Page 1 of Her Dark Reflection

TheWinkingNymphwasalways flooded with patrons after the Burnings.

The atmosphere wasn’t the same as it was on a busy night at a regular tavern; the dim lighting encouraged the shadows closer instead of banishing them, leaving pockets of space where patrons could lurk without being recognized. People came to drink, either alone or in groups, but for the most part they didn’t sing bawdy songs or tell dirty jokes. Perhaps the place was debauched enough on its own so they didn’t feel the need.

Women drifted in and out of the shadows, flirting with the light as it caught on their spangled wrists and ankles and throats, and at the front of the room a beautiful redheaded girl sang with a voice as sweet as sun-warmed strawberries. It was going to be a big tipping night. The city was beginning to bulge with visitors attending the treaty celebrations, and the moon cycle holiday had beckoned them all to the streets, thrilled by the morning’s violence and drunk on bloodlust.

I was eager to get out on the floor, but Madam had saddled me with initiation duties, so I was instead lingering in a corner by the bar, doing breathing exercises with the novice.

Aalin’s perfume was thick, a ghastly confection of jasmine, violets, and something sugary that made my head ache. I could pick out a new girl a mile away; they wore thick makeup obscuring their faces, chains and sparkles everywhere one could hang a jewel, and gowns in gaudy colours that revealed more than they concealed. They thought they were channelling desirability, but in reality, all that decoration was a screen to hide their nerves.

I was long past those sorts of naïve assumptions. I’d worked at the Winking Nymph long enough to know that calculated vulnerability earns more than donning the generic armour ofmaisera. Aalin wasn’t ready to hear that, though. That night, she needed to feel like she belonged, and all that perfume was a part of the uniform.

‘They’re just men,’ I soothed as she chewed on her lip and smoothed her dress over and over again. ‘And they’re mostly drunk men. They want to be pleased. And they’ll be excited to see a new girl.’ I tucked a lock of wiry hair back into her updo.

‘I don’t think I know how to be sexy,’ she admitted in a small voice. ‘I thought I did, but now that I’m standing here…’

I ducked behind the bar and collected a bottle and two glasses. Pouring a generous helping of clear liquid into each glass, I pressed one into her hands. ‘Here,’ I said. ‘This will help.’ I knocked back my own serve, wincing as the gin scorched its way down my throat. Madam Luzel didn’t like us drinking on the clock, but one drink to fortify against first time jitters was surely justifiable.

Aalin brought hers to her lips, and I gently pushed the bottom of the glass, forcing her to take a mouthful instead of a sip. I grinned as she coughed and spluttered. With her wide, dark eyes, smooth skin, and perky tits, she looked impossibly young. I hoped she wasn’t as young as she looked, though. Madam wasn’t exactly thorough when she checked things like the age of her new hires; she was an expert in plausible deniability. If the king’s soldiers decided to raid her, they’d never pin her doing anything she shouldn’t be. Though, with one of the king’s generals currently lounging in a private booth and drinking on the house, I doubted it was a decision they’d be making anytime soon.

‘See him over there? With the bushy beard?’ I leaned closer to Aalin and pointed out a bear of a man seated by the stage. She nodded, taking another sip from her glass. ‘He’s a regular. He’s friendly and he tips big. Go and ask him if he’d like you to pour his drinks for him. He’ll look after you.’

‘But what if he…’ She trailed off and her gaze shot down to the floor.

‘If he?’ I pressed. When she seemed unable to continue, I finished the sentence for her. ‘If he wants more than just his drinks poured?’

She nodded at the floor.

‘If anyone expresses an interest in booking you privately, you have two options. Either direct them to Madam Luzel or deflect.’

She looked back up at me with wide eyes. ‘Deflect?’

‘Playfully. In a not now, but maybe one day sort of way. This is a suvoir, not a flesh house. They know you can turn them down.’

She took a deep breath. ‘Okay,’ she said, swigging the last of her drink. ‘I can do this.’

I watched as she edged over to the man I’d pointed out, her posture slightly stooped, like she was trying to make herself less visible. When she was greeted with a broad grin, I knew she’d be alright. As I picked up my lute and took to the floor myself, I felt not even a whisper of nerves. A part of me envied Aalin’s anxiety; envied the adrenaline that would come with it. I had been just as nervous on my first night working the floor, if not more so. At some point, the job had become routine, had lost its thrill of doing something wicked, something that would shock my prudish mother. It still paid better than I could earn doing almost anything else in Lee Helse, though. No more shivering through the winter for me; I kept the fire in my room burning as long and hot as I liked.

I began circling the room, immediately checking in with Lord Bernier, the governor of a minor estate north of the city. Balding and wrinkled, with his body bulging out of clothes that seemed to shrink tighter around him by the day, he was a regular, and I flashed him a coy smile as I picked up the bottle on his table and refilled his glass.

‘Will tonight be the night?’ he rasped. ‘Will you let me take you away with me?’

‘How you tease me, my lord, with your pretty promises. My poor little heart can’t take it.’ My tone was light, but I danced out of reach of a hopeful hand.

‘I could arrange everything. A set of rooms on Peak Street. An allowance. All the fine clothes you could dream of.’ His droopy eyes blinked up at me hopelessly, his offer spoken with all the weight of air.

‘All the fine clothes I could dream of would bankrupt the king himself. Now, hush with your temptation or Madam will throw you out for trying to steal away her staff.’ I blew him a kiss and moved on, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. He had a wife and five daughters to support on the income of a handful of tenants and a small, unproductive landholding. He couldn’t afford to rent rooms anywhere, let alone Peak Street—evidenced by last year’s jacket he’d had altered to fit this season’s fashions. But he liked the fantasy of being a big man about town, and we all did our best to simper and fawn over him. I had never accepted him as a private client, though he’d requested me from Madam often enough. I was beyond the days of trysting with men who repulsed me.

I moved about the room, peddling songs and refilling tankards, taking the measure of anyone I didn’t recognize. A table of three drew my attention the way an act of violence does, the way the mind recognizes and catalogues a threat. I’d never seen them before and I assessed them quickly: all three were broad and muscled, with bulging shoulders and thick necks. One caught my notice for his dirty blond ponytail, a length not common amongst men in Lee Helse, and I watched as he stared at Aalin across the room, his mouth curled with greed. One of his companions had a silvery scar running from the outer tip of his eyebrow all the way to the corner of his mouth. The third man seemed younger than the other two, with razor nicks marring the stubble on his chin. The trio looked deep in their cups, aggression rolling off them like heat. Unease prickled down my neck as the youngest reached for his drink and I caught sight of a length of black cord wrapping his forearm.Binders. Men who made a living catching and selling fall spawn, which was a profession as dangerous as it was lucrative. They tended to be sinewy, brash sorts, with tempers as short as their lifespans. And if they were hot off the back of a sale, they’d have money to burn on liquor.

I kept a wary eye on them as I continued my rounds, even when I was called away to serve a private booth full of cloth merchants conducting a deal. A few rounds of drinking games later, I caught the moment the blond stood to intercept Aalin on her way to the bar. I was already on my way over before he’d laid a hand on her. I made eye contact with Cotus, one of the brawny men waiting on the fringes of the room, ready to keep order and manhandle patrons when necessary. He nodded in acknowledgement, letting me know he was watching.

Aalin smiled shyly at the hulking man in her path and ducked past him, but he snaked an arm around her waist from behind, pulling her against him. She cried out in alarm at the unexpected contact.

‘Do you need someone to break you in, gorgeous?’

She protested timidly and struggled to free herself, but stilled as he said something in her ear. The girl’s eyes grew round as coins and the blood drained from her face.

‘Hands off her. You don’t touch unless invited,’ I barked as I reached them, my voice containing enough force and venom to momentarily shock him into slackening his grip, allowing Aalin to break free. His eyes met mine.

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