Page 30 of The Shadow of Breninsol
The girl’s shoulders slumped with the weight of disapproval from a mother-figure. Iris was so effective that Eleanor had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from hanging her own head.
They followed Julia into Lauressa’s room, which hadn’t changed much from when she’d been in the room to braid her hair. Despite being broken and chipped, the gilded mirror still held its pride of place on the crooked table, propped against the wall.
“—tits up. At least you have a few days of lounging in bed,” Lucy said from her kneeling position on the floor with a bowl of water next to her. A few rags lined the bowl’s edge. Laying in the single bed tucked under the covers was Lauressa. She was sniffling and looked sorry for herself with a large shawl draped over her.
Iris muttered a curse as Eleanor looked at Lauressa’s face. It wasn’t that bad, not really. Lauressa had a superficial injury that would heal perfectly fine. A cracked lip, and a mix of blues and purples surrounded her right eye, along with an inflamed cheek.Madam Grace was the owner of the crimson handprint, while the bruised eye was more likely from whichever Bella she’d had the altercation with.
Eleanor moved Lucy over to better inspect Lauressa’s face. She turned the sniffling woman’s face and gently prodded, noting where Lauressa was feeling the most amount of soreness.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Iris asked.
Eleanor ignored her and saw Lauressa’s red-rimmed eyes and the tear-tracked cheeks. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” Eleanor said calmly, but Lauressa made a sad little noise. “It feels awful now, but the swelling will go down and then you’ll be back to normal in no time.”
Lauressa made a sniffle noise and mumbled, “Really?”
“Really, but crying will make it worse. It’ll agitate your eye more.”
“It hurts,” Lauressa made another sad little noise.
“And it’ll get worse before it gets better.” Eleanor said, putting her fingers in the bowl of water, feeling that it was slightly heated water. “Lia, fetch the coldest water you can run and a clean towel.”
Julia nodded and rushed from the room, glad to be out from Iris’s glare and for something useful to do.
“Told you breaking that mirror gave you ill fate,” Lucy muttered.
“And I told you: I didn’t break it. I found it like that,” Lauressa stubbornly defended.
“What were you fighting over?” Iris interjected.
Lauressa let out a deep sigh. “There’s a new client, and we both wanted him. He sounded fancy, like a posh merchant or something.”
Normally, Eleanor would have scoffed at the idea of two women fighting over a man, but she recognised it as their business. A new client meant an additional income, which inturn meant that they’d be closer to paying off their debts. Their popularity meant securing themselves as being one of the favourites of the pleasure house, which meant they might be more likely to be chosen next court season to be a courtesan.
Those were the financial reasons. The purely personal reasons for wanting a new client meant that it became interesting for them working out the quirks of a client; what they wanted, or didn’t want. Most often, clients were unsure of their desires until they experienced it, and it was up to them to uncover this for their client. This resulted in the client having access to a one-of-a-kind experience at The Ladies Grace, along with the potential for gifts. If this client was as wealthy as he seemed, he could bring presents that they could potentially hide from Madam Grace. It was rare that they’d keep these gifts from their clients, but it happened from time to time. That deceitful woman couldn’t be everywhere simultaneously.
“The old bat caught us, and we got in trouble,” Lauressa finished.
“I’m gathering you’re not working now?” Iris asked, her eyes catching on Lauressa’s bruised eye.
“She’s pulled us until we look better.”
“She can’t have you working, looking like this,” Lucy exclaimed, waving a hand at Lauressa’s swollen and colourful face. “You look like you went hand-to-hand with a blacksmith.”
“I’ll be lucky if my regulars stay with me because of this,” Lauressa bemoaned.
None of them could say anything to negate that. For some of them, if they missed just one regular appointment, then the client would sooner find someone else and that could risk the client preferring whichever woman replaced them.
Eleanor patted her hand, trying to give her some sympathy, as she rose to retrieve the roll of canvas that was tucked into the corner of her bed. When she arrived back at Lauressa’sroom, Julia had already brought the bowl of cold water. Eleanor unrolled her small bundle to reveal a meagre collection of flowers and herbs, which would look like a sad collection of weeds to an unknowledgeable eye. It wasn’t much, but whenever Eleanor noticed a stray stem growing stubbornly in Breninsol she’d add it to this sad collection of herbs and flowers. Discreetly plucking a herb here and there had saved her a few visits to the small apothecary. Which had saved her money for more alcohol. She barely trusted the others to not call the city guard on her. Since Eleanor had been taught the Old Ways by the Wise Witch, a way to not rely on magic, this ancient knowledge had proved to be a valuable asset throughout Eleanor’s long life. However, it didn’t stop a raw rubbing at that age-old wound like those on her body. Since witches were defeated in the Witch Wars, it had resulted in all women being treated so poorly. They always had to pay the hefty healer’s sum for anything health related, they couldn’t even learn how to heal the most basic of ailments such as a headache or stomach cramps, lest they be accused of being a witch from jealous idiots who didn’t understand something as simple and basic as herbs and flowers. As the calming older voice reminded her,we’ve forgotten what it’s like to be connected with all things, ourselves included.
Eleanor picked the last two stems of the bright orange calendula and knew she’d have to go find more soon, as it was a very useful flower.
“Didn’t take you for a healer,” Iris said.
…and this is why we don’t get involved.
Eleanor disliked Iris’s suspicious tone and the scrutinising look, so she maintained an indifferent tone and casually shrugged, downplaying the importance of her actions. “I’m not. Just picked up some things here and there.”
Eleanor twisted the sticky flower heads together and used the knuckles of her other hand to crush the heads in herpalm, letting the musky smell waft in the air and sprinkled the marigold petals into the water.
