The bird finally took flight, but not until I’d unrolled the small note that read, Midnight, same room, in a heavy and almost illegible cursive.
The note slowly crunched in my closing fist. I tossed it onto the kitchen countertop before opening the bag of cherry tomatoes and the cheese I’d purchased upon leaving the market. While eating, I contemplated what might happen at this next meeting.
I drained a glass of water and set it down with a trembling hand.
He was a king.
And it was therefore outrageous of me to lose myself to thoughts of his mouth devouring my own, and the way he’d felt so perfectly larger than life beneath me.
It would be equally as outrageous yet also wise to take his gold and never return—to continue seeking a way to sneak into Folkyn now that I had some means to do so. After all, there was a good chance Hal might have been lying about the sum of coin needed to persuade the right people.
His warning flattened that plan before it could grow wings. He hadn’t been lying, and even if he had, it would still cost more than I could afford.
And if I did not return to the Lair of Lust when sent for, what might Madam Morin do? She would undoubtedly be furious at my snubbing of any client, but a client such as he?
Whether I liked it or not, Crustle was where I must remain for the foreseeable future. So I popped another tomato into my mouth and drew a bath.
The squeak of the faucet and the water crashing against the porcelain tub echoed throughout the hauntingly empty apartment.
I’d spent my entire life feeling lonely. Now, I was truly alone.
Alone and unsure how to remain afloat while already sinking in these punishing and cage-resembling middle lands. To make an enemy out of anyone, especially a king, could cost me my life. Gane was the only one who might notice if I disappeared, and by the time he did, it could very well be too late.
I sank into the warming water and gazed at the coral tiles through a film of honeysuckle-scented bubbles, knowing none of this was new. I’d just made sure to never acknowledge it too closely before, my heart and mind always glued to a future I could not see.
For although I refused to admit it, I knew a future outside of Crustle was as good as nonexistent. If I wished to ensure my survival, it was best I make peace with that—and with my loneliness.
If this was it, then maybe there was no need to seek different employment. Maybe, with clients like the blue-eyed king, I could work for Madam Morin long enough to buy a small farm beyond the marshes surrounding the mayhem of town.
Dark-blue eyes blazed behind my closed eyelids, and I gasped as I rose from the water.
Excitement unfurled and exploded in my chest, shaming me.
I wanted to see my unexpected client again.
The king wanted me. For reasons I had yet to understand, being that he’d even said he preferred his lovers more experienced. If anyone could grant me all I’d dreamed of, everything that now seemed so irrevocably out of reach, it was a king of one of the ruling houses of Folkyn.
Impossible. He would certainly punish me.
But perhaps he wouldn’t.
Perhaps with enough patience and careful prodding, he could be convinced to help me, I thought, as the memory of his warm mouth and his warmer warning returned with frosted fire.
I’m going to do such filthy, dishonorable things to you.
I stopped my hand from sliding down my body and closed my thighs. Only because he might scent what I’d done, regardless of bathing. I groaned with a myriad of frustrations as I sank into the water again before washing and preparing to leave.
I wasn’t willing to wait and see if I would have an escort this time.
Arriving at the Lair of Lust a half hour before midnight, I made good use of my earliness by searching for a gown.
After trying on three that were either too tight or too large, I settled on a lemon number that fell to the floor in a single sheet of satin-backed lace. It resembled a night gown for someone with the coin to spare on the indulgence, but I couldn’t deny how much I liked the way it molded to my curves.
Gentle but fitting, it cupped my breasts, hips, and upper thighs before falling to touch my toes.
In the dressing room, I attempted to do as Madam Morin had said last time and wear my hair up. But the pins wouldn’t hold the wild and thick waves. Instead, I braided and pinned a few pieces behind my ears.
A woman entered as I contemplated doing something with my face, her own and her upper body flushed. Adjusting her tasseled dress, she froze at the sight of me and flicked strands of bronze hair from her cheek. “You must be Rolina’s replacement.”
I nodded and set the powder puff down. I had no idea how much to use anyway. “Hello.”
“Pretty,” she said, a little curl to her lip as she inspected me. “Rolina always dealt with the rogues. Dennis is a biter, so be sure to watch those lovely tits.”
I coughed to hide my shock. I had no intention of meeting other clients. At least, I hoped I would not have to. I didn’t bother saying so, though. “I’m afraid I’ve yet to meet him.”
“Count yourself lucky, then,” she muttered, closing the stall door to the tiny bathing room in the far corner.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, the subtle paling of my cheeks, and decided to forgo putting anything on my face. Being that the woman hadn’t so much as offered her name, I didn’t doubt she wanted privacy. And I had no business hoping for something as elusive as a comrade, let alone a friend.
The door to the dressing room had barely closed behind me when Madam Morin appeared atop the stairs to the third floor. “Oh, merciful Mother. You’re actually half decent this eve.” She strode briskly down the hall. “Though I must say, a little color on those lips wouldn’t hurt.”
“I’m not well-acquainted with the art of such things.”
Knocking a ringlet from her cheek, Morin slowed and raised a brow. I was quickly studied from head to toe. “Get friendly with it, Flea. This one seems content, to be sure, but future clients might want a little more...” She pursed her crimson lips. “Flavor.”
I frowned, but before I could find anything to say to that, she snapped her fingers. “Well, what are you waiting for?” She gestured to the stairs. “Move, darling. He’s already here.”
“Already?” It couldn’t have been midnight yet, surely.
“You speak as though it’s a bad thing.” Laughing low, Morin scooted behind me to enter the dressing room. “Keep him eager, and you’ll keep his coin. But do hurry on now.”
The door closed, and I was left wondering if perhaps it was not such a bad thing indeed—to have a male as powerful as he so keen to see me.
Yet on the second floor, my confidence began to melt. I paused with my hand over the door handle.
His scent permeated. His presence a silent hum upon the air.
Belatedly realizing that if I could sense him through the wood, then he could sense me, I opened the door. As I quickly locked it behind me, I said without thinking, “You could have told me you were a king before we...” Remembering myself, I shut my mouth.
I winced, then turned and curtsied.
King Florian raised a brow. He was already lounging upon the divan, an ankle over his knee. “Before we what?”
Unable to conjure the right words, especially with those eyes traveling from my heating cheeks to my chest to my covered legs, I blurted as I straightened, “Before we fornicated.”