Page 3 of Her Dark Reflection

I needed to get a hold of myself. I was not the sort to fawn over a stranger, and I usually found the whole untrustworthy aesthetic a deterrent. There were girls on the premises who seemed to be drawn to thieves, mercenaries, and binders like iron filings to magnets, but I wasn’t one of them.

Flicking his fingers at his companion, he said, ‘That sorry lump over there is Lester,’ before pulling an arm from the back of the chair to grasp at my hand, freezing my strumming. His fingers were long, cool, calloused, and my entire body seized up at the contact, my lips parting slightly. ‘And I’m Draven.’

‘I’m booked,’ I spluttered, yanking my hand back and stumbling away from the table. When I was out of arm’s reach, I paused and tried to collect myself, to smooth over how rude the reflex to escape him must have seemed. The last thing I needed was a complaint against me. Madam would be waiting to chastise me over the scene with the binder as it was. I didn’t need to lose her any more money. ‘I’m sorry, I’m very busy. I’ll send someone else over.’

‘Busy insulting patrons?’ Lester asked, surprising me. I’d forgotten he was there. ‘We saw your little show down by the stage.’

I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘In case you didn’t notice, the scumbag had me by the hair. He deserved a lot worse.’

‘He did,’ Draven said, shooting a look at Lester that made him slump back in his chair and scowl into his tankard. ‘You handled the situation well.’

‘Thank you.’

‘It won’t be the last you see of him, though.’ There was a confidence in this comment, like he was stating an absolute fact. ‘Where did you learn to break out of a hold like that?’

Chewing my lip, I considered him. I wasn’t sure what his aim was, why he was talking to me, asking me these sorts of questions. Did he have a kink for violent women? It wasn’t unheard of, though if he wanted to be tied up and spanked there were other girls in the room far more experienced in games of dominance. ‘It’s a good idea to be prepared for anything in this business,’ I replied.

A hand brushed my arm, causing me to jolt with surprise. I hadn’t even noticed Aalin approaching me. ‘Madam wants to see you,’ she whispered, and I sighed. My grace period seemed to be up.

‘I have to go. Perhaps I’ll see you again,’ I said, my words stilted and awkward, my body tense at the idea of turning my back on him when the instinct to keep him in my sights rang through me as clear as a bell.

His mouth twitched with a smirk. ‘You will.’

Madam Luzel watched me cross the room and jerked her head towards her office. Not a good sign, but I held my head high as I followed her.

Her office was furnished with all the luxury that her considerable wealth afforded her, but I always felt the sting of resentment whenever I entered. She was not a generous woman by any measure, though her terms of employment were admittedly fair, which was more than could be said for other suvoir in the city. She paid a base rate, let us keep our tips and, most importantly, never forced us to take clients to bed, though she did keep forty percent of our earnings when we did. And that forty percent was all I saw when I admired the heavy oak desk, the supple leather of her armchairs, the gleaming crystal decanter and glassware perched on a sideboard by the window. I could afford to be picky with who I took to one of the upstairs rooms now, but I hadn’t always had that luxury. It would never feel right that she took a cut of the nights I endured at the hands of violent or repugnant men.

She sat in the chair behind the desk, steepled her fingers, and pursed her pale lips at me. In her heyday, Madam Luzel had been a great beauty and the memory lingered in her high cheek bones, long-legged figure, and penetrating blue eyes. ‘Tell me you weren’t insulting another of my patrons just now.’

‘What makes you think I was?’

She tapped her fingers against each other. ‘You weren’t playing or dancing or serving drinks. You certainly didn’t look like you were flirting. And since you’ve already provoked violence tonight, it fits your particular pattern.’

I clenched my fists by my sides. ‘You were the one who asked me to look out for the new girl.’

‘I asked you to show her the ropes, not to become her white knight. She needs to learn to manage those situations herself, and hopefully in a less antagonistic manner than you do.’ She considered me for a long moment while I bit my tongue against the desire to justify myself. I knew she wouldn’t care. ‘I’m having this conversation with you too often, Rhiandra. Perhaps you need to take some time off to reflect on whether you wish to continue working here. You may be popular, but no amount of popularity can make up for chasing away paying customers.’

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was right—I was letting my temper get the best of me too frequently these days. I needed to show her I could be as calm and restrained as she was, because working at the Winking Nymph was all I had, and I’d pinned every plan for my future on it. I didn’t want to be a maisera forever. What I wanted even more than putting a few brutes in their place was to have enough money and influence to do as I pleased. And Madam Luzel was the most direct path I could see to that goal. After all, she wouldn’t live forever, and madams often selected their successors from amongst their girls. She herself had inherited the suvoir in the same manner.

‘You’re right. I’m sorry. Maybe I just need to rest for a few days.’

She relaxed as I said this, her frown softening into not quite a smile, but at least a slightly friendlier expression. ‘You do that. I don’t want to lose you.’ She didn’t need to addbutI will if I have to. I already knew I was a commodity to her. She had plucked me from the streets when I was a scrawny teenager and let me work washing glasses and wiping tables while tutoring me in the arts of entertaining, flirting, and fucking, shaping me into one of her perfect temptresses. But she was a businesswoman, and I had long since paid out my indenture. Our history meant nothing if I turned out to be a sour investment.

‘I don’t need you on the floor tonight. You can go,’ she said as she began shuffling papers around her desk.

I wanted to protest, to ask for another chance as I envisioned the tips I would miss out on, but I bit back my words. My dignity was worth more than a few tips. I withdrew from her office and headed straight for the bar, pouring myself my second helping of gin for the night. Another notch against me, but I needed to rinse the bitter taste out of my mouth.

‘I’m heading up early,’ I said to Nataya as I washed out my glass and replaced it on the shelf.

‘Do you have a booking?’ she asked, waggling her eyebrows at me. I smiled and gave a half nod. Better for her to think I was up with a client than that I was being sent to bed early like a naughty child. She shimmied her shoulders, her eyes bright with excitement. ‘Let me know if he’s as gorgeous with his clothes off.’

I frowned at her in confusion before I realized she was talking about the man in black.Draven. ‘Yes. Sure,’ I mumbled, waving goodbye and taking the stairs behind the bar that led to the rooms above.

Theairwaswarm,the coals still glowing in the fireplace, when I reached my room. I threw a log in the grate and stoked the flames back to life before shoving a few discarded gowns from a chair to sit at my dressing table. A jumble of pots and bottles littered the surface of the table. One bottle had even keeled over and was oozing onto a knot of jewellery I had given up on untangling, but I paid the mess no attention as I pulled pins from my thick, dark hair, watching the firelight glinting from the ornate gold frame of the mirror above the table.

I had watched my mother do the exact same thing countless times as a girl, watched her slowly brush out her curls, gazing at herself in this same mirror. My dream-dipped, impractical mother who had sat idly waiting for the man who’d fathered me to swoop in and rescue her from poverty. Her mirror didn’t fit here. It was a relic of her life before me, of a world I had been shut out of by virtue of being born. Huge, oval-shaped, with a plethora of flowers and twirling vines carved into its golden frame, it was clearly an object someone like me couldn’t afford. It stood out amongst the debris of my more common possessions, not only because of its quality, but also because an enchantment that repelled grime made it the most brilliant thing in the room.

Having finished with my hair, I surveyed the mess with flared nostrils. It was ridiculous that the only people who could afford the enchantments spun by druthi, Brimordia’s sanctioned magic weavers, tended to be the people who had a troop of servants who cleaned their manors for them anyway. I was the one who needed everything in my room charmed to stay clean. As it was, I stole the nips of enchantment for the mirror from Madam Luzel when it wore off, which was every few months. It was a stupid risk, but I couldn’t quite bear to let the mirror fall to grime and tarnish like everything else I owned.

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