Page 8 of Shadows and Roses

This seemed to perturb the clerk. He blinked a few times, scowled again, then flapped a hand in a shooing motion. "On your way. I'd suggest getting started on lessons, but what do I know?" he grumbled.

"Lessons?" Like a damned school child? This week was going to be tedious.

"You'll be grateful for them, boy. Maybe you'll learn to keep that fool mouth shut before it gets you killed."

"The Night Courts won't stand for that." An instinctive response that he wasn’t so certain applied anymore. Still, he could voluntarily serve his House after the contract was over, and he knew they would welcome him. If he survived a year.

"And you won't last a day with that nonsense. Here's your first lesson. Observe. Pretend you have nothing protecting you. Now, go away. I'm not here to listen to idiot fresh courtesans."

The small man shoved his papers into a stack and took them all over to the youth’s desk.

Guards and servants pointed him toward the courtesan's wing. He knew he was in the right area when the palace's cool air gained a hint of floral notes. Gilded statues of dainty women and muscular men hugged stone walls. Dried petals littered the edges of the floor. Carved into two large wooden doors were giant wildflowers, one on each side. As he drew closer, the large flowers revealed themselves to be composed of people invarious suggestive, naked poses.

There was no mistaking this hall for another. But in case anyone managed to stumble here unknowingly, a young woman in a thin white gossamer dress slid off a cushioned bench to greet him. Her bright blue eyes flicked from his wrists to his face with a smile.

"You look too delicious not to be one of us. When'd you join the palace?" She sounded refreshingly innocent and curious.

Castien examined her hands. No claws, as usual with his female colleagues. Despite what he’d said to the clerk, few noblewomen served for long in the Houses. He inclined his head politely. "You are correct, my lady. My contract began today."

"Contract?" Her eyes widened, and she took a second, longer look at him. "You must be— Oh! The guards have been talking about you. Word gets around fast and they loved the look of you. I can see why."

"They examined me quite carefully, yes. Castien of the House of Shadows." He extended his hand.

"Oh my, the court's going to devour you.Iwant to give you a spin and trust me—very little interests me anymore." Biting her lip, she blinked and shook her head. "Mm-mn. Bad idea. Sorry, I'm Jesamin. I've been here for a few moons."

When she tentatively touched his hand, he curled her fingers in and bent at the waist, smiling into her eyes as his lips brushed against her soft skin. "A pleasure, Jesamin."

"Oh! I— thank— mm." She blushed, retrieved her hand, and clasped both arms behind her back, then rushed into the hall.

Amused at her flustered silence, Castien followed. She paused at an open doorway. "Marlow should be the one to show you around, but I don’t think he’s here right now."

"I met a Marlow in the dining halls. A noble called me ‘one of his’. Who is he?"

"Master of Courtesans. He’s a bit strange, but he takes care of us." She hesitated. "I’ll give you the tour, then."

He hoped he hadn’t unsettled her too much. A palace courtesan ought to be more thick-skinned, though she seemed young. Still, a few moons were plenty of time to grow accustomed to a bit of flirtation, considering their profession. Perhaps the nobles liked her innocence.

There was a healer's room close to the entrance where a lone woman in blue robes dispensed contraceptives and strong calming drugs. The medicines appeared to be the same mix of herbs used by the Night Courts. When the healer began to explain their use, Castien interrupted with a rapid-fire list of the common drugs, their recommended doses, side effects and ways to counter them, and overdose remedies—lessons from his childhood. The woman looked him over and shrugged.

As they moved into the common room, soft groans accompanied wet gurgles, and the occasional, distant, sharp crack preceded a muffled shriek. The first such scream made him frown but his guide didn't react.

His gaze swept the large, curved room. "Are there no guards here?"

She laughed. "Sometimes. They're usually nicer than the nobles."

"I meant—never mind." Not having a guard felt like not wearing armor to battle, or so he imagined. His back itched.

Cushioned benches lined the walls. A large, round bed piled with pillows occupied the middle of the room. The few lone courtesans appeared to be part of the furniture—lounging, napping, idly ignoring everything around them. One couple was making use of the benches. Or rather, a noble leashing a male courtesan was thrusting hard into his mouth. A few more thrustsand the noble pushed his partner onto the rug. At the man’s pained grunt, Castien frowned and looked away.

Jesamin took the opposite direction around the couple. Whimpers faded behind them as they turned into one of the several side halls. These were the bedrooms. Most were well-decorated but with few personal effects. Apparently, anything the nobles wanted, they could take. Perhaps it was good he’d been rushed out and hadn’t had time for the details of his appearance—the adornments and gifts from clients he favored.

"Several are empty," she said, gesturing at a few rooms at the end of the hall. "Marlow will probably assign you one of them. They’re all the same— oh, um…"

Castien glided past her into a room, rubbing the bedsheets, running a finger along the nightstand—dusty, unfortunately—and testing the pillow. The room itself was the size of his closet. He was meant to sleep here? Sighing, he spoke over his shoulder, "Are these the only available rooms? Is this where the Night Court guests usually stay?"

She hesitated again. "I… I don’t know. You’d have to ask Marlow."

Hmph. "Continue."

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