Page 12 of The Shadow of Breninsol
Milk gave them a tight smile. “That’s the thing. Apparently, they had plans. She had money saved to pay off her debt, but when they searched her room, they didn’t find any coins, nothing.”
“I bet my comb that the girls of that place found her stash if she had one,” Iris said wryly, passing Eleanor the teapot that’d seen better days.
She tried not to inhale the cloying aniseed odour, as she carefully poured slightly to the left to avoid the chipped spout while firmly holding onto the lid, to avoid the chip that was on its rim. At one point in the porcelain pot’s life, it must have had some sort of floral decoration on it and its size would have happily served a tea party. Now, it served a pleasure house their contraceptive tea.
Some of the women shifted uncomfortably at Iris’s statement, but it didn’t make it any truer. Some pretended to be close friends, but Eleanor saw through their act. They were all giggly smiles as it suited them, but as soon as you had something they needed to escape this life, they’d gladly take it, not caring who they stepped on in the process. Eleanor didn’t begrudge them this. It was part of life, and she was familiar with the way people treated one another. The world they lived in was filthy, and none understood this better than those who lived in the dirt.
“Just to be on the safe side, ladies—and this includes you, Julia—you better all stay in at night,” Milk advised, giving Julia a warning look as she washed dishes in the sink.
Sensing the further unease in the room, Cookie lowered his voice to a deep and gloomy tone. “Lest the Witch Queen’s shadow-beast fly down in the dead of night, and WHOOSH!” He wrapped his arms around Calla, next to him, tickling her to make her squeal against the unexpected onslaught. “And drag you back to the Witch Queen.”
Chapter Five
Golden Soil
The courtesans entered the party palace through the same golden double doors they’d used the previous night. They walked the lifeless marble and gold corridors, led by the same slimy man, whose bothersome nasal cough Eleanor wished he wouldn’t make. The king’s man looked the same as before, wearing his uniform of a drab flax jerkin fitted over long white sleeves, with the king’s golden crest stitched onto his breast. Small black marks still tinged his skin, except tonight his nose looked more flushed than she’d ever seen.
The glaring whiteness of the party palace did nothing to ease the tension that had become a consistent ache in Eleanor’s temples. Despite her attempts to drink a vat of the watery tepid coffee that was available at The Ladies Grace, it had done more to sour her mood than improve it.
She hadn’t been able to sleep last night. She’d seen her fellow ladies at The Ladies Grace setting up their rooms and getting themselves washed and dressed, ready for their evening clients. Eleanor, in a thin dress she’d salvaged, left the pleasure house to speak with some women at the Moonlight House. She’d hoped to find a few women between clients, or perhaps a bored courtesan. But she’d ended up talking to the young serving girls who’d given up a name—Linnet—while they’d crammed biscuits into their mouths. No one had kept any of Linnet’s belongings to look through, the prostitutes having already divided everything, including her biscuits. The serving girls had not told her much else, only what little they knew of Linnet’s sweetheart. After that snippet of information, Eleanor realised she needed to return to The Ladies Grace before the clients arrived. As she’d left, the young serving girls were already bickering over who would keep the gaudy silver biscuit tin.
Eleanor had spent the evening busying herself with helping some of her fellow ladies with their hair, in case anything came from Madam Grace’s warning speech. She didn’t fancy testing the madam. As usual, she’d taken a bottle of wine to bed, not that it’d helped. Unable to find sleep, she’d still laid there on that thin mattress.
As the king’s beady-eyed man gave that irritating little cough, Eleanor struggled to hold back her glare. She was tempted to touch wood, if she could find any, hoping his cough was a sign of some malignant ailment. He signalled to the manservants to open the gold inlaid doors, leading the courtesans into the room that awaited them that evening.
Ornate gilding skirted along the lines of the room, framing the alabaster walls and ceiling. The golden flow ran along the walls to accentuate the room’s features: doors, window frames, sconces, and mirrors. The floor featured a black-and-white tile pattern, which was covered with soft rugs, of such a light blue that they were nearly white, with clusters of satin-covered chairs and stools resting upon them.
Once all the courtesans crowded into the spacious room, the doors closed with a snap, leaving them with the nobles, who were giving them suggestive smiles. Perhaps she imagined it, yet they appeared friendlier than before.
The Petals murmured“tits up”as they passed her to make their way around the party.
Eleanor’s eyes ran around the room, noticing the clusters of nobles, richly dressed in the latest fashions. The key features of the room caught her eye, a grand nacreous marble fireplace dominating an entire wall and a swirling, gilded mirror covering what remained of the white wall, reflecting the hefty crystal chandelier. The matching mirror on the opposite wall gave the illusion of an endless row of sparkling chandeliers, as if they ran on into infinity.
Eleanor sought the reason behind the gathering, but it seemed like a party for the sake of a party. A spike of fear ran through her;was the king here tonight?He wasn’t present the first night, she was sure of it. However, this washispalace, and they were having a party in his palace. It would make sense that he’d be in attendance. Taking a breath to stop any further spiralling of her thoughts, she repeated her strategy as her fingertips brushed against the thin strap on her thigh which held her Attarician blade.
Remain bland and uninteresting. Don’t attract attention.
A few nervous-looking younger courtesans joined the small group of nobles who had been blatantly staring at them sincetheir arrival. However, Eleanor was drawn to the open door near the fireplace, where the rest of the courtesan’s had disappeared and melodic music flowed through.
Eleanor’s stormy coloured dress billowed in a pleasing swish around her legs as she gladly helped herself to the sparkling wine that was being circulated by the impassive servants in drab beige and white uniforms, similar to the king’s man. Satisfied that she smelled the bitter and sweet blend of almonds and berries from her wine, Eleanor wandered into the next room, following in the wake of the other courtesans. It was similar to the room she’d just come from, with servants, carrying golden trays filled with sparkling wine, manoeuvring through the groups of nobles. Eleanor noticed some courtesans had stopped in this room and were already hard at work, smiling coyly, giggling, or brushing up against a lord or two.
Although Eleanor couldn’t see them, she could still hear the faint melody from the unseen musicians. As she glimpsed courtesans disappearing through another ornate golden doorway, she realised the party spanned multiple interconnected rooms. Had Eleanor not noticed the nobles’ colourful, sparkling outfits, she might have mistaken it as tantamount to the shining endless chandelier in the first room. All the rooms had matching milky white walls and swirling gold wrapped around the rooms and their features, and while the rooms were similar, the nobles were not.
She sipped the bubbly drink as she took in the party goers. Perhaps, she imagined it, but the smiles were wider, and the giggling was louder, almost mistaken for laughter. Many appeared drunk, a sign that the aristos must start drinking at their midday meal, or they’d not stopped since the previous evening, a practice she could support.
A flash caught Eleanor’s eye as she entered another room, drawing her gaze towards a group of courtiers huddled together,their laughter echoing over an unseen joke. Eleanor thought it might have been the light catching a glass, but as she scrutinised those cheerful courtiers, she saw what had caught her eye as it glinted in the light when they tossed their heads back. They had something dusted over their faces. It resembled gold, reflecting light in a shining glimmer around their mouths that might be mistaken for lip colour. It struck Eleanor as odd, as to her knowledge, men in the king’s court didn’t wear makeup.
Perhaps they were trying to emulate the king, to get noticed by wearing his colour. However, that made no sense, the king wasn’t even around to see their homage. Then, an unpleasant feeling twisted in her stomach. Maybe he was here, after all? The thought alone made her want to retreat to the first room. Yet, a stronger, more pressing feeling urged her onwards, pushing aside any apprehension she had.
Eleanor downed the rest of the sweet sparkling wine as she moved into the next room, helping herself to a fresh glass of wine from the nearest server. This room’s party surpassed the last in terms of its boisterousness, it was filled with giddy nobles stumbling into each other.
As she delved deeper into the interconnected rooms, the rollicking nobles were getting wilder and wilder. What had started out as nobles tittering and sipping from their glasses had mutated to pouring wine from the bottles into eager waiting mouths. They resembled something more like a human fountain than the kingdom’s most affluent and influential.
Eleanor had a feeling that this party really was comparable to the chandelier from the first room; a party within a party. She wondered whether the Petals, or any other courtesans she knew, had joined the courtiers. Eleanor hadn’t noticed with whom they’d stopped with, she couldn’t focus on anything but the nobles’ divergent behaviour, a stark contrast to her first night at the party palace.
Some women looked like they were Favours in their revealing gowns paired with jewels. Sitting on their lord’s laps, the Favours moved suggestively, and the odd little noises they emitted confirmed the lords were cock deep in them. The nobles’ conduct wasn’t the only uncontrolled factor. The air encircling them had changed into something she couldn’t define.
Eleanor entered a room where the golden trays of sparkling wine were interspersed with something that evidently wasn’t drinkable. Small piles of earth lay on platters, but its colour was amiss, like the gold that lingered on some of the courtier’s mouths. The golden substance was being threaded through the room on the gilded serving trays, like the wine, but its consumption remained ambiguous: food, wine accompaniment, or standalone ingestion? Not that she’d want to try the golden soil. The strangeness was unsettling, not in a good way, but in a way that was just…different. As if the golden soil was alarming, like encountering a man in a darkened alley at night. Due to the small amount of magic she possessed, Eleanor was prevented from reaching out to investigate the golden soil, as past experiences had taught her that doing so was too risky. The consequences would extend beyond simply sating her curiosity. Explaining the sudden appearance of age-old marks covering her body to the women of The Ladies Grace would only be the beginning of her problems. It would result in her being revealed as a witch.
