Chapter 7
I
t was weird to miss your 'own' bed. It was probably stranger, when Glys thought about it, that by missing her bed she'd been reminded that the riches she'd helped generate belonged to someone else. She had been given a large bed with springs because it was her Mistress's desire that she had it. Not because it was comfortable, or because it's what she would've chosen given the opportunity.
Certainly not because it was fun to jump on.
There was peace and quiet in the estate; good food, plush chairs and beds with god damned springs in them.
In the Hung Buzzard there were no spring beds, the food and drink were stale, and people coming and going at all hours played across her senses. Even when she was letting her body rest, she could pick out their souls moving around the building. One emotion or a million at once. All breathing. Drunk with exhaustion, ale or lust.
Never ceasing.
But she was adapting, she promised herself.
She'd taken time to make this little room hers and it could remain so contingent on her ability to pay the rent. But how much of that was true? She hadn't made the stains in the woodwork or the bedding, she'd only cleaned them up.
The weapons she'd mounted on the walls were hers, the dioramas too, but how much else could she claim? What part of this place said 'I am here'?
Glysless ruffled against her body and dug her talons into her shoulders so her wings hung like a mantle. She stared into the mirror until she got her Glamour right. Maybe if the Mistress had a heart attack she'd take over the estate and claim her room as hers once more- take back what she'd helped earn. Some time far off in the future, she could look back and answer that existential question of her place in life with 'I was here'.
For now, though, there was a brothel keeper to meet.
Originally she had been going to go with the duelist persona- she'd even laid out the tight fitting trousers and half-skirt thing with the poufy sleeves. She'd spent a couple hours working out the ins and outs of why someone of her 'caliber' was slumming it at one of the Kosori family's brothels. There were twists and turns, and it was all very exciting.
Right up to the point where Glysless realized she'd need that persona for another phase of her plans, and if the duelist was caught hanging around the place she'd be implicated in the inevitable chaos around Kosori's holdings. Which meant she'd never be able to use the persona, and 'her' years of freelance dueling would be at an end. Starting over would take months, and the payments offered to people without a stamped Black Book were pitiful.
No, freelance dueling brought in too much money to just throw away.
So the alternative was the simple farm girl looking for work in the city, on her last few coins she comes to the brothel as a conquest in the making. The proverbial vestal virgin, a flower ripe for plucking! Until the secrets started coming out and Sibsor realized this girl knew a hell of a lot more about his workings than even he did.
Glys forced a smile to her reflection. This was destined to be exciting in its own way.
*
She'd been wrong before.
Not often, and usually not to this degree. No, it took the Fates themselves getting involved and having a good laugh at her silly little ambitions for things to go this lopsided. It was like they'd decided that on this day, in this place, Glysless was going to be fucked with.
The warning flags had started popping up when Glys rounded the corner and didn't immediately notice the laughter of children playing around the Satin Peach's building. The place, while simple, had a broad porch that could've been its own deck in many other places. This usually meant kids would be jumping- or throwing each other- off of it. The open windows were usually filled with women smoking or calling to passers by, or maybe the baying of infants.
It wasn't just quiet, though. The shops on either side were still closed, though when she passed there were shadows of movement inside. A quick glance with her full senses showed people scurrying about. Chasing something?
Weird.
There were no souls in the brothel- not a single one. Her reach only went so far, but usually it was enough to pick up traces- there was just
nothing
but the faintest echo of something having gone horrifically wrong. Like a whisper of a scream floating on the wind. Kosori had many enemies in crime circles, but this didn't look like a faction battle. It was too clean.
The Fates truly were having a laugh.
Glys walked a circuit around the building to make sure no one was around. The story was pretty much the same front and back. Someone or something had gotten in there and driven everyone away, leaving this vague sense of panic in its wake. Whatever had happened, she was late to the party.
