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Kael’s face pales in a heartbeat. “Me?” he questions, looking genuinely surprised, and despite the circumstances, I can’t stop the smile that creeps onto my face.

“Yes, you. What? You don’t think men need to earn a living, too? You may be a king in Zerynthia, but here, you’re a man with a body others would pay for,” Amarisse asserts with a sneer. She clicks her fingers, and the young man’s head breaks through the velvet curtain again. “Take off your robe and give it to this gentleman. He’s working, startingnow.” Her voice is demanding, and the young man removes the robe without question, passing it through the curtains.

“Fifty heartbeats,” Rubi counts, urging us on.

“Put it on,” Amarisse snaps, throwing the robe of black silk at Kael’s chest.

He looks at her, confused, and she grunts in displeasure. “Take off your clothes and put it on,Your Highness,” she snarks, and Kael does as she bids, tossing his armor and weapons, save for a small dagger, into the underground basement.

She spins to me.

“And you—take out your braids. Remove your leathers. Leave your undergarments. You’re his customer, understand?” she spits the words at me in haste, and my cheeks blaze under her instruction. But I do it, kicking off my boots and leathers, and listening to them thud against the earthy floor of the basement.

Stars save me—I’m the newest customer in The Tainted fucking Veil.

“Thirty heartbeats,” Rubi pants, swirling the ink-black liquid, Shards having dissolved into the boiling water.

Amarisse removes the silk robe that wraps around her shoulders and trails the floor.

She tousles my hair, pulling the loose strands forward over my shoulders, creating a pleasure-addled look. She spritzes me with her perfume, the plume of it choking and obnoxious, but a better alternative to blood and sweat.

“Ten heartbeats,” Rubi says, sweat appearing on her brow.

The door to The Tainted Veil shudders under the urgent fist of the guards bellowing to be let in.

“Drink deep and find a spare alcove,” she instructs. “Be convincing, Your Majesties. All our lives depend on it,” she commands, raising her eyebrows in intensity.

She’s right. If we can’t convince the guards we’re meant to be here, we’ll be Thalmyr’s prisoners, and Aevryn will be lost to us.

“And me?” Ronyn asks again.

“There’s a game of poker on upstairs—find it and join it. Make it look like you’ve been there a while,” Amarisse says. “Now, I have some guards to stall.”

“Drink!” Rubi urges, pressing the boiling tea cup into my hands, and pouring it down Therion’s throat despite his dwindling lucidity.

I drink deep, sucking down the steeped Shards and almost choking on the acrid tang. I force it down.

“Down!” Amarisse demands, urging Therion, Seren, Jax, and Rubi down the stairs. They disappear into the cavern of darkness, and she swings the heavy table down, sealing the staircase and latching the table into place. She clicks her fingers and the male courtesan reappears. She points to the dice and tankards, and he immediately drops to his knees to gather them back onto the table.

“Put on a good show,” Amarisse winks, and her remaining silks float on the breeze as she disappears through the velvet curtains and back into the main parlor.

Fuck.

Kael’s hand finds mine, wrapping around it protectively and fiercely.

“Follow my lead, Duskae,” he breathes, his voice all sin and seduction.

He tugs me through the curtain, storming through the flicker of candlelight and the haze of smoke to the partitioned alcoves that offer the illusion of discretion, but do nothing to dull the pleasured moans of happy customers.

I pull the crimson silk across my chest instinctively to hide my Lightborne mark, but it’s gone. The Shards are cloaking it.

Even so, I pull the robe tight around myself.Hiding myself.But the slits cut high on my thighs, revealing skin and curves to any eye that looks up.

But I’m here for pleasure.Or at least, that’s what I need them to think.

So, I stand a little taller, swaying my hips with the confidence of a woman who isn’t afraid to pay for her pleasure.

We push further down the row of alcoves.