Liana kept her face as neutral as possible. She wanted a chance to get close to Amron without drawing attention to herself, not an audition for the most expensive brothel in the city. But refusing now would get her kicked out immediately, and anyway, it wasn’t like she planned to stay here after tonight. She might as well play along.
“Oh, wonderful,” the woman said when Liana let her chemise slip down to the tiles. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
“And you work in the palace as a maid?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“And it never occurred to you to use your looks to get a betterjob?”
“I never thought I’d be any good at it.” It was the truth. She’d done a fair share of hard, physically demanding jobs in her life, but none were as difficult as being groped by some horny animal reeking of sour wine and sweat.
“I can teach you to be good at it, it’s a skill. What’s your name?”
“Liana.”
“Liana, have you ever been with a man?”
“Yes.” She tried to remember how her nineteen-year-old self had felt about men. Tired of their relentless advances, wary of their possessiveness, bemused by their fumbling. That didn’t stop her looking for the one that’d suit her, though. She’d always known that if she waded deep enough into the muck, she’d find the pearl. Now it was time for more muck, and she was old enough to handle it. She wanted the job. “I know how to make them happy, my lady. If that’s what you want me to do.”
“Hm.” The lady lifted one eyebrow. “You’re a rough diamond indeed, but that face of yours.…I wish I had the time to teach you, but there’ll be a crowd of restless young men here tonight, thirsting for a novelty. All you have to do is smile and be pliable. Can you do that?”
“Yes.” Liana shot the lady her sweetest smile.
“Mera will give you something to wear and introduce you to the girls. I don’t expect you to perform tonight, you don’t have to sing or dance or even talk, just hover in the background and look pretty. If you catch someone’s eye, I’ll handle it. Do you understand?”
Liana nodded, and thus she was promoted from a maid to one of Lady Celandina’s girls.
She had seen a fair share of brothels in her life—they were ubiquitous with both the army and the nobility. And she’d seen the whole palette of women who sold their bodies, from the most desperate camp-followers and half-starved waifs—selling aquick upright for two coppers—to pampered courtesans, singers, and actresses who could choose between the men who threw themselves at their feet. She knew she’d been lucky, in those early years of her life, to have had a grandfather who protected her, surrounded her with a close-knit group of people. If Lord Echton’s hunters hadn’t taken her as one of their own, she might have easily ended up in one of the inns along the northern road, sold like chattel, too young to set herself free.
Lady Celandina’s girls didn’t look like anybody sold them. When she joined them, dressed in a flowing, gauzy teal gown, her hair pulled away from her face and secured with pearl hairpins, she drew a few curious looks and quick nods, nothing else. She was pretty, yes, but so were they, as well as polished and businesslike.
“This is Liana,” Mera introduced her. “She’ll be joining you tonight.”
A dozen cold, disinterested smiles.
“Show us what you can do,” a blonde holding a harp said when Mera left. “What makes you special? Can you sing? Dance?”
“I can keep my mouth shut,” Liana said.
Chapter 8
Melia
Once Ferisa switchedher priestly clothes for a pretty wine-red gown, she became just another woman rushing through the busy palace. Melia didn’t go so far as to introduce her to the queen—she had a disturbing feeling that Queen Orsiana saw people more clearly than she let it show. There was no need to risk a closer look or a deceptively gentle interrogation in the garden.
Apart from that, every corner of the palace was open to them. Their act required no special effort, they’d been playing this lady-and-her-companion game for years, and if it had passed the surly scrutiny of Roderi of Elmar, it was certainly good enough for the courtiers distracted with the royal wedding.
Prior to Ferisa’s arrival, Melia had been afraid of the palace and avoided wandering through it alone. With Ferisa by her side, she felt giddy exploring the great hall as it was being made ready for the feast tomorrow, the busy kitchens and stables, the offices on the first floor where the overworked clerks and scribes went about their business trying to ignore the chaos, and the second floor, where the royal family and all the guests who didn’t have accommodation in Abia now resided.
To a girl who grew up in Syr, where the only noise was produced by the wind howling through empty passages, this turmoil was overwhelming and scary. However, a strange surge of pride filled Melia while showing the magnificent floral tapestries in the long gallery, the marble sculptures and exotic flowers in the gardens and hidden terraces, the hand-carvedfurniture, the mirrors, the map room with maps of every corner of the world, the curious mechanisms and plants and animal specimens collected by the queen’s late father, the library with thousands of books and rare manuscripts. Showing it all to Ferisa was like seeing it for the first time, through the eyes of the girl who grew up surrounded by dust, rough-hewn wood, and threadbare carpets. It was a world neither of them was familiar with, but which now belonged to Melia.
She feared Ferisa would be bitter about it, dismissive of the opulence, resentful of the plunder on display. But instead, her companion watched in wide-eyed silence and nodded when Melia explained.
When they grew exhausted, Melia led Ferisa to her small room. “You can stay here if you like. I mostly sleep in the other room.”
“The other room?” Ferisa lifted an eyebrow, but the question was teasing rather than hostile. Melia had done her best to make Ferisa know she was just as important to her as she’d always been. There was no reason for her to be surly or jealous.
