She scoffs at the wordrelationsbut nods.
“What is done with the children who are taken from their mothers?”
“Madame Rose sells them,” she says, and her fury is written on her face. I’m sure it’s reflected on mine as well, because my gloves are growing dangerously hot. “Rumors mention experiments.”
A chasm of grief threatens to open up beneath me, pulling me under as the slice of a scalpel flashes through my mind. I channel my pain into rage, let my fire burn it away until I can breathe again. I curl my fingers into fists. “So, Madame Rose is complicit in everything that happens here?”
“Yes.”
There goes my final doubt that Mr. Duveau could be the sole offender in this operation. Madame Rose must not be spared from my wrath. I lean forward. “If there were to be an emergency here, what would happen?”
She lifts a brow. “An emergency?”
My lips curl into a smile. “A fire, let’s say.”
“Chaos, I suppose. Everyone would fight to flee out the front door, and hardly a man would be wearing pants.”
“Is there a back door?”
“Yes, outside the kitchens, but it opens into an alley. Not the best escape in the event of a fire.”
“I see.” I ponder this for a moment. “When would be the worst time for such a tragic emergency to occur here? Meaning, when might it be the most difficult to escape?”
Mikaela’s green skin goes a shade paler. “Is this really what gets you going?”
“Just answer the question honestly.”
She pulls her arms tighter around her. “I would have to say around three in the morning. The last patron has left by then and everyone is asleep.”
“Does Madame Rose retire by then as well?”
She nods.
“How much time would you need to ensure your fellow courtesans knew to escape through the back door during a fire?”
Her body goes still as stone. “Why are you asking me this?”
I rise to my feet and take a step closer to her, summoning every ounce of regal air I can find. To be honest, it isn’t much. I haven’t been Queen of Fire for more than a week. At least I know how to fake it. I repeat my question, slower, firmer. “How much time would you need?”
Her answer comes out in a whisper. “A few hours, I suppose. I would circulate word during our nightly bathing hour.”
“Good. See that it’s done. Discreetly.” I retrieve my hat from the floor and begin pinning my hair back up under it. I can feel her eyes on me, her expression dumbstruck. “I must confess I cannot pay you. When are you required to pay your mistress her dues?”
“You mean give her everything?” Her voice is heavy with venom. “At the end of each Sunday.”
“Good. Since that’s the case, may I borrow some coin from you? If I must remain in town until three in the morning, I should probably have dinner.”
She eyes my gown. “Youneed money? Fromme?”
“I don’t have any of my own.”
“You don’t understand. Madame Rose requires I give her every last coin—”
I round on her, leaning in close. “No,youdon’t understand. You won’t be here by Sunday to pay her. Nor will this building be left standing by morning.”
Her mouth falls open. “Who are you really?”
“I told you who I am,” I say flatly. “Now do what I’ve asked of you. Speak to your fellow courtesans. A fire will occur at three in the morning. Anyone who wishes to escape must flee to the alley in secret by then and meet me there. Must I make it clear Madame Rose is not to be privy to this information?”
