by Cheri Chaise
My heart would never survive.
However, teaching some lessons to his girls would get me through the doors of Sir Kranst’s brothel. Provide access to the inside, where I might learn more about his supposed wards. Maybe even discover the records of how they came to him.
“Just some of the basics then,” I ventured.
“Of course.”
I’d have to swear everyone involved to secrecy if I was to keep word from reaching the House Matron. Lily would not only be upset by the traitorous actions against the House, but it would hurt our abiding friendship in irreparable ways.
Yet if I could save those young children from a fate in the hands of this man, I had to take the chance offered.
“Would the lessons take place at the brothel?”
“There’s no better place.”
I couldn’t agree more. Without a doubt, I was going to regret this. So very much. But it was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up to enter the lion’s den.
I extended my hand. “Sir Kranst, we have a deal.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The brothel was unlike anything I’d expected. Instead of the newer government constructed towers of residences such as where Ambassador Dregas lived or the old subterranean hovels where most of the lower classes resided, the structure was a free-standing building that took up the majority of the city block.
By far it stood longer than its three-story aboveground height, save for the massive domed tower rising from the far side. The entrance was several steps lower in a cutaway of native rock instead of a rising staircase to a front door like those on more hospitable planets.
Even though Sir Kranst had sent a speeder craft instead of a hovercarriage to pick me up, I was still glad I’d chosen to wear the new boots Jace had purchased beneath the long-sleeved dress. Instead of the gossamer of my station, I wore the fur wrap Trina had gifted to me.
I deemed it best to avoid too much of the glamour and ostentation I usually wore for outings so as not to highlight the painful distinction between me and my students. The only ornamentation I allowed was the jeweled hairpiece with a diamond fastener and a single teardrop pearl hanging over my forehead.
A crust of dirty ice cracked around the edges of the central door as it opened and we were ushered into a closed vestibule by a hulking man who’d more than give Jace a run for his credits – if only he were present.
My mech tech was none too happy with me for leaving him on the ship. More so due to the fact that I didn’t want to risk Sir Kranst remembering him from the other night, than for – as he’d deemed – babysitting Rylan. BIP could certainly handle keeping a young lady like her secure in her pod.
But if the brothel owner recognized Jace as my client from the ambassador’s soirée, and too many questions were asked about our continued association, it might cause more problems for us than even Trina could manage.
However, I was grateful she’d insisted on sending along two of her most trusted security personnel in Jace’s stead. Their presence with me could easily be explained, since courtesans were technically under the protection of the crown.
The titter among the girls and flagrant fawning as the guards followed me into the huge, main salon said these two were well-known around here. Likely the ones who accompanied Trina on her visits.
The men kept their focus on the job at hand, ignoring the prostitutes and taking possession of my wrap the moment I removed it. They then stood behind me at either side of the doorway as if it were second nature. No wonder Trina considered them her most trusted.
The thirty or so ladies lazed around on settees and fainting couches that had at one time been top-of-the-line from Bastalone’s forests, though they’d since seen better days.
Still, the large receiving room was warm and pleasant, though rather dimly lit. I imagine the shadowed corners found more than a few couples partaking of one another on a given night before scurrying up the polished grand staircase to one of the rooms along the second floor.
If the many doorways in full view of the balcony were any indication, he had room for well over the number of girls gathered to hear my presentation.
And house more than a couple of children too.
Some of the prostitutes were fully dressed and perched primly but stiffly on the edge of their seats, while most appeared as if they’d just crawled from bed and come to the meeting in negligees that left little to the imagination.
Dressed in full formal attire fit for an evening out, Sir Kranst rounded the corner with several servant ladies on his heels. The bruises I’d expected to see on his face were absent, likely covered over with a veil of makeup. Or, I realized when I caught a flicker from the corner of my eye, more likely an illegal digital facial overlay.
Digital overlays, such as elaborate walls coverings and fireplaces, were quite common in many households – particularly ones on spaceships and spaceports, as the danger of fire was always a genuine concern. But digitized facial imagery had long been outlawed after far too many innocents had been accused of heinous crimes and met their end at the hands of justice officials, only to discover they’d been set up by unscrupulous criminals.
Sir Kranst wearing one, in blatant disregard of the law, only confirmed my earlier suspicions. He had connections around here high enough to protect him.
“Welcome, welcome.” He bent to kiss my hand with a flourish, another flicker at the contact confirming the presence of the overlay. “We are honored to have you in our house, aren’t we ladies?”
The eyes of the poised prostitutes widened with their grins as heads bobbed in unison. However, several derisive snorts peppered the rear of the room.
“I’m honored to be here,” I lied.
“Refreshments?” The servants stepped forward with burgeoning trays, offering more delicacies and rich-looking wine than anything Trina had available at her gathering the other night.
“Perhaps later,” I deferred as concerned glances passed between the servants then to their employer, who simply waved them away. “If you don’t mind, Sir Kranst, I’d prefer to get started. I have an early evening booked.”
“Of course, of course. Girls?” He offered up a jutted chin and raised brows that made several grow rigid with obvious discomfort. “I present to you Mistress Dahlia of the Royal Courtesan Court.”
Pockets of respectful clapping followed as I dipped my chin in acknowledgement before Sir Kranst continued. “We won’t have but the next few days. I’m spending a lot of credits and expect each of you to listen carefully and do exactly what she says.” A huff came from the far corner of the room. His brow furrowed as his head jerked in that direction. “Without question.”
I stared out over the room with my most pleasant courtesan expression, noting the eager and those who might present a problem. Though I was used to mingling among large crowds, I hadn’t expected to directly address so many. The dress hid my knocking knees but my voice came through clearly.
“Respect is a primary component within the Courtesan Court. Respect for the sanctity of our position. Respect for our fellow courtesan. Most of all, respect for oneself. For without respect of self, neither of the other two are possible.”
Sir Kranst approached one of the blond servants who’d remained behind and leaned over to whisper in her ear. The slight touch of her fingertips against his arm bespoke an affection I understood all-too-well. Apparently he didn’t limit his proclivities to his those who regularly worked the beds. Or perhaps he just found new jobs for the ones he wanted to keep around when they no longer attracted enough customers to perform the old one.
Though this blond didn’t appear much older than several of the ladies along the far wall – which explained more than words could of his use of the younger children. My fears of their use for reasons other than blackmail grew.
“So on that note,” I continued, focusing on the manageable problem sitting before me, “those of you who’ve just crawled from your beds in your nightclothes, please return to yo
ur rooms to groom and dress yourselves more appropriately before returning for today’s lessons.”
Mumbles and grumbles rose across the room. Those already dressed adequately smiled in self-satisfaction. Though he’d only just disappeared around the corner, Sir Kranst quickly filled the doorway again. For just a moment, I wondered if he’d adhere to his own command and follow my lead without question.
A barely clad young woman launched up from a chair in the far corner, her red curls tumbling down to her waist. “What is this shit?”
“Avn,” Kranst barked. “Do as she says. All of you who didn’t dress for the occasion…upstairs.” When they didn’t move immediately, his tone threatened to do more than crack a few icy windows. “Now!”
That lit a fire under them, leaving me with ten or so girls. “Thank you, Sir Kranst. I will take it from here.”
Hard obsidian eyes turned on me before they softened, and he nodded once in deference. “If you have any further problems, send for me.”
“Of course.”
As soon as he left the room again, I took a deep breath and smiled at the remainder of my class attendees.
“So…do you have any questions for me while we wait for the others?”
Every hand in the room launched toward the ceiling. I chose the closest one, a young lady who couldn’t be more than twenty. Her chestnut hair hung loose and draped over one shoulder in a carefully brushed fall.
A shy grin stretched her cheeks before her gaze dropped to the thickly carpeted floor. A quick glance up at the ones nearest her before she voiced her question.
“Have you ever fucked the king?”
My jaw came slightly unhinged in shock. Before I could even respond, the floodgates opened and the rest of the girls peppered me with their myriad questions.
“Is it true that royalty have enormous cocks?”
“Do the nobles ever ask for threesomes?”
“Does your pussy ever get sore?”
“How’s the prince hung?”
“Does his cum taste different than regular folk?”
It took everything in me not to sigh out loud as the crude questions continued unabated.
Maybe I should’ve brought Jace with me after all.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Once everyone else trickled back into the room, the hours progressed rather well. I spoke to the girls about personal comportment, the importance of cleanliness, and purposes behind satisfying the client. All from the courtesan’s point of view, of course.
More odd questions were occasionally sprinkled into the mix, but I deftly sidestepped those as I had the earlier ones. It didn’t take long to determine that the redhead was the group’s troublemaker.
“When are you going to use your dolls there for a fuck demonstration?” Avn asked of the two guards still standing tirelessly in the archway.
Even with the unexpected queries, the day finished off well with practice of the courtesan’s walk. Some of the girls continued to rehearse what at first had appeared to be a simple and effortless glide across the floor – until they realized how difficult effortless really was.
I left them to it with continued encouragement when Sir Kranst returned to escort me along the long, front hallway to a more intimate sitting room to share some light refreshment. The faded green paint reminded me of a paler tone of Jace’s emerald eyes.
I sipped the lukewarm tea carefully, disturbed by thoughts of my mech tech that refused to vacate my mind as I inspected the walls more closely.
There was nothing in the dull color that should’ve triggered such thoughts. Maybe I simply missed the comfort of Jace’s reassuring presence instead of the guards I didn’t know. Yes, that had to be the issue.
Something in my manner as I set the cup into the saucer caught Sir Kranst’s attention.
“I apologize for the tea.” His lip curled in disgust as he gulped it down in one swallow then rattled the cup and saucer with little care when he smacked them down on the low table. “It’s difficult to keep the water hot for long in this drafty old place.”
“I have found your beautiful home to be warm and inviting,” I offered before prodding further. “Unless, of course, this is only your place of business.”
Whether it was his business or personal residence didn’t really matter. I just needed to know all of the possibilities where he might keep the children assigned to his care.
He relaxed into the settee and rested an arm along the back. “My personal quarters are in the south wing.”
If he brought me alone in here, expecting more than the simple exchange of credits, I’d have to dig deep from the courtesan well in order not to do something rash. I remembered again the real purpose for my being here.
“All three floors?” The question came out a bit pinched.
“Of course.”
“That’s quite a lot of space for one person.” I took a careful sip of tea and watched over the lip to carefully gauge his reaction to my next question. “Is it safe to assume your ward lives here with you as well?”
Eyes tightened at the edges, and his mouth thinned just a hint. “Oh…oh yes. I’d forgotten that you met…her.”
He was entirely too careful not to use a proper name. If he had several young girls, I doubt he remembered which one I’d met either. “Well, we haven’t officially met, but I’d love the chance to do so in…shall we say…less trying circumstances.”
He waved his hand through the air in dismissal just as he had the servants earlier. It likely came second nature to him to treat most women in such a way – especially those he saw as beneath him. “Perhaps another time.”
“Still, three floors for two people,” I mused, returning to our previous track. “No wonder she gets lost so easily. It’s a wonder you can keep track of her at all with so much space to traverse.” So how did he, I wondered? “And I can’t even imagine the credits it must cost you to keep it so comfortable in Lyandra’s inhospitable environs.”
“Credits are no object for a man like me.” His arm slid along the back of the settee to rest behind my carefully coifed head. “I have many wealthy acquaintances from across the galaxy who stay with me from time to time when I entertain. Some go even up to royalty…just like you.”
His meaning wasn’t lost on me, considering I knew more about his entertainments than he realized. But I fought against the shock that he might know more about my situation too. Though it was common knowledge that courtesans served the royal family, I had the distinct impression he was speaking in greater and more specific detail. Intimate detail.
My connection to Irik.
Was it possible – all the way out here on the Rim – that I sat next to an important player in the plot against the royal family? Sir Kranst obviously had the means to obtain the best goods that not even top government officials could access through conventional, aboveboard channels. And he most certainly was a man of unscrupulous character.
Was it possible Jace wasn’t just a random mark the night he was arrested? The very first night of our arrival? Trina even mentioned Sir Kranst had rather twisted her arm in order to secure an invitation to her soirée. She’d said he’d even wanted to specifically meet me. Was teaching his girls merely a ruse to try and glean something from me about my prince?
Niggling suspicions began to worm through my mind. Like pieces on a chessboard, players were being moved about the galaxy. A royal visit to a far-away starport. A history lesson from a dying government official. A long-empty ambassadorial post filled. And a titled businessman far from the heart of court.
But for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it all meant or how the pieces were supposed to be laid out.
All I knew for certain was that the cost of this association with Sir Kranst grew too great. Too dangerous. I wanted nothing more than to flee into the safety of Jace’s arms and get off of this icy hellhole before something happened. But for the sake of the children – not to mention the Empire – I had to see this through in th
e only way I knew how.
Dodge the implications by diverting the conversation. “Do you have other entertainments outside of your standard business practice?”
A momentary glint in those dark eyes before he covered his disappointment that I hadn’t taken his dangled bait. I was happy to let him think I was simpleminded enough not to understand any insinuations he’d tried to toss my way.
“Out here, we must have plenty of diversions to get through each day.” With the press of a cufflink on his sleeve, a virtual cigar materialized in his hand. He took a puff on it before offering me a self-satisfied smile. “All the enjoyment of the real thing without the health risks.” He blew out several smoke circles before releasing the rest in a thin stream. “A smart businessman believes in diversification of his assets.”
Even if those assets were flesh and blood. I kept my face animated instead of contemplative. “I’ve never seen this before.” A hint of tobacco scent in the air brought forward an old memory that I quickly locked down. “Where did you find it?”
“An inventor on Crente.” He took another puff before touching the other cufflink. The cigar blinked out of existence. “I bought the rights from him for a song and have been working with one of my associates to put it into production for those of a more refined taste.”
Bought or stole? Or worse? I wouldn’t put anything past him – particularly if he had associations on a lawless planet like Crente, where children were ripped from their family’s bosom. I realized that Rylan might just have been one of the lucky ones. She could’ve just as easily been captured and turned over to the highest bidder like her sister.
Oh yes. Sir Kranst had a myriad connections alright. How else could even his foodstuffs rival anything I’d seen outside Port Flint?
