“Long enough.”
She doesn’t look at me when she speaks. Her eyes stay fixed on the women below; some cleaning, some mending torn dresses, some just sitting, staring at the floor. The room feels different today, as if everyone can sense something moving outside the walls.
“I don’t know much yet,” I say. “But it’s bad. I saw it myself this morning. A woman accused another just for arguing. The guards didn’t even hesitate.”
De exhales through her nose, eyes narrowing. “Of course they didn’t. Men love any excuse to punish women.”
Before I can answer?—
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The front doors rattle under heavy fists. The sound freezes the room.
“City guard! Open up!”
The doors fly open before anyone can move and a constable shoulders his way inside, followed by half a dozen guards. The girls below scream and scatter.
A short man in a dark blue coat steps forward, hat still on his head. His voice is small but sharp as he looks up at us from the room below. “Good afternoon, Madame De-Vil.”
De’s posture stiffens. “Constable Richard,” she says evenly. “You know I pay my dues.”
“Yes, yes,” he says, dismissive. “You’re up to date, but that’s not why we’re here.” He looks around the room like he owns it. “There’s danger in the city, you know. Corruption.Witchcraft.”
The word drips from his mouth like rot.
De crosses her arms. “And what does that have to do with me?”
“I’m here to arrest one of your women—Sirena—for witchcraft and the use of black magic to seduce and defraud the men of this city.”
For a moment, no one speaks. Then a voice from the floor—one of the girls—pipes up. “It’s not magic,Dick. It’s just tits.”
Laughter ripples through the silence, and even I smile.
The constable’s face flushes crimson. “Silence!” He lifts his hand as if to strike her, and my smile quickly dies on my lips as I decide then and there, he’s a dead man.
He drops his hand, composes himself. “Bring her to me, Madame. Now.”
De sighs, but says nothing. She knows she has to follow orders or this place will get shut down so quickly and all the girls will be on the streets.
She turns on her heel and walks down the corridor behind us. I slide the coin purse and jewellery into the pocket of her dress as she passes and whisper, “For the girls. Get them out if you can.”
She nods once, barely.
The constable stares at me and I stare right back, unmoving, as his pulse jumps in his throat. He looks away first, seemingly afraid of me. Good.
De returns with Sirena—trembling, crying softly, her dark hair loose over her bare shoulders. Her beauty is the kind that makes men stupid. That’s her crime.
As beautiful as she is, she doesn’t hold a candle to you.
His voice coils through me, deep and low, and my skin burns from the inside out. I want to see Him, Ineedto.
The guards seize Sirena roughly, dragging her down the stairs. She’s speaking in a language none of them understand, and that’s enough to damn her.
The doors slam and Sirena’s sobs fade into the street.
For a long moment, no one moves. The room feels empty without her crying in it. Then the anger comes—sharp, electric, unstoppable.
Different. That’s all it takes. Be different, and they’ll call you damned.
