ã€ŠAlice&#x27;s Shadowã€‹


 0. Alices Shadow

    The winds of twilight covered the royal capital of Candere in a chemical mist. Under the wine-red skies and amidst thin, dirty streets, poorly lit by gaslight, lived the men of the new century. Barely distinguishable from rats, they engaged in all sorts of debauchery and cutthroating. It was said that in every corner of the Windfall District you could find a place to either fight, fuck or both.

    There, in a godforsaken district, out of the limelight and hidden by urban decadence, holy men marched.

    Their heavy steps echoed. Not a living soul could be seen in their path. No one was idiotic enough to show up in front of the Holy Seer¡¯s dogs. Windows shut, doors locked. It was a silent night in the Windies.

    In the hazy night, the men might¡¯ve looked like apparitions. They wore the white and gold of Temperance over black studded leather. They had hooded gray cloaks, pulled all the way, and a tied cloth over their mouths, trying to get some protection from the fumes.

    Three soldiers reached the outskirts, almost at the city¡¯s walls. A strong stench made them hold their breaths. The one in the front, the only wearing a red armband, gestured to a downwards slope going along the wall. At the end of it, three more men waited for them, guarding the entrance to a sewer gallery. Two were soldiers also, expressions hidden by the darkness. The other one was dressed in a green cloak and stood below all of them. He spat on the ground.

    ¡ª Took your time, Gendrich. ¡ª the little, bald man said. ¡ª The greenies here didn¡¯t even consider going a single step after that¡­ thing.

    ¡ª I see you have some reason in your heads. ¡ª Gendrich said, analyzing the faces of the trembling pair of rookies. ¡ª Cowards or not, they did well. A couple of boys barely old enough to handle a spear would stand no chance against the witch.

    ¡ª I¡¯m telling you, Gendrich. The bitch could barely walk. I would go after her myself if it wasn¡¯t for¡­

    ¡ª What, Lamprey? ¡ª Gendrich frowned at him. ¡ª You¡¯ve done your job, now keep quiet. It''s not over yet.

    The captain looked at the men around him and sighed. The Church¡¯s Fist had seen better days.

    ¡ª Listen up. We have men at every entrance or exit of these galleries. If the bitch comes out into the fucking river, there will be men on boats, ready to spear her down.

    ¡ª We¡¯re going down in pairs.

    He could see that the men looked at each other, confused, although they would never question Gendrich¡¯s logic. There were only 5 guards. The scout evaded eye contact.

    ¡ª That means you¡¯re coming too, Lamprey.

    Gendrich pulled a short saber from his belt and threw it at the short man. He barely managed to not get cut by the sharp blade.

    ¡ª And I¡¯ll be your pair.

    Lamprey¡¯s expression went even darker and he spat on the ground.

    ¡ª Organize yourselves. We¡¯ll enter in five minutes. Bare feet. No light of any sort. I doubt anyone tried teaching you how not to be a brutish airhead announcing your arrival at every step, but do try, else, you¡¯ll die.

    ¡ª This is no common danger. Be prepared and do not hesitate to kill. Remember, it¡¯s always you or them. If we want justice. If we want the streets of our city cleansed of rats, we, deliverers of punishment, must remain alive for the next day. And the next day. And all of our days until we perish. Evil has no place under the light of the Church.

    The men raised their fists. Gendrich could see some confidence on their faces. The speech worked the same way it did with him the first time he heard it. The Church¡¯s Fist. The holy shield protecting the folk from the darkness. If they failed, everything was lost. He¡¯d laugh, if he was not alone.

    The five minutes went by in a flash. Gendrich sat on a rock covered in moss to ready his flintlock pistol. His men, after settling with their pairs, either prayed or stood still with a straight look in their eyes. Those were the moments when you had to find means of staying alive. If your mind was loose, unfocused and scared, you¡¯d die. Faith and homicidal lust were the two best ways to get your mind under control, Gendrich had observed after many years of service.

    His own method was choosing to not let it all matter. He did not matter. None of these men mattered. Their cause did not matter and neither did any of the lives their mission affected. Day after day, he¡¯d serve, protect, be on the verge of dying and see other men meeting their final fate. Every time, it could be him, and there was no way of foreseeing it or avoiding it. The best fighter he had ever met died from a glass bottle thrown at his head. So you may fight like no other man has ever seen, and in the end of it, you¡¯re still a man. They stood no chance against the true evils of the world. If they won for a day, it would be back for the next one.

    Why fight at all, then? Gendrich had no answer to give to himself. The silver paid for booze and whores, though.

    ¡ª It is time. ¡ª The captain got up.

    ¡ª Harren and Oliver, you two stay here. Guns and spears always pointed at the entrance, got it? Any signal of something that¡¯s not us, kill it.

    The pair nodded.

    ¡ª Waler and Caroth, you¡¯ll get in with me and Lamprey. If the paths split, we¡¯ll split too. ¡ª Gendrich raised his pistol. ¡ª This is our communication. Heard a shot? Go back running to the entrance. I¡¯ll do the same. If we try going after each other inside the tunnel, there¡¯s a chance that the thing came out on top and she¡¯ll end up mowing us all down.

    ¡ª If I end up being the one to fire the pistol and¡­ don¡¯t come back, don¡¯t go after me. Stay here and send someone to look for reinforcements. I won¡¯t go after you either.

    ¡ª Hmpf¡­ I guess we¡¯d better survive. ¡ª Lamprey said.

    The four men went forward into darkness. Immediately, the pungent smell became even stronger. There was a dissonance between how the dark waters looked and how they felt on their naked feet. Each step sulked into moss and either smashed something or tripped on it. They were silent, but Gendrich wished for his boots, even if they¡¯d end up sogged anyway. Slowly, the light coming from the rounded entrance became a distant beacon. Their path took them far, to a point that the world around them seemed disconnected from the city outside, a realm apart. There were no walls, no ceiling, no floor. Only shadow, who kept them alive as long as it was suitable for it.

    At one point, the group reached a wall. The gallery split itself diagonally into two different tunnels. Both were protected by thick iron grids. However, the right one was destroyed, providing passage.

    ¡ª It looks like an animal mauled this. ¡ª Waler picked up a broken bar from the ground. The ends of it, where it was separated from the grid, did not have a regular cut. Instead, they looked like they were torn apart in a very violent fashion.

    ¡ª Heh, that¡¯s what we¡¯re dealing with. ¡ª Lamprey said.

    The two rookies widened their eyes.

    ¡ª Isn¡¯t she just a woman? ¡ª Caroth asked.

    Lamprey laughed, and received a slap on the back of his head.

    ¡ª Silence. ¡ª Gendrich said.

    ¡ª Ugh¡­ She probably already heard us mingling here. ¡ª Lamprey said. ¡ª Listen, boy. There¡¯s lots of stuff in this world that you don¡¯t know about and, trust me, you wish to stay oblivious. This is not just some woman. It''s a witch. And not just some fat old hag that runs around the woods making teas so that the village elder can get his cock working again. I¡¯m sorry they didn¡¯t tell you before, but that¡¯s what we¡¯re dealing with.

    ¡ª That¡¯s enough, Lamprey. ¡ª Gendrich said. ¡ª We have a job to do. No more talking.

    Gendrich approached the intact iron grid.

    ¡ª Look.

    Gendrich gripped an iron bar and, with ease, pulled it away from the rest of the grid. The ends appeared similar to the ones on the bar Caroth picked up.

    ¡ª It¡¯s almost entirely taken by rust. Doesn¡¯t need much effort to tear down one of these. Help me here, you two.

    The three soldiers started ripping the rusty bars apart. Without much work, they managed to create a gap wide enough for them to pass.

    ¡ª We¡¯ll separate now. Lamprey and I will follow the most obvious track. You two go through the path we just opened. These galleries can get complex, so there¡¯s a chance that going through here will get you closer to her than us. Good luck.

    Alongside the scout, the captain turned his back to the green soldiers and followed the path of destruction left by the witch. He had failed to mention that there were no signs of rust in the grid that was already broken. Lamprey stood in silent complicity.

    As the tunnel diverged from the main axis, light was gone almost to the point of pitch blackness. The noises from outside ceased, too. All they could hear was the low sound of dense, dirty water running and the mingling of rats, coming from every direction. And wind. A cold breeze, carrying a miasma of death and rot. Gendrich shivered.

    ¡ª I¡¯ve had my share of adventures down the sewer tunnels, you know. ¡ª Lamprey whispered. ¡ª There seems to be something different about this one. Feels like a cold hand is gripping my bones.

    ¡ª There¡¯s something in the darkness. ¡ª Gendrich answered. ¡ª Now that we go deeper and deeper, there¡¯s no more light to keep us safe. At each step we take, it gets thicker. Heavier. I can almost feel its desire for me.

    ¡ª No need for silence anymore? ¡ª Lamprey asked.

    Gendrich shook his head.

    ¡ª No. It doesn¡¯t matter anymore.

    They moved forward. Looking behind, their escape was a dim light, growing more distant by the second. Lamprey doubted they could take a run without tripping and getting engulfed by the heavy sewage. The captain did not think about it. The moment he stepped beyond the broken iron grid, he knew that their possible positive outcomes were quickly dwindling down. He had a tense grip on his pistol, and the other hand constantly reached for his retractable spear, just making sure it was still there.

    Another sound started to compose the background. It was a water stream too, although lighter and seemingly from a crossing direction.

    ¡ª There¡¯s something ahead. Can you feel it? ¡ª Lamprey asked.

    Gendrich didn¡¯t have the same awareness of the thief turned scout, a man very used to crawling around in pits and passages. The lack of use of his vision, however, made him more sensitive, and he understood what Lamprey had said. The air started to feel different, less uniform than in the straight tunnel. Even though there was no light, somehow, he saw. The darkness stopped being this ethereal force and it became like a curtain, opaque, but could be put aside.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    The tunnel ended and a new gallery crossed their path. It was wide and had a strong current running through its center, with a stone floor at each side.

    ¡ª This is going straight to the river. ¡ª Lamprey said. ¡ª Wonder if she just let herself go and hoped to wash away somewhere safe? Maybe the soldiers posted at the end of it already catched the bitch.

    ¡ª We must be sure. ¡ª Gendrich said. ¡ª Can we walk through it?

    ¡ª Yeah, it barely reaches over my knee. Should be easy for you.

    The man raised their pants a bit more and went head into the sewage. The water was lighter, but the current was definitely stronger. If they lost balance, it could take them away very quickly. They dragged their legs through the stream, a movement that echoed for a long while as the gallery was not only wide, but tall.

    There was another tunnel right across their entrance point. It was their beacon during the tough crossing they faced. They were so focused on it, however, that they did not notice the shadows coming alive.

    The curtain of darkness became heavier. And heavier. The image of the tunnel entrance was only a projection in their minds, as the world had turned into a void. They tried to rip through the curtains, layer after layer, but it proved impossible. They were in the grasp of darkness, imprisoned in a realm that was no longer their own. Their feet did not stop. There was no more rumbling of rats, no more distant sounds of water and dirt. Their senses seemed to merge into a single stream; whatever they saw, whatever they touched or heared, could only be described as dark.

    There was no noise, only a glimmer. They turned their heads to see the image of a girl. Red hair as if her head were in flames and covered only by sewage. She looked at them without expression, eyes gazing like the dead did. It was a frail image, and that made the minds of the men freeze. It took them a while to identify the menace, and by then, it was too late.

    Lamprey jumped sideways and went out of vision immediately.

    The flintlock fired. The void was taken over by the blaze¡¯s light. And for its brief duration, the girl¡¯s image was no more. The spherical bullet voyaged through where she should have been, making an explosion sound as it cracked the wind.

    Once again, as the moment passed, the darkness reigned absolute and the girl¡¯s image returned to its place, untouched. The shadow played tricks.

    No way he could reload the gun fast enough, Gendrich thought right before dropping the weapon in the water below. His other hand pulled the retractable spear from his belt and, while gesturing to lengthen the spear¡¯s shaft, Lamprey jumped from out of vision, sword in hand.

    Before Gendrich could warn him about the illusion, he was already too close to landing his blow. To the captain¡¯s surprise, the image reacted. The girl turned sideways, raising her hands as if they could parry their blow. Her expression remained unfazed. Although her movement was nowhere near fast enough to match Lamprey¡¯s, the shadows were. Claws grasped the wrists of the little man, stopping the blade from penetrating the girl¡¯s flesh. He flinched and fought against the living darkness, only to end up dropping his weapon. From afar, Gendrich noticed that it was only a distraction.

    ¡ª You bitch!

    As he loudly struggled, Lamprey positioned his legs to get strength enough to deliver a kick. Between his toes, a small blade was being held.

    The movement was swift.

    Before the kick even reached its halfway point, another claw surged in a wild, ripping movement. It hit both Lamprey¡¯s legs, right above the knees. The man screamed, flailed. Hot blood ejected from him. On the water, there were now two pieces of meat and bone, which emitted no sound upon hitting the liquid surface.

    Gendrich could wait no longer. With one step and the spear¡¯s shaft fully extended, the distance was enough. He went for a full pierce while the girl watched Lamprey¡¯s life extinguishing and the claws held his body. Her body was no illusion anymore. He felt the blade ripping through her skin, as soft as anyone else¡¯s. It tore a hole in the flesh.

    He got a reaction out of her, finally.

    She writhed in pain and released a piercing scream. For a moment, the wail took Gendrich out of the battle. It was no demon screaming, just a girl. The moment did not last long, however. The reaction gave him more time, and he¡¯d better use it well. With the two hands in a strong grip, he moved the spear inside her. It had hit right below her chest, so the movement felt a bit restricted by the ribcage. Still, the iron tip went deeper and blood started spilling.

    The shadow reacted. Somehow, it seemed to panic. The two claws fought against Gendrich¡¯s strength and tried to outright pull the spear out of the girl. The soldier resisted, but it was no use. He focused on maintaining his position, sinking his feet as deep as he could in the mossy floor. The claws forced his spear out of the wound, but he kept an aggressive position.

    The girl looked at him. Her expression had gone from pain into wrath. Gendrich smiled. He would stand against the creature. They looked at each other firmly for what seemed a long time, but it was barely under one second. It was about who could act faster.

    Gendrich¡¯s spear moved forward, ripping apart the curtain.

    -

    By the time it reached the entrance, the sound appeared to be of a pebble hitting a still lake.

    Harren and Oliver almost jumped at the spot. As low as the sound was, it still broke the silence. They could only hope that it meant their victory.

    ¡ª Could that be the gunshot? ¡ª Harren asked, trying to hide the trembling in his voice.

    ¡ª We¡¯ll find out if someone, or something, comes back. ¡ª Oliver answered.

    After the initial echo, the quietness took over once more. The soldiers¡¯ breath was heavy and irregular. Oliver almost wished he went with the others, at least he¡¯d be spared from the anxiousness.

    Roughly ten minutes passed before anything could be heard again. It was a splash. Another. And another. Someone walked towards them. They pointed the spears forward, their hands were sore from holding them for so long with such strength.

    ¡ª Who is it? ¡ª Harren shouted as the sound approached without a visual.

    The steps were louder and louder. The light outside was too weak to lighten the path all the way to the end. Or maybe the darkness was stronger. The sound was almost at the entrance when they saw him. His hood was lowered, showing a good head of gray hair. A mask of blood covered his face. His cloak was in a sorrowful state, ripped apart and tainted by sewage and even more blood. His burden, however, was the truly awful view.

    Over his shoulder, Captain Gendrich carried Lamprey¡¯s corpse, seemingly untouched, until you searched for his legs. On the other side, Gendrich held a firm grip of a long, fiery hair, as dirty with blood and dejects as his cloak. He dragged the corpse of a woman, naked and unidentifiable. She had a deep wound right below the chest, open like a crater. But the worst part was her face ¡ª there wasn¡¯t one anymore. In its place, only a deep hole of shattered bone and ripped skin, filled with dark blood. It dripped.

    The men dropped their weapons and held the captain as he fell to his knees. His leather chestpiece was in shambles, marked by claws and wet in blood.

    ¡ª Captain! What about the others?! ¡ª Harren asked.

    ¡ª Do not bother him, idiot! We must take care of his wounds. ¡ª Oliver said ¡ª There, on your side. Grab his horn, we can use it to call reinforcements.

    Harren reached for the horn, only to be intercepted by the captain¡¯s hand.

    ¡ª Do not bother¡­ ¡ª the captain said, in a faltering voice, unrecognizable. ¡ª We¡¯ve done it. Let¡¯s take the corpses.

    He got up, dropping the bodies and forcing the soldiers to catch them. Harren saw what remained of Lamprey¡¯s legs and needed to hold what was in his stomach. Oliver, with disgust, held the girl¡¯s arm while leaving the rest of her body dragging on the dirt.

    ¡ª Sir¡­ The others. Will they know? ¡ª Harren asked.

    ¡ª They¡¯re dead. ¡ª the captain answered, without skipping a beat.

    Gendrich did not look in any direction other than forward. His walk was trembling and weak, but never reached the point of failure. Following him was a trail of blood and water from the sewers, ingrained in his feet like a pair of socks.

    ¡ª Captain! Shouldn¡¯t we do something about your wounds? Or maybe we could wait for help here. ¡ª Oliver protested.

    There was no response. The captain kept moving forward at his broken pace.

    Harren and Oliver exchanged looks.

    ¡ª Blow it. The others should be warned somehow. ¡ª Oliver said, pointing to the horn.

    And so Harren did. Awkwardly, at first, as he did not know the correct technique nor did he have a strong enough lung. The horn¡¯s weak call sounded like a faint whimper and it vanished alongside the soldier¡¯s breath. The rookies had to pick up the slack after noticing the captain disappearing into a dark alley, unfettered by their acts. Harren tried again, walking and balancing Lamprey¡¯s dead body at the same time, to equal or worse results.

    Although the captain had a head start, he soon faltered behind, after a couple of wrong turns and stumbles on the irregular stone streets. The two rookies sweated ahead, leading the way towards the closest barracks, which they assumed was the rendezvous point with the other groups. The alleys of Windfall could be almost labyrinthic. It was a settlement grown without much planning, where houses and buildings fought for space and moved towards wherever the builders felt like. The paths snaked around between constructions of simple stone and masonry, went up and down and constantly split and merged back again. Few were the main streets where a carriage could pass through. Going through the Windies was an on foot affair. Harren and Oliver moved with confidence, even though they weren¡¯t if they followed the correct way. The captain did not complain and kept following them, silent.

    Gendrich observed the two men. He did not care about their path. At first, they worried about him, who was leaving a trail of blood and could barely muster the strength to walk. Slowly, though, they grew used to his pace and stopped worrying about matching speeds. Gendrich carefully reduced the frequency of his own steps and let the rookies take the lead, too distracted about being lost in the city¡¯s dangerous outskirts to notice his behavior. Lamprey stumps had dried out. Most of his blood had probably left while they were still in the sewers. The girl¡¯s corpse was a mess, covered by the city¡¯s filth and even more distorted by being dragged around. The captain seemed to focus on her. He just needed a bit more time.

    They were nearing a lively neighborhood. A hum that could be heard in the background slowly turned into music, coming from many directions. The sky was lightened up. The men turned right, avoiding the path to the main street and reaching a small passage between the backs of two large wooden warehouses. There were no men working in them at that time, but the smell of the furnaces persisted.

    ¡ª Forward. ¡ª Gendrich stuttered. He had seen the doubt on the rookies¡¯ steps, which turned slow as they faced the unknown area. Their attention could not be broken. Eventually, they reached a thin set of stone steps, and from atop it they could see the river arm that cut through the city. The rookies were sure the barracks faced it, and traced a path towards the nearby bridge, barely visible beyond the fumes.

    They were dangerously close to the rats¡¯ nest. It was time.

    Now that they had a clear destination in mind, the pair of rookies paid even less attention to Gendrich. They had sped up, with refreshed will, leaving the captain behind, as he wished to be. His hand went to his chest and an excruciating pain took over him like water crushing a dam. He could not lose the image of the girl. Not when he was so close.

    The path swerved left, right after an alley. Gendrich held his step, and his underlings were no longer in his view. Blood went up his throat and an urge to cough took over. He used his mouth to muffle the sound of the crimson liquid being vomited out of his innards. He hoped luck was on his side. A distant red light, from the end of the alley, illuminated the path. It could take him to a main street, where it was easy to disappear. If he just gathered enough strength.

    He stumbled into the passage, supporting himself on some barrels. He could hear the rats scrambling from his arrival. The girl was there, disfigured. He needed to be careful over his footing. Anything could make him lose his balance as his strength faded. What would he do if he reached the street? Could he keep being awake? What if he just collapsed and ended up captured by the guards anyway? No, he could not give up. Not after all that. The girl kept being dragged around like a bag full of garbage. After another set of steps, her skull was cracked.

    Was he even halfway there? Gendrich wondered. His vision started to feel heavy. His limbs lost strength at every move. Just a bit more.

    He could not be in the soldiers¡¯ clothes. While one arm dragged along the walls, trying to find support, the other started ripping off his clothes. The leather pieces, in shambles, came off easily, falling to the ground piece by piece, like a trail of breadcrumbs. The shadows were light, ethereal. Of no help.

    Damn, this man.

    Gendrich started to feel the blood pouring down his body, starting right under his torso. The image of the girl started to become fuzzy, interspaced with blackness. For a moment, she saw the sewers once again. Just a bit more.

    Suddenly, the belt fell, as if Gendrich got slimmer. The trousers soon followed and he went face forward into the gray stone floor. Just a bit more strength. There was no image of a girl anymore. The thread that held everything together withstood no longer. Where once had been an old man, a battle hardened captain of the Church¡¯s Fist, there now was the slender body of a woman. Ragged and mistreated. From right below her chest, she bled profusely in the place a spear had gone almost through her bone. It burned. Her hands clawed forward, trying to drag the body with whatever strength was left in her. Just a bit more.

    She did not want to look backwards. She could only pray that the men did not come back for her.

    Was the light at the end of the path real?

    Her senses wanted to shut down. Her eyelids felt heavy, like a great sleep called for her. It could not be death, she argued to no one. The pool of blood under her disagreed.

    She saw her own hand raising, trying to reach further. But she didn¡¯t see it lowering to the ground once again. A spiraling noise took over her ears and the metallic taste of blood burned in her mouth. With the last breath within her, Alice whispered.

    ¡ª Annelise¡­

    And the world faded into shadows.

 1. Eyes Open

    Alice laid in an unknown softness.

    Eyes open, she found herself in a room. She didn¡¯t remember the last time she saw one as fancy as that, even less sleeping in one. The sun crossed the closed curtains to embalm the place in crimson light. She had lived to see the morning.

    It was no easy task to try and get up, Alice found out. The bed was very comfortable, with a feather mattress and pillow and a warm, heavy blanket. And even with the will to leave the comfort, a simple movement made her understand why she was covered in bandages under the light silk nightdress. A piece of clothing she did not recognize. Below her left breast, her flesh was ablaze. Even the idea of moving made the wound burn all over again, like the spear was still there. Her consciousness almost escaped once again as she bit her lips in pain.

    It would take a while for her to start making sense of the events. She drifted in and out of conscience, remembering only flashes of the same room and a woman feeding her a viscous, bitter liquid. Her thoughts were primitive, mere tries of wanting to find out where she was. No matter how much she tried, there were no signs of it within her memories. She felt like some of the details tried to say something, but her reasoning was not strong enough to make sense of it. A divan couch, with cushions crimson as the curtains, was placed at one corner, opposite to a bucket and a wooden basin. A simple mahogany wardrobe was right beside the bed, before the entrance. There was a mirror on the wardrobe¡¯s door, but Alice couldn¡¯t catch a glimpse of it. Amidst a sea of images, she heard the voices of women and noise from the street. A faint smell of berries filled her nostrils.

    Alice was certain about needing two things: something for the pain and something for the thirst that was almost ripping her throat apart. Doing her best to turn her head without getting another pain spike, she noticed a glass of water standing at the bedside table. Beside it, stood a small vial, containing a pale olive liquid. She reached for the water, but, as she grasped the cup, the wound screamed. Her arm retracted back in reflex and the sound of breaking glass ruptured the silence.

    ¡ª Fuck ¡ª Alice stuttered.

    There, in an unknown room, she was imprisoned once more. It had been a while. She remembered her first night at the abbey, crying in a cold, harsh bed. Thinking about what she had done to end up there. After regaining her freedom and wielding powers she didn¡¯t even know existed, Alice had found the resolve to never let anyone put her in the same position again. Now, she laid still, held prisoner by her own failing body.

    The door opened with a long creak.

    A woman entered. She had her gray-blonde hair in two twirling ponytails and wore a shining black garb decorated by flowers. She carried a jar of water, but was no maid. Her face displayed some age, despite her body not doing so. Alice thought she could be old enough to be her mother.

    ¡ª Heavens, you¡¯re awake ¡ª the woman noticed Alice¡¯s eyes going through her. She quickstepped towards the nightstand and stopped right before where the broken glass laid.

    ¡ª I thought I had heard something¡­ ¡ª she smiled and went the other way, getting right beside Alice. She placed her hand on Alice¡¯s forehead and waved her hand in front of her eyes, analyzing the reaction.

    ¡ª Well, you¡¯re fine enough to stay awake, but it¡¯ll be a while until you¡¯re running around. I guess you¡¯ve seen the thing in your chest.

    Alice grumbled.

    ¡ª We¡¯ll talk, eventually. For now, keep resting. You have a long way ahead, focus on staying alive ¡ª the woman said.

    ¡ª I¡¯ll get something for you to call us. A handbell. Just ring it and I¡¯ll summon a servant for you.

    ¡ª Where am I? ¡ª Alice managed to ask.

    The woman smiled.

    ¡ª Doesn¡¯t matter right now. All that matters is that you¡¯re safe; away from whoever did this to you. Focus on resting. Someone will come to clean the mess and bring you a new cup. Could be a metal one, this time.

    Keeping the smile, the woman left, leaving Alice by herself once again. She was at the woman¡¯s mercy, and she knew she would curse every second of it.

    Time in that room did not move as usual. The sun moved and the shadows walked away from it. At one point it was early morning and, in the blink of an eye, there was no more light. Whenever it was dark, music and chatter started to echo from the floor below. Men shouted and women laughed. The corridor outside the room became more agitated, and Alice could hear whispers coming from the walls. She had hazy fever dreams. In one, she was a girl ten years younger, walking down a dark corridor. At every locked door, she stopped and listened to whatever was behind it and heard the sounds of dance and debauchery. She tried opening them, but they were all locked. She tried knocking on them, but received no answer.

    She went farther into the corridor, where the doors became scarcer and the shadows heavier. A strong smell filled her nostrils and her feet suddenly felt wet. The symphony of depravity turned into an ominous call of the void. Louder and louder became the deep humming, which seemed to blossom from the depths of darkness. She had been there before. And, nailed down by the hole on her body, she had come to revisit the tunnels below the city many times. Sometimes she ran, sometimes she walked, trembling. Sometimes it started somewhere else, at the old Silvermoon Hall, at the abbey, but it always ended there. In the realm within the shadow.

    Waking up, she found herself never able to remember what laid at the end of the tunnel. Each time, however, she felt less miserable in her present life. The pain faded. Her movements started to feel less restricted. Drinking the bedside water was easier.

    The good-looking mistress never returned. After her visit, only a plain looking servant had come to give her the bitter medicine and refill the jar of water. They didn¡¯t exchange words, even when the girl approached to dust the bedside table. Only their eyes met once in a while.

    Soon enough, the pain was tamed enough for Alice to try more audacious movements. Waking up in a pale morning, slightly bothered by the faint sunshine that landed on her eyes, Alice tried to raise her body and sit on the bed. Laying down for so long made her feel sewed to the bed; raising her torso was like ripping apart all the threads woven between her flesh and the bed sheets. A spike of pain surged below her breast and her whole body felt sore after such a long time of stillness. She would not lay down again. In a suffering torpor, she stood still. Her legs trembled and, as she supported her feet on the floor, she knew they lacked strength.

    This ends today, she thought.

    For hours, Alice fully immersed herself in her thoughts and memories, searching for the strength she knew she had. The Mistress had once awakened it, seeking to turn the frail, meek girl into a Maiden of Desire. Once, she had told Alice:

    ¡ª Not all of man and woman carry most of the sources we can draw power from. Duty, honor, pride, love, will. Only the distinguished, nurtured from a young age will find these within themselves. You do not have any. ¡ª She remembered the Mistress¡¯ smile as she said it. ¡ª However, there is a source that any of us can harness. It is a destructive one, a double-edged sword that causes as much harm to the user as to the target. It is also the source with the most potential. It can last years, maybe even entire generations. Once burned in the soul, it can hardly go away.

    ¡ª Hatred. Once you find it, once you feed its fire, it surges. It takes over. Not even the most honorable man can fight against the hatred inside him, if its seed lays there. Hatred takes us to places that we would not dare to go, makes us choose the choices that we would never consider. Once your hatred has blossomed, all that matters is the destruction of whatever is on the other side of your fury.

    There had been such hatred inside Alice, and time only fed the fire even more. They took everything from her once. When she started to build a new life from the ashes of her past, they came back to take it again. The Maidens of Desire were no more. The words of the Mistress would never become more than memories.

    They called it the Heartfire Armor, Alice remembered. A basic willpower sorcery, it numbed pain and made their skin scalding hot. It was a suffocating sensation, and her blood seemed to boil under her skin. Still, the weakness from her legs was gone. The piercing pain from her chest turned into a faint itch. After unending days of haze and shadowy dreams, Alice stood on her feet.

    She faced the wardrobe¡¯s mirror, which now had a full view of her. The image on the other side was one that Alice had not seen in a long time. A slim figure, of pale skin and short, messy hair as dark as the night. They had dressed her in a gentle pink camisole made of very light silk, so soft that she could barely feel its touch. Her eyes were the color of the skies before a storm. For long, her Moonfell features had remained hidden, a sealed secret that belonged to a past she did not want to live in. The Glamour Veil had failed, and that couldn¡¯t be good.

    Not even death can unbind a contract, she pondered. A black void filled the back of her mind. Sooner or later, Alice knew, she would have to find out more about that. Now, however, it was about wielding the luck that had kept her alive and assessing how she could rise from that situation.

    She utilized the strength gained from the spell to walk around the room. There was not much of interest. Empty drawers and bookshelves. No clothes in the wardrobe. If anyone had lived there, they had left no traces of their stay. Only the smells of berries pervaded, a gentle touch of perfume that, like a fingerprint, declared the presence of someone there. Behind the curtains, the day was just starting. Workers went on their commute. Drunkards started their binge at whatever pub was open. While Alice had been imprisoned by her own body, life kept going. It was a weird feeling, knowing that the lack of your presence meant nothing to the world. There was no one out there wanting to know what happened to her. A lonesome kind of freedom.

    While she stood by the window, footsteps approached from the corridor. Once again, it was the servant girl, bringing her a bowl of soup. She gasped after noticing the empty bed and almost let the tray fall to the ground.

    ¡ª I¡¯m here, ¡ª Alice signaled.

    The girl walked one more step and turned to Alice with her mouth open and eyes widened. The day before, she could barely raise her hand. A night of sleep later she was fully standing, seemingly unfazed from her wounds. The servant¡¯s shock was understandable.

    ¡ª Lady, please¡­ ¡ª she quickly stepped towards Alice, raising her hand to grab her. ¡ª You should be resting.

    ¡ª No! Don¡¯t touch me!

    Alice¡¯s warning ended up coming too late. While her scream made the girl shrink in her place, her hand did not stop. Their skins met, and one was scalding hot.

    The tray went flying and the bowl of soup went the other way. The servant stepped back from the scare and tripped on a misplaced floorboard. Alice reacted in an instant, pulling the girl from the wrist. She quickly let go, but it was enough to leave a burn right where she grasped her arm. The steel tray made a sharp noise upon hitting the floor, and kept vibrating from the impact, but it was nothing compared to the loud shattering of the bowl, which ended up spreaded all over the room. Its contents flew in a close range, far enough to hit Alice and the servant.

    The girl, trembling, stepped away from Alice. She held her burnt wrist and looked with confusion to it and to the burning hand. She didn¡¯t understand. How could she?

    They said no words. They could hear a slight commotion outside and steps coming towards the room. The Heartfire Armor started to fade down, both from its user¡¯s lack of focus and her will to get normal before she scared somebody else. Immediately, a pain ran through her spine, sourced from the wound, still very much alive right beside her ribs. The burning blood on her legs cooled down, and a weakness took over. Her knees trembled and faltered. She tried supporting herself on the windowsill in anticipation of falling to the ground. She fell on her knees, right on top of the spilled soup.

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    Through the open door, two other women came in. Wearing fine robes of silk similar to Alice¡¯s camisole, they did not look like servants. They didn¡¯t seem very keen to help either. While Alice tried to get up, unsuccessfully, and the servant was still processing the situation, they watched and whispered. Some time passed before the woman from before appeared, accompanied by another maid.

    ¡ª Edith, take Millie downstairs. Then, come back with the cleaning equipment. ¡ª the woman ordered the girl beside her.

    ¡ª You two, ¡ª she spoke towards the girls in robes ¡ª Go back to your rooms, nothing to see here.

    They obliged without fare.

    The woman did not waste time and walked towards Alice, who focused so much on not letting herself fall over entirely that she could not speak. Gently, the woman squatted and wrapped her arm around Alice¡¯s back.

    ¡ª Let¡¯s get up. ¡ª With a single movement, both women stood up. Alice trembled, but where her strength faltered, the other woman provided support. Although the heat had mostly dissipated, Alice¡¯s body was still hot. It seemed like a strong fever took over her.

    ¡ª You¡¯re burning. Let¡¯s get you in the basin.

    ¡ª I¡¯m fine¡­ ¡ª Alice said, without much faith in her own words.

    ¡ª You¡¯re burning and covered in soup. Here.

    A basin full of water was right beside the window. It had a size good enough for an adult woman. The lady, whose identity Alice had a good idea of, supported herself on the wall and slowly let go of the girl, who stepped into the wooden basin. The water was at room temperature, but it was still relieving. First, only Alice¡¯s legs were underwater. Slowly, she let her body slide into almost full submersion.

    ¡ª You¡¯re making the water dirty, ¡ª the woman told her. She approached the basin and dove into the waters with her hands. In a gentle gesture, she pinched both sides of Alice¡¯s now completely wet camisole and raised it along her body. She pulled the piece of clothing and placed it on the ground.

    ¡ª Why are you doing this? ¡ª Alice asked.

    The woman smirked.

    ¡ª We got to look out for each other. I couldn¡¯t just let you die on some cold street, ¡ª she said. ¡ª And if you were to die anyway, better to keep your corpse safe. I doubt the men here have some respect for Death.

    ¡ª You are a strong one, ¡ª she continued. ¡ª The doctor we got to take a look at you doubted you¡¯d survive. We stopped the bleeding and hoped for the best; you and the gods did the rest.

    Alice looked at the woman.

    ¡ª What is your name, may I ask?

    ¡ª Maria.

    ¡ª Lady Maria. Right, ¡ª Alice said. ¡ª I guess I¡¯m in your debt.

    Maria answered with a soft laugh. Alice had a closer look of the woman, free of the haziness of the previous days. She was indeed older, maybe born a couple of decades before Alice. Her hair, more silver-blonde than grayish, was held back in a ponytail, presenting the wholeness of her face. Although age had sculpted its details, the softness of her skin and firmness of her expression indicated the usage of the creams and potions that the richest ladies of the realm religiously used to combat aging. What truly caught Alice¡¯s attention, however, were Maria¡¯s eyes. Dark blue, of sapphire-like tone, it was them who gave her face¡¯s composition its gentleness.

    Like the other two women, she dressed in a robe. It was purple, a particular hue that screamed royalty. It was decorated by lines of bright gold. To keep the robe tight on her body, she used a leather belt, with a golden buckle.

    ¡ª I¡¯m not doing this in search of a reward. At least not the reward that a girl on the street could give me, ¡ª Maria said. ¡ª No offense.

    Alice smiled.

    ¡ª I get you. Well, may the gods reward you, then. Although, from what I can tell of this place, it seems like you¡¯re in good fortune. If you are the madam of this¡­ house, of course.

    The lady bursted out laughing.

    ¡ª It seems like you¡¯re an observant one. Not that there was much attempt from us to hide our activities.

    Two girls entered the room: the one called Edith and an unknown face. One carried a bucket filled with water and a mop. The other one had a towel and a white robe. They did not wait for orders. Immediately, Edith put the bucket on the floor and started to scour and dry the floor. The girl with the towel approached Maria and delivered it to her alongside the robe.

    ¡ª Clean clothes for when you finish bathing, ¡ª Lady Maria told Alice.

    ¡ª You can leave it on the bed. I¡¯ll stay here for a while, ¡ª Alice said.

    ¡ª It doesn¡¯t appear to me that getting up is within your ability, ¡ª Maria countered. ¡ª I¡¯ll help you get dressed when you¡¯re finished.

    Alice opened her mouth in protest, but gave up before saying anything.

    For months, ever since she had escaped from an abbey in flames, Alice only knew life as prey. Not much more than a rat, crawling in the dark. There was no night that she didn¡¯t stay alert, jumping at every noise until she was so tired that there was no option other than passing out. There was no glance from a guard that did not make her heart race, imagining that she finally got caught. The room was an unknown place, filled with unknown people. But right there, submerged in calm water, in her first bath in gods know when, she felt calm and safe. Almost vulnerable.

    After cleaning up, the servants left. Once again, the pair was left alone. With a sponge that was beside the basin, Alice tried to scrub her back, only to feel a sharp pain in her wound that made her bite her inner lip. Without a word, Maria grabbed, without resistance, the sponge from her hand. Carefully, she started a movement at the back of the girl¡¯s neck, without applying much force. In a light stroke, the sponge slid over Alice¡¯s skin, running along her spine. Maria, holding the sponge near the girl¡¯s waist, moved it a bit to the side and followed up with the opposite movement, reaching all the way up to the shoulders. She repeated until all her exposed skin had been covered. Then, she started it all over again, with a firmer grasp to scrub whatever filth remained. The sound of water filled the room, muffling their rhythmed breathings.

    ¡ª That¡¯s enough, ¡ª Alice said after almost half an hour.

    She held on to the basin to try and get up. With Maria¡¯s help, she got out of it and covered herself in the towel. Maria quickly picked up a chair for her to sit on and helped her get dry.

    ¡ª Let me dry your hair. Your arms won¡¯t have enough strength and I don¡¯t want you catching a cold, ¡ª Maria said. Alice did not react to it, but made no effort to stop the lady from getting the towel.

    After that, Maria called Edith once again and told her to bring the medical supplies. The two proceeded to change Alice¡¯s bandages.

    ¡ª Some work you made me do, ¡ª Maria said as she helped Alice to get in the bed, now dressed in the new white robe.

    ¡ª Sorry for that, ¡ª Alice answered. ¡ª Will my debt be paid by working for you? I have no coin.

    ¡ª As I¡¯ve said, I¡¯m not looking to collect any debts. I did what I did because, guess what, there¡¯s some humanity in me despite the way I¡¯ve chosen to live, ¡ª Maria said.

    ¡ª What happened, anyway? How did you find me? ¡ª Alice asked.

    ¡ª Now is not the time for this. We can have this conversation later, when you¡¯re feeling better, ¡ª Maria said.

    ¡ª I¡¯m better right. Better than I was yesterday, and definitely better than I was when I got here, ¡ª Alice said.

    They faced each other for a moment. Maria couldn¡¯t contest the resolution in Alice¡¯s eyes. That girl, who she took care of and didn¡¯t know anything about, who could¡¯ve been a little lost in life, definitely knew what she wanted. And not for a moment she would let that wound stop her.

    ¡ª Fine, I¡¯ll tell you. But you¡¯ll rest afterwards, okay? You¡¯re still not recovered and you¡¯ve already made a little mess today.

    Alice smiled.

    ¡ª Won¡¯t you want to hear my side of the story? I bet you¡¯re curious. The girls that were on the door too.

    ¡ª We¡¯ll leave those questions for later, when we get some color back into your face.

    ¡ª Alright, ¡ª Alice chuckled. ¡ª Tell me and I won¡¯t bother you anymore, For today, that is.

    Maria raised her eyes and looked at the ceiling, seemingly recollecting the events.

    ¡ª Let me see¡­ It was late at night, when movement around here was at its height. During our working hours, we usually got some girls in the front. Mostly to call attention. People gotta know the quality of our service. The night we found you, Flora was one of these girls. She told me that a drunk guy started to tease her, said he had coin for her if she blew him on the alley beside the building. The guy started to get violent. Dragged her by the arm into the alley. His fun didn¡¯t last long, though. The other girl that was with Flora quickly called Fletcher, our big guy, who dealt with him. It was then that the three noticed something in the dark alley.

    ¡ª Flora was the one that went forward. The lights from the street were just enough to let her see you, naked and bleeding on the floor. The girls were quick to react. Soon enough, Fletcher barged through the door, carrying you in his arms. Luckily for you, we had a vacant room and one of our regulars happened to moonlight as a doctor. The hole in you scared us for sure, but you kept fighting. As I¡¯ve told you before, we managed to stop the bleeding, but no one was super optimistic for your life. Seems like you¡¯re a fighter.

    With interest in her eyes, Alice heard everything in silence. When Maria stopped talking, she asked:

    ¡ª Did you guys look around the alley? Found anything?

    ¡ª Yes¡­ After things cooled down a bit, I asked Flora about how she found you, ¡ª Maria answered. ¡ª I went to the alley myself, alongside Fletcher. The whole thing had startled my curiosity.

    ¡ª What did you find?

    ¡ª Nothing. At least, nothing more than a trail of blood and rats and cockroaches. We followed the trail into the backstreet, but couldn¡¯t find a single drop of blood to keep going after. We tried asking around, checking if someone had seen anything, people coming out of the alley, that sort of stuff. We mostly got shrugs.

    That didn¡¯t make sense, Alice thought. The events of that night mostly presented themselves to her as shards of memory, but she had a clear picture of getting into the alley fully clothed in the church¡¯s white garb, and then ripping it apart, leaving it along the blood trail. Did the other soldiers go after her and get there too late, only finding the clothes of their dead captain? She doubted they would just silently clean the scene and go back to wherever they came from. The main street was full of people, for sure they would have gone there to bash some heads and ask questions.

    ¡ª So that¡¯s how you ended up here. Getting bathed by the madam of a brothel and scaring poor servants.

    ¡ª Could have been worse. I could¡¯ve been found in the alley besides a brothel with a harder mattress on the bed.

    They shared a laugh. Maria got up.

    ¡ª Now, rest well¡­ ¡ª she smiled. ¡ª You know, I never asked your name, did I? I guess I was used to seeing you as the unknown, knocked-out girl. Now that I¡¯ve got the chance to talk to you, I realized that you still didn¡¯t have a name in my head.

    ¡ª It¡¯s¡­ Anne. Name¡¯s Anne.

    ¡ª Then, rest well, Anne. You¡¯ll be fine in no time.

    The madam turned her back and walked towards the door. Alice stopped her right as she went through the frame.

    ¡ª Sorry, Madam Maria, just one last thing. I understand that I have already abused too much of your goodwill. So, regarding my recovery, when I at least become able to walk again¡­

    Maria turned again, facing Alice one more time and interrupting her.

    ¡ª I have no plans to leave you where I found you, Anne, ¡ª she said. ¡ª I hadn¡¯t given thought about telling you this yet, but I should if it is reassuring. Once you get better, there¡¯s a place for you here. Nothing much, you¡¯d be a kitchen aid. You¡¯d mostly clean dishes, keep the kitchen organized and bake a pie now and then. Not the best coin either, but it would be an honest life. One to be proud about. The room would get a bit smaller, unfortunately.

    Alice knew what went through her head. She hadn¡¯t asked anything yet, but the way Alice was found didn¡¯t leave much room for doubt. Not in the Windies. Some of them were lucky, had their own little room in a house like Maria¡¯s. Had their own Fletcher. But most were on their own, walking alone under the cold night and accepting whatever coin came their way, didn¡¯t matter from who. Sometimes the guy didn¡¯t have the money he said had, or maybe just felt like being an asshole. With no protection, that¡¯s how the girls awoke in the gutter, alive only if they were lucky. Alice¡¯s lie was already halfway told, even without her speaking a word. And Lady Maria wanted to rescue her from it.

    The girl smiled.

    ¡ª I thank you, madam. You¡¯ve definitely proven that you have a good heart and that you take good care of your own, ¡ª Alice said. ¡ª I appreciate your offer. An honest life of hard work¡­ For me, that thought seemed long dead. However, it¡¯s not anymore a life that I would find fulfilling. You see, I would not like to let my skills go to waste. If you need me to prove it, I will, but I guarantee you I¡¯d be of better service as one of your whores.

    ¡ª And whatever I can offer as one¡­ It would be much better than any pie that I could ever bake.

    Alice¡¯s smile went from innocent gratitude to pure malice, taunting the woman who held her future.

    ¡ª I wouldn¡¯t like my room to get smaller, either.

 2. The Sirens Song

    The following days, visitors became more common. The first servant girl never really went back and the one called Edith took over her duties. She was quite lively, always giving Alice a happy greeting when she went into the room. She mopped the floor, changed the bedsheets, refilled the water and brought Alice most of her meals, always small-talking or singing a song. She had a good energy, Alice thought, energy of a girl who dreamed much higher than being a maid in a brothel. She liked to say that there was nothing she loved more than going to the theater.

    ¡ª Almost all of my money goes to it. Whenever I get the day off¡­ I put on my best clothes and walk all the way down to the Ritz Theater. For a coin, you get to watch an entire show ¡ª Edith said. ¡ª Moira Witzenhall, Edmund Falkner, Lisa Hart¡­ The best of the best. No good show goes without one of them.

    ¡ª Right now, they¡¯re presenting a musical named The Words of My Mother. It¡¯s so beautiful¡­ I cry everytime.

    ¡ª So you¡¯ve seen it more than once? ¡ª Alice asked.

    ¡ª Of course! I think I¡¯ve seen it four times. And I plan on seeing it at least two more times before it closes!

    Alice couldn¡¯t help but smile. The sort of juvenile joy that Edith possessed wasn¡¯t common in the world that she had been living in. When you¡¯re the last of your kind, playing an eternal, unwinnable game of cat and mouse, dreams don¡¯t carry much meaning. They don¡¯t offer relief when, deep in your gut, you know that not even a miracle could make them happen. To see someone, unfazed by the dark reality surrounding them, looking up with bright eyes and thinking of a better life than the one given to her, it reminded Alice of the good that remained.

    Lady Maria became a frequent visitor too. Almost every morning, she would arrive with a tray with all sorts of breakfast goodies and share it with her guest. Buttered toast with cinnamon was Alice¡¯s favorite, especially when followed by a glass of cold, sweet orange juice. Cakes, fresh apricots and white cheese were also served. Sometimes the meals would last for more than an hour, as they patiently enjoyed the food and exchanged pleasant words. Those moments were a pleasant respite, the madam admitted. She also insisted on being the one to change Alice¡¯s bandages.

    ¡ª Life here at the Siren¡¯s Song is probably different than what most people envision ¡ª she said, slowly removing Alice¡¯s dirty bandages.

    ¡ª So, that¡¯s what it¡¯s called ¡ª Alice interrupted.

    ¡ª Excuse me?

    ¡ª This place. It¡¯s called The Siren¡¯s¡­ Song? ¡ª Alice stuttered. Maria was halfway done with unwrapping the white cloth. The wound was exposed.

    ¡ª Oh, right. Yes ¡ª Maria chuckled. ¡ª Had I not told you?

    ¡ª I guess it never came up ¡ª Alice said.

    ¡ª It¡¯s a rather generic name, isn¡¯t it? ¡ª Maria said. ¡ª  There¡¯s probably a brothel with the same name at every harbor of the realm. But I do think it¡¯s quite beautiful. This idea of an allure so powerful that it takes over your senses, makes you do things you wouldn¡¯t consider with a sane mind. It¡¯s something a brothel would like to replicate, don¡¯t you think?

    Alice nodded, with a smile on the corner of her lips. There was certainly something about that woman. The old bandages, dirty and bloodied, laid on the floor. The madam opened a small suitcase that contained alcohol and more gauze.

    ¡ª Going back to it, it can get lonely around here. The girls work all night, and I stay up to keep the chaos under control. They go to sleep right after sunrise and I spend a mostly uneventful morning by myself, running the business. Breakfast is actually my last meal before going to bed for the day and I usually eat it alone, be it in my office or in the hall downstairs. It¡¯s a delight to share this moment with someone else, I¡¯ve got to say.

    With her teeth clenched, Alice listened. Even with Lady Maria¡¯s careful handling and the cicatrization¡¯s progress, it still hurt like hell when the alcohol rubbed on the sensitive, damaged skin. When the cleansing ended, Maria asked her to hold her breath, filling her chest and putting her on a straight posture. Her hands danced around Alice, fingers touching her skin like feathers, wrapping her nudity in white cloth. At the end of it, Alice released the air and Maria pulled the bandage, leaving it tight around the body of her guest.

    Although there was no more breakfast and the bandages were changed, most of the time they kept talking, either continuing a topic or just discussing whatever came up. Alice laid down to rest and the madam sat beside her, looking from above. Lady Maria was a fine, polite woman. Well-versed in the subjects of politics, philosophy, foreign trade and business, she was the kind of person to have an opinion on any matter brought to her. She usually leveled down the conversation based on the other person, however, in Alice, she had found someone to match her wits.

    ¡ª You¡¯d be surprised if you knew how much the words of whores impact the realm ¡ª Maria said. ¡ª The big guys come for the sex, and stay for someone who feeds their ego, comments on their problems and give solutions better than anything their little brain could weave. Making it look like it was their idea, of course. They get home to their wives, sad, stupid women forged to think that their most important thing within them is their womb, and long for us. Before you realize it, you¡¯ve already got a new regular.

    ¡ª When I was adopted into my first house of pleasure, the afternoons were for learning. Madam Therese hired merchants to teach us the numbers and the trades, professors to teach us the words and the thoughts of those who came before. She even managed to get a priest to go there every week to teach us about the faith. Some of us could be at a college, tearing down the ancient thoughts of the walking corpses that walk around there, believing they¡¯re the smartest people alive. We could be at courts, saving the lives of women and their babies instead of just accepting that you may die when giving birth.

    ¡ª  In this sad little world, however, our path to power is to sell what should be our most sacred. Here, we have our own little realm. They come to us, filled with lust, and we enslave them using the weapons that we possess. We whisper in their ears and make them obey. And the best part is that they want it. All of it.

    She¡¯s teasing me, Alice thought. Even though she had downplayed it, Alice¡¯s knowledge had catched Lady Maria¡¯s attention. Educated, probably literate. You don¡¯t get that when you¡¯re just a girl trying to survive in the streets. Every time Alice asked about the offer she had made, Maria told her she was mulling over it and offered little insight about her own thoughts. Now, it was clear that Alice¡¯s hand was played too early, and all chips were on the other player¡¯s side, who was ready to flaunt and hold them as long as she could.

    The woman, even if she didn¡¯t know what she was really doing, had a good grasp of how Desire worked. Better than some of the Maidens.

    The pair¡¯s meetings usually ended when Lady Maria remembered a pending chore or some other task to be done before bed. That morning was no different.

    ¡ª I must go ¡ª Maria said. ¡ª We¡¯ll be getting a new batch of wine casks today and I need to wrap up the payment¡¯s details.

    ¡ª Seems boring ¡ª Alice answered.

    ¡ª Can¡¯t say it isn¡¯t ¡ª Maria chuckled.

    ¡ª Can¡¯t be worse than staying in this bed the whole day ¡ª Alice said. ¡ª Before you go, can you do me a favor?

    ¡ª What is it?

    ¡ª I need something to occupy my mind. A book, perhaps. You don¡¯t imagine how mind-numbingly boring it can get in here ¡ª Alice said.

    ¡ª I¡¯ll see what I can do ¡ª Maria said. ¡ª Any preferences? Romance, history, poetry?

    ¡ª Get me a favorite of yours. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll like it ¡ª Alice answered with a smile on her face.

    ¡ª I¡¯ll think of something good ¡ª Maria said.

    The madam left, once more leaving Alice by herself.

    And if it was before, she would¡¯ve appreciated the time alone, however, there, behind closed curtains and in the shadows of the afternoon, there was no curtain to cover the darkness that loomed within her. Powerless, weakened of mind and body, she had no way to face it. There was no point in facing away, she would soon discover. The void called and, without anyone to muffle it, its voice only became higher and higher. At first, she tried venturing through it, to find the whispers that once lived there. The presence of Lylael, a succubus, could not be felt there anymore. She was Alice¡¯s contracted demon, bound to her in an ancient blood ritual of the Maidens of Desire. Despite their mission to rid the world of such fiends, the Maidens relied on pacts with the creatures to wield powers beyond the domains of man and to strengthen their own fire. In the battle against both their mundane and otherworldly foes, the contracts were one of their greatest weapons.

    As a succubus, Lylael gave Alice strong Glamour powers, which included a Glamour Veil that even on death would not come off. Alice knew something was wrong the moment she looked at the mirror and her old self looked back, unveiled. While daylight was still out and quietness ruled the Siren¡¯s Song, she tried using her old meditation techniques to reach out to the door to the Otherworld that lies within each of our minds. It was the closest she had got to the source of the darkness, and it was enough for her to decide to only go back in full strength, with a good ritual in hand.

    Edith appeared around noon, with a refilled jar of water and a hardcover book. She found Alice laying in a puddle of sweat, eyes gazing at the ceiling.

    ¡ª Lady Anne? Are you alright? ¡ª the little servant asked, approaching the bed.

    Alice came out of the trance and answered with a smile.

    ¡ª I¡¯m fine.

    ¡ª I¡¯ve brought you water ¡ª Edith said. ¡ª We have chicken sandwiches for lunch. Do you want me to fetch you one?

    ¡ª Hmm, not really. Maybe later. I¡¯m still full from breakfast ¡ª Alice said. ¡ª What have you got there?

    As Edith switched the empty jar of water for the refilled one, Alice gestured towards the book held by her left arm.

    ¡ª Oh, right ¡ª Edith answered. ¡ª Lady Maria asked me to bring you this.

    She handed Alice the hardback, an ocean blue volume, with golden embossed letters spelling the title. All the Stars in the Sky. The title touched something within her, but Alice couldn¡¯t quite put her finger on it. Quickly flipping through the pages, she could see it was a children¡¯s book, full of drawings of starry night skies and nymphs bathed by moonlight. Written by hand, the black letters popped out from the tan paper in smooth curves and hard edges. They danced as eyes passed over them.

    A bit of sunlight came through the curtains, although not enough for a good read, Alice observed. She could turn on the gaslamp, but the orangey, dim light was not of her pleasure. When she noticed Edith had left, Alice left the book on the bed.

    She made the effort to raise her upper body and sit on the mattress¡¯ border. Her legs felt much stronger, pretty much already as good as they were. The problem was still the recovering wound. It had made a lot of progress, but as soon as she started to support herself with her feet, a wave traveled through her body until it reached her chest and made it feel like it was bursting open. Calmly, she controlled her breath. A deep inhale. A soft exhale. She touched her own source, away from the shadows. It was getting stronger each day, but she had no need for raw power. Like barely opening a sink to let a trickle through, she drew from the source just enough to cast a weaker version of Heartfire Armor. If she let the heat irradiate, it would have no effect. Projecting her body into her mind¡¯s eye, Alice visualized how energy flowed through it and, like a sculptor, shaped it until it concentrated around her chest.

    The pain had gone away almost in its entirety. Alice waltzed around the room, enjoying the touch of the warm floorboards on her feet. Her sky blue camisole flowed alongside her movements and, as she approached the window, the sunlight made it see-through, exposing the bandages underneath. She raised her arms, which made a sharp pain pop up on the wound, even through the armor, and made the curtains run all the way through their silver rod. The early afternoon light took over the room and made it shine in bright wood color. She considered leaving a tiny gap open in the window, but making actual effort with arms did not seem like a good idea. She just left her hands on the stool and closed her eyes, letting the sun bathe her.

    It was in that very short window of time that footsteps quickly approached. Before Alice could even understand the sound, the approaching turned into a knock on the door. It was that kind of rhetoric knock, where the person at the door doesn¡¯t really care about the consent of who¡¯s in the room, they are just announcing their arrival.

    Two girls appeared from behind the door. They were dressed similarly to the two peeking women from the other day. One, a blonde girl whose wavy hair went all the way to her elbows, wore an open green robe, decorated with golden serpents, over a black bodysuit. The other looked a bit tomboyish at first, with her jet black pixie haircut and stern expression, but her black nightdress, under a translucent gray dressing gown, accented her generous curves.

    ¡ª Oh my, you¡¯re walking already! ¡ª The blonde said.

    Quickly, Alice went to sit on the bed, toning down her Heartfire Armor at each step. She landed on the mattress right as she felt her legs shaking. It was better to avoid another touching incident.

    ¡ª I was just¡­ opening the windows. The madam got me a book and I didn¡¯t want to turn on the lamp or call someone for something so meager ¡ª Alice said. A drip of sweat ran down her cheek.

    ¡ª Hey, it¡¯s no problem! I¡¯d come here myself if I could. Maybe I can get you a ringing bell just for me¡­ ¡ª the blonde said. She had already barged into the room and sat right beside Alice.

    ¡ª Your name¡¯s Anne, right? ¡ª The brunette, still standing in front of the door. ¡ª Sorry about her. She¡¯s been a bit happier than usual now that you¡¯re feeling better, and the madam finally let her visit.

    ¡ª I was the one that found you! ¡ª the other girl was happy to declare with a smile on her face and swinging her legs.

    ¡ª Oh! ¡ª Alice tried to match her excitement. ¡ª That would make you¡­ Flora, right?

    ¡ª Yes! ¡ª Flora squeaked. ¡ª You know me!

    Without a warning, Flora jumped on Alice with her arms open, squeezing her in a tight hug.

    ¡ª I¡¯m so happy you¡¯re doing well! Ohmygods I was so afraid you¡¯d die, you know, I couldn¡¯t sleep since finding you that way, you are so pretty, ohgods, how can anyone do something like that, I can never forgive them, you¡¯re so beautiful, how would anyone have the courage to hurt you¡­

    Tears poured down her face right into Alice, who, imprisoned in the bear hug, felt like a hammer had dropped in her wound and was about to gasp for air. Her senses went numb from pain and only a stutter came out when she tried to call for help.

    ¡ª Flora! ¡ª The third girl intervened. ¡ª She¡¯s still wounded, you¡¯re gonna kill her!

    ¡ª Ohmygods! ¡ª As quick as she had leaned into Alice, Flora released her. The acute pain toned down, but the wound went back to burning like hell. Alice stood still, holding her chest and catching her breath.

    ¡ª I¡¯m so sorry, so sorry, so sorry! ¡ª Flora said.

    ¡ª It¡¯s okay¡­ ¡ª Struggling, Alice opened her eyes and tried to reassure the girl. Such words didn¡¯t have much effect when its deliverer was nearly passing out.

    While Flora went down on her knees, the black-haired girl was quick to react. She went to the bedside table and picked up the bottle with the viscous liquid. She took it to Alice alongside a cup of water.

    ¡ª Here. Drink it ¡ª she said.

    Alice was quick to gulp it down. The medicine was bitter and acidic, making her insides burn as it ran down her throat. It was always followed by an impulse to vomit, which she treated by downing the entire glass of cold water in one go. The analgesic effect was fast, and while the bitter taste still settled in her mouth, she started to feel a relief coming from within. At least she was able to breathe.

    ¡ª I thought¡­ I thought I had killed you ¡ª Flora immediately started to bawl.

    ¡ª Come on, Flora. Despite your best effort, she¡¯ll be fine. You just pressed her wound a bit.

    ¡ª I¡¯m sorry¡­ I didn¡¯t mean to ¡ª Flora said between sobs.

    ¡ª Sorry for disturbing your rest. When the madam told us we could see you, Flora jumped from her seat. She didn¡¯t mean any harm. Considering the way she found you, she¡¯s just really happy about your recovery¡ª the brunette said. ¡ª We all are, although our enthusiasm can¡¯t really compare to hers.

    ¡ª Haha, can¡¯t say I was expecting it ¡ª Alice said under her weak breath. She went up the bed, letting her legs rest straight as she supported herself with her arms. The brunette picked up the wooden chair from near the basin and placed it right in front of the bedside table, where she sat.

    ¡ª I¡¯m Miranda, by the way ¡ª she said while sitting down. ¡ª One of the house¡¯s mistresses, as you¡¯ve probably guessed.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡ª I¡¯m a mistress too! ¡ª Flora exclaimed. ¡ª We were together the night we found you, working in front of the house. Some guy tried dragging me to the alley¡­ but Mira here arrived with Fletcher and sent him flying! That was when I saw you¡­

    ¡ª Fletcher¡¯s our security guy ¡ª Miranda complemented.

    ¡ª Heard about him. The madam told me the story ¡ª Alice said.

    The girls exchanged looks. Miranda had a more stern face and her expression didn¡¯t let much out, but Alice could see the dance of Flora¡¯s facelines. Her eyes widened, her lips trembled and retreated. In silence, they talked about something.

    ¡ª You want me to tell you about it but the madam has forbidden you from asking, right? ¡ª Alice said.

    ¡ª Well¡­ ¡ª Miranda stuttered.

    ¡ª Yeah! ¡ª Flora answered.

    Alice laughed at her honesty. With those girls in her room, she couldn¡¯t help but remember her time at the abbey, surrounded by girls her age. At nights, they would sneak into each other¡¯s rooms and drink stolen wine until dawn, gossiping about their tutors and whoever wasn¡¯t there. All hidden from the Mistress.

    ¡ª She¡¯s not here, is she? You can ask me all you want.

    Miranda gave her an awkward smile.

    ¡ª I¡¯m not sure we should ¡ª she said.

    ¡ª Do you want to? ¡ª Alice asked. ¡ª If you do, then who cares about should or shouldn¡¯t?

    Miranda bit her lip and looked down. She was obviously enticed, but it seemed that the madam had a good grasp on them. It was a good strategy of hers, cultivating honesty and confidence in her girls. Alice could just keep talking and force them to listen, it¡¯s just that there would be no fun in that. She had to win.

    Flora eyes kept switching targets. Although she appeared to possess the same sense of obedience towards Lady Maria, she was definitely easier to bend. All that she needed was Miranda¡¯s validation.

    ¡ª Tell us, then ¡ª Miranda said. ¡ª Who did this to you, Anne?

    Alice faced down and sighed. She had been a little too manipulative and felt she needed a way to tone herself down. The story was already in her head. It was no hard task to come up with one: she imagined the sort of theories that were whispered around. A girl, naked and bloodied on an alley didn¡¯t leave much room for doubt. Not in the Windies. Some of them were lucky, had their own little room in a house like Maria¡¯s. Had their own Fletcher. But most were on their own, walking alone under the cold night and accepting whatever coin came their way, didn¡¯t matter from who. Sometimes the guy didn¡¯t have the money he said had, or maybe just felt like being an asshole. With no protection, that¡¯s how the girls awoke in the gutter, alive only if they were lucky. Alice¡¯s lie was already halfway told, even without her speaking a word.

    ¡ª I had a customer. I had seen him before. In the warehouse, where I got most of my clients. It¡¯s always the same guys approaching me, but more than once I saw him looking at me. Then, that night, he finally got the courage to come and talk to me. Showed me the coin without me even asking ¡ª Alice said.

    ¡ª He was clearly nervous. Said he had a family. Most of them do, as you probably know. He genuinely seemed to feel guilty, though, so I wasn¡¯t really intimidated by him. He said he wanted a private place and that there was a nice, cheap inn a few streets down. I just went along with it. Yet another night of work.

    ¡ª We never reached that inn. I doubt it even existed. We went deep into the streets, walked along a path of abandoned warehouses and all the sorts of forsaken places you can find here. Was I scared? Not really. When you¡¯re at the low end of our line of work, you get used to being taken to that kind of place. Empty houses where they can do anything to you. We got into a dark corner, where I could barely see anything. I don¡¯t remember every detail, but he got violent very quickly. Grabbed my wrist, slapped me around. I was going to just close my eyes and let him have his way of me, until I saw the fucking knife in his hand. I didn¡¯t see the moment he grabbed it. It sent a chill down my spine and I started to struggle, trying to get away from his grasp. But he already held a tight grip on me. I couldn¡¯t do anything. No one would care about my screams. He used the knife to rip off my clothes, all of it. I knew he wouldn¡¯t stop there.

    A tear came running down Alice¡¯s face. Both the girls had been listening carefully, with serious looks on their faces.

    ¡ª I think the panic just took over my body ¡ª Alice continued. ¡ª I don¡¯t even remember how it went. I just¡­ somehow broke free from him, without getting cut. I think I may have hit him hard enough to stun him for a few seconds. It was enough for me to start running. I didn¡¯t care about anything, I just wanted to escape. I tried knocking on doors, but the bastard had really taken me to a place where everything was abandoned. Or maybe people just didn¡¯t care¡­

    ¡ª And I didn¡¯t even scream¡­ My mind just didn¡¯t think of it, I guess. I was focused on running and getting somewhere. But¡­ it can get messy with all the alleys, stairs, thin streets, whatever. I didn¡¯t really know where I was and he probably was way more used to it than me, if he chose it as his spot. Despite getting a good head start, he had found me, and he was going to get me.

    ¡ª I had already seen the lights of this street. Heard the voices. If I had just found my way here earlier¡­ or, I don¡¯t know, screamed. He managed to grab me right as I entered the alley. From the look on his face, he probably was in a panic too, having let his victim escape. I don¡¯t know what he was trying to do, handle me in some way or another, but as his left hand grabbed my fist, his right one held the knife that pierced me right here ¡ª Alice placed her hand below her chest.

    ¡ª Have you ever wondered how trash feels when we throw it around? I hadn¡¯t either, but, after what happened, I thought about it. It¡¯s probably something like what I felt then. He immediately realized that he had fucked up. The knife came out and my blood started to pour out. I was in shock. No reaction. He watched me tremble, trying to place my hand on the wound. He didn¡¯t even say anything before running away. Or maybe he did. All I know is that my mind was focused on survival. I fell to the ground, scratching my knees. I must have blacked out not much long after. The last thing I remember is just¡­ wanting to survive, you know? I think that¡¯s how I ended up closer to the other end of the alley. I don¡¯t remember it, but with my last strength, perhaps, I dragged myself towards the light and the voices.

    ¡ª And that was where I found you¡­ ¡ª Flora whispered. She rested her left hand over Alice¡¯s and looked at her with reddened eyes. ¡ª I¡¯m so sorry¡­ how could I have not noticed it? I was so close to you¡­

    Alice smiled and, with a single finger, dried off the second tear she had managed to produce.

    ¡ª It¡¯s not your fault. Trust me ¡ª Alice reassured her.

    While Flora had gotten emotional and closer to the girl she knew as Anne, Miranda had listened in silence. She remained taciturn, not showing any particular reaction to the story. A good time after the room went quiet and her distancing stood out, she phased back in, stuttering words of assurance.

    ¡ª Uh¡­ Thank the gods we were quick to rescue you ¡ª she said. ¡ª It was certainly a close call. We could almost thank the guy that was bothering Flora.

    The three shared an awkward chuckle. To lighten up the mood a bit, Alice started to ask the pair, with questions mostly directed at Flora, who she had seen as more amiable and open to talking, about their lives in The Siren¡¯s Song. The blonde girl''s easy-goingness matched her enthusiasm for the job. Most women ended up in that life due to necessity, but Alice doubted that, if Flora had the choice, she¡¯d pick anything else. She viewed the work as an excuse to always get dressed and try her best to look good, wear the best clothing and perfumery, buy potions, ointments and creams to keep the youth in her face. The actual service done was nothing more than a small nuisance. It could even be good, sometimes.

    Miranda hardly shared the same excitement. She put in the effort, and her natural good looks helped her get ahead of the competition, but you could never say that she enjoyed it. Like many others, she had probably gotten into it for the easy coin. Someone must have told her that men pay a lot for a beauty like her. If she had any other plans within her, they must have been washed away long ago. The sound of broken dreams was clear when she muttered about life as a mistress.

    They left around three o¡¯clock. Something about philosophy lessons. Lady Maria was not lying about the education, Alice observed.

    Not much later, Edith arrived with the chicken sandwich and a glass of fresh grape juice. During the remainder of the afternoon, which proved to be peaceful, Alice slowly ate her meal while reading the book that was lent to her.

    It was a child¡¯s tale, of a girl that was told by her father that her deceased mother had turned into a star. During one night, the girl escaped to the lake near her house, where a reflection of the sky¡¯s image lived. A nymph that inhabited the waters felt sorry for the girl and told her that the path towards the stars did not begin there, but she would help her find it. The pair ended up encountering a great hollow tree with a magic bridge inside. The bridge went all the way up towards the sky and spiraled among the stars, letting a wanderer reach all of them if they had the will to. The girl and the nymph started to visit the shining spots, meeting the souls of dead people. They met kings, prophets, sages and a great miscellaneous of people, each with a lesson to give, but there was no sign of the girl¡¯s mother. They kept walking along the bridge and at each step the light from the stars became scarcer. At the end of it, when all that remained was the darkness of the night, they found a man living in what he called a ¡°dark star¡±.

    He said that he didn¡¯t know who he was. The world had forgotten him, all he once knew had long gone away, so why should he keep remembering it?

    He did not know where the girl¡¯s mother had gone to. All that he knew, said himself, was that not all of them decided to leave their souls burning atop a star. Once in a while, someone had a thought which they saw as original and leaped to the bridge, looking for a new path in their afterlives. Lots of them ended up there, in the dark star, and when they saw it, they decided to get back to their own stars and shut up about everything forever. However, he said, it was fabled that not all paths end up there. Maybe, in an even rarer event, someone actually found a road with meaning and would not be seen among the stars ever again.

    The girl and the nymph went back and descended to the great hollow tree, defeated. All that he wished, the girl said, was that the nymph walked her back to bed and sang a lullaby to her. The nymph, with tears in her eyes, agreed. She picked up the girl and laid her in her arms. Her soft, beautiful voice soared through the quiet night, and it was said that her chant echoed in the dreams of every man alive. The girl had seen too much of a world that was not hers, and to let her return would be to risk the fragile balance of the two sides of a mirror. Together, they submerged into the lake, where, every night, the stars went to visit.

    The madam did not appear for breakfast the next day. Edith brought the tray with all the goodies and, when she returned to pick up the dishes, changed the bandages. There was no note or message delivered, like there usually was when Lady Maria missed their little morning meet-up. The day didn¡¯t bring any other news, either. Alice imagined that she would at least appear to pick up the book.

    Another day broke and, again, Edith was the one that took the breakfast to her. No message. Something was wrong.

    Alice waited until after her bandages were changed. She listened to the servant girl¡¯s footsteps closely as she moved away from the room. She would need some freedom. In a rush, Alice poised herself up and stood in a sitting position. The Heartfire Armor, focused on her chest, was easy to put up. She had practiced it well. Carefully, Alice went to the door and slowly turned the knob, reducing the noise as much as she could. There was a trick or two to make it silent, but she didn¡¯t have the energy to spare. Like a sore thumb, her head popped up into the corridor from the slightly opened door. She had picked a good time: no one was there to stop her. Barefooted, she stepped into the hallway. It had the same woodworks as the room, floorboards of darkened, royal wood that became alive when sunlight hit it. The decoration was modest, but of good-taste. The plants provided a good color contrast, while all sorts of paintings were hung on the walls. Both sides of the corridor had four doors. Each one of them was a room, Alice imagined. To the left, the path ended in a staircase to the lower floor, which probably was the main hall. To the right, the corridor ended in a curve, leading to more rooms.

    She went towards the staircase. It would be a sure way to get to know more about the place. In light footsteps she walked, wary about waking up any of the girls. When she arrived at the top of the stairs, Alice saw that the floor continued in front of her. A mezzanine, about ten feet over the floor, had been built overseeing the main hall and it covered an entire wall. It had a short breadth, so the tables were spread in a single line, with a small bar at the left end. That extension was probably the reason that the chatter, during some nights, seemed to be happening on the same floor. Standing by the railing, she could look downwards and see the whole extension of the hall downstairs. Tables of the same kind as upstairs, made of walnut, were organized in a uniform pattern around four pillars and populated most of the view. Right where the staircase ended, a counter began, much bigger than the one above. Behind it, there was what could only be an entrance to the kitchen, guarded behind a double door that never seemed to stay closed. Even then, hours before service started, the Song was effervescent.

    What truly captured the eye though, was the hanging chandelier, fully in view from the second floor. Alice had some experience with ballrooms, lavish religious buildings and lord¡¯s houses, still, the brothel¡¯s stood out even amongst those. It was a intertwinement of gold and silver, with candles where the metals joined. Even on the modest afternoon illumination, without the candlelight, it had a glamorous shine to it.

    From above, the servants looked like ants, going about their day in fast, synchronized fashion. They never bumped into each other nor stayed idle for long. Alice looked for a boss, someone that kept the orchestra running by shouting orders here and there. There was no one. It was like watching a well-oiled machine running on full power.

    ¡ª Looking good.

    Too absorbed by the movement, Alice didn¡¯t notice the approaching steps. She turned and crossed eyes with Lady Maria, who was leaning on the door frame that separated the mezzanine from the corridor. She wore the same flowered black garb as in the first time Alice saw her. The stems were drawn in bright silver, which complemented the color of the madam¡¯s hair.

    ¡ª Madam¡­ Didn¡¯t see you coming ¡ª Alice said, flustered. What¡¯s happening to me? She thought.

    ¡ª I imagined I¡¯d find you lurking around as soon as you could ¡ª Lady Maria said as she approached Alice. ¡ª What did you think about the book?

    The woman smiled at Alice and pulled two chairs from a table. As she sat in one of them, she gestured towards the other.

    ¡ª Let¡¯s sit down a bit. You shouldn¡¯t be standing for too long.

    Alice nodded and sat on the chair, facing the madam.

    ¡ª So? What¡¯s your opinion on the book?

    ¡ª Oh, right ¡ª Alice said. ¡ª Well, it was not what I had expected when I asked for one. It was not very long, so, since free time was not lacking for me, I¡¯ve read it enough times to digest it.

    ¡ª I didn¡¯t know what you expected, so I didn¡¯t want to burden you with a heavier read ¡ª Maria said. ¡ª The beauty about my pick, I think, is that, although short, the prose has a lot to unpack. I imagine you think so too, considering you¡¯ve ended up reading it many times.

    ¡ª I do ¡ª Alice answered. ¡ª The words are clear, as they should be in a child¡¯s tale, but there¡¯s just something in it¡­ Something ethereal, that makes you feel like you¡¯re dreaming when you truly get immersed into it. When I think about what the book really offers, I¡¯m not thinking about hidden meanings, parallels with something else or whatever. No matter how you look at it, you should be seeing it for what it is: the story of a girl seeking for her dead mother among the stars. What¡¯s there to be understood is all hidden within the characters. In their choice of words, their reactions and how their feelings are expressed to the world. It¡¯s beautiful, really, but also¡­ sad.

    Lady Maria looked at her, intrigued. After seconds of silence, she smiled.

    ¡ª You¡¯re a smart girl, Anne ¡ª the madam said. ¡ª And you make no effort to hide it. Perhaps you should.

    Something felt wrong in Alice¡¯s gut.

    ¡ª Do you remember what I told you? About the power we can exert? There¡¯s some very important details to it ¡ª Maria said. ¡ª You should be invisible and you should never bite more than you can chew.

    The madam¡¯s voice became lower and more incisive. She moved her neck forward, approaching Alice. The girl had no reaction.

    ¡ª What do you think would happen if, someday, the Minister of War came into my room and, without ceremony, I showed how much smarter than him I was and made no reservations about manipulating him?

    ¡ª He¡¯d kill you ¡ª  Alice answered.

    ¡ª He¡¯d kill me ¡ª  Maria nodded. ¡ª When you play this game, it¡¯s not about being the smartest one in the room. It¡¯s about being the last one standing. Come in thinking you¡¯re the better one, trying to play other people like you do chess pieces, and you¡¯ll end up with a knife on your back the moment you turn around. To play men like the fiddle they are, you must first lower their guard and win their confidence. You, Anne, are in dire need of this lesson.

    ¡ª Me and the girls¡­ I see them as family ¡ª Maria continued. ¡ª And I¡¯m certain they see me as theirs too. You may find it funny, considering our line of business, and think that at any opportunity they would take my place, but there¡¯s confidence between us. A confidence forged throughout years. Do you think that anyone can come here and test it?

    Alice held her breath. She couldn¡¯t show any sign of weakness. With her lips tightened, she kept facing Maria with a cold gaze.

    ¡ª I know about your story ¡ª Maria said. ¡ª I imagine that once you heard that I had forbidden the girls from bothering you with it, the idea of testing them appeared instantly to you. You probably had been thinking about that already, considering the confidence in which you offered me your services. There must be a whole plan cooking in your head.

    Despite the inflammatory words, Lady Maria maintained a smile, one of almost mockery. Alice tried matching her, but couldn¡¯t fully hide the true feelings behind it. The madam seemed to catch every failure of hers, her eyes becoming narrower as she scanned the girl¡¯s face.

    ¡ª But, well, due to that little play of yours, I¡¯ve got my story a little earlier than what I had envisioned. Although, I¡¯m not sure if I like it in its current state.

    ¡ª What do you mean? ¡ª Alice asked.

    ¡ª You see, when I told you about the night we found you abandoned to die, I, perhaps accidentally, ended up omitting a little fact ¡ª Maria said. ¡ª It was true that, when we went back to the alley, there was nothing to see there other than pools of blood, but, when we got back, the doctor was the one who had made a discovery.

    ¡ª You held something in a very tight grip. So tight that Fletcher was the one to release it from you. Do you remember what it was?

    ¡ª No ¡ª Alice said without skipping a beat.

    ¡ª It was a piece of white cloth. Torn.

    ¡ª I must have ripped it off from my assailant¡¯s clothing, then ¡ª Alice said. ¡ª If the story was passed on correctly, you must know that there was a struggle. I probably ripped off  a piece of his clothing and just didn¡¯t notice it while running for my life.

    Maria chuckled.

    ¡ª Please. If I were you, I¡¯d refrain from stitching up the original tale ¡ª the madam said. ¡ª  If I had heard your story before taking my conclusions, maybe I¡¯d have more doubts, but, once I had a good look at it, I had a clear view of its origins. The material, the quality¡­ The details spoke for themselves. I had a guess and, soon, other people confirmed it for me. We concluded that the cloth clearly was from the cloak of a member of the Church¡¯s Fist, our good friends defenders of Temperance.

    Alice¡¯s face twitched.

    ¡ª And, since you were knocked out, all I was left with was my imagination. You have a hole in your chest and held a ripped-off piece of a soldier¡¯s uniform; surely, a man of the Church¡¯s Fist had done this to you. If I had interrogated you as soon as you came to, I¡¯d probably get the same story you told the girls, maybe something less elaborate. You¡¯d be afraid. They hurt you once, why wouldn¡¯t they come back to finish the job, especially if you went around denouncing them for an assault? I insisted on not asking you about it, and not letting the girls do it too, to let you rest and feel safer, safe enough to tell the truth about who attacked you.

    ¡ª Despite that, I received a lie anyway ¡ª Maria joined her fingers and supported her chin on them. Her mouth softened and her eyes assumed a worried look. ¡ª I can¡¯t come here and judge you for it or presume your reasons. You have tried to manipulate us and you certainly have ulterior motives, offering to work for me as quickly as you could, but, still, maybe you¡¯re just afraid. We¡¯d do anything to survive, wouldn¡¯t we?

    Alice felt her forehead covered in cold sweat. Below the table, she shaked her right leg, anxious. She poised herself with her elbows on the wood, leaning forward. Slowly, the words came out.

    ¡ª  Since you have it all figured out, why don¡¯t you just throw me out? ¡ª Alice asked.

    The madam crossed her legs and moved back onto the chair, supporting her back. She made a thinking gesture with one arm, while the other held its elbow.

    ¡ª I don¡¯t feel like I¡¯ve got everything figured out ¡ª Maria answered. ¡ª I¡¯ve got you cornered, sure, but right now, you¡¯d just say anything to keep alive. My only interest is in the truth. If I have to keep you around a bit longer to get to it, I will do so gladly.

    ¡ª Why do you care so much? ¡ª Alice asked.

    ¡ª Oh, don¡¯t worry ¡ª Maria said, smirking. ¡ª I have my reasons. If you behave, maybe you¡¯ll find out eventually.

    The women stood still, facing each other. The hold that Lady Maria had on the situation was tangible. Alice felt like a puppet. She had no idea about the woman¡¯s reasoning or what she intended to do; even after the cold confrontation, Alice couldn¡¯t tell if she was malicious or not. There was no excuse to justify a violent way out.

    And then there¡¯s this fucking wound.

    ¡ª I think we are done here ¡ª Lady Maria said. ¡ª For now.

    ¡ª What should I do? ¡ª Alice bit her lower lip while speaking in a meager voice. She looked towards the ground, avoiding the madam¡¯s dark blue eyes.

    ¡ª Go back to your room ¡ª Maria said while getting up from the chair. ¡ª We¡¯ll continue later.

    She stepped towards the exit, suddenly stopping on the moment she crossed the door frame.

    ¡ª Are you still willing to offer me your services? ¡ª Lady Maria said. ¡ª If you want to keep your nice room, then you¡¯ll have to work for it. Do be aware that this is no shithole. My girls are the best and I intend to keep it that way. I¡¯ll give you a chance, but you have to prove you¡¯re worth it.

    Alice turned and faced the woman.

    ¡ª Do you want to see me eating from your hand? ¡ª She asked.

    ¡ª Absolutely ¡ª Maria said. ¡ª Until I get what I want from you, you¡¯ll be mine.