The Gilded Lily

The Gilded Lily was filled with drunk men calling for more wine, and ladies hanging over their shoulders and leading them into private rooms.

Amias worked the aisle, scrubbing the floors with a rag and a bucket of water. She had been placed among those working on the upper floor.

Her eyes were vigilant, flicking into rooms and searching for Lord Vaelor before each door was closed shut.

"Move aside, you wench!" a harlot snapped, kicking Amias's dirty water aside as she fought with another. "I was here first!"

"Madam Yara chose me to serve the Lord," the other harlot argued.

"Enough, you two!" Madam Yara reached the end of the corridor, her chest rising as she looked between them. "Neither of you shall serve him."

A loud bang sounded as a door slammed shut and a maiden rushed out to Madam Yara.

"What does he want?" Madam Yara demanded.

"He refused the ladies you brought for him. He claims none of them are what he wants," the maiden replied.

"What then does he want? These were our newest arrivals. I had bought and brought them for him." Madam Yara looked back at the ladies behind her.

The two women immediately pushed forward, each trying to draw her attention before the other.

Madam Yara looked away in annoyance. "Rush to the lower rooms, get me..." She paused, her eyes narrowing at Amias, whose ears were up as she continued cleaning.

She walked toward her until Amias could see the woman's legs beneath her dress and finally raised her head.

"Never seen your face here before. Who brought you?" she asked.

"You," Amias said boldly.

"Don't recall," she muttered.

The maiden who had run out of Vaelor's room came close and whispered into her ear. It wasn't too low.

"She came along with the other slave girls you bought from the Ravenmoor territory. A Ravenmoor." The maiden reminded her.

Ravenmoor?

Amias recalled Caelum mentioning earlier that the territory had been burnt. They had sold the women?

"Then she must be an orphan, still scarred from the fire," Madam Yara sounded almost sympathetic. "Get up. I want to take a closer look at you."

Without hesitating, Amias did as she was instructed.

Madam Yara circled around her. Amias jolted as she smacked her ass, squeezing tighter, "The perfect weight, soft and supple."

Amias remained perfectly still as Madam Yara got to her front, slid her hand to feel her chest.

"Small," She took out her hand. "But could work."

She took a step back to finally look at Amias, "Where has this face been?"

She held Amias's face, examining every inch and was satisfied.

"For a servant, you have good skin. I would expect you to be rougher," she noticed. "You shall serve Lord Vaelor tonight, if he picks you."

Amias's face drained of color immediately, but she forced herself not to step back. Her fingers curled into tight fists at her sides.

"Keep him company and do exactly what he asks of you. I will give you a chance to say no." She fanned herself leisurely, watching Amias as though waiting for her answer.

Amias wanted to refuse. The Dowager had told her not to show her face to the Beast, only to listen. How then could she find the truth if she wasn't in the room?

And the Ravenmoor girls? What exactly did he do with them?

"I'll do it."

"Prepare for your life to change, and if you get lucky and make me proud, you may never have to scrub another floor again."

__

The room smelled of cigar smoke, mingled with the rich, aromatic perfume oozing from the incense burners. The candles cast a dim, hazy glow, their light struggling against the thick fog that filled the room. Amias could barely make out the figure they called the Beast.

"Send them all away. I'm not interested in any company." His voice was deep and gravelly, the words carrying a sharp note of dismissal.

"I heard you weren't pleased with our previous ladies, but this one I have brought will surely satisfy you," Madam Yara assured him.

"You said the same about the others. Are you mocking me?" He asked coldly.

"Absolutely not."

"Come to the light. I want to see your face." He ordered.

Madam Yara pushed Amias forward. She stepped into the dim light, one hand clutching her veil tightly against her face, careful to keep her features hidden.

Vaelor was visibly displeased, his voice low and stern as he warned, "Don't treat women like objects in front of me. Understood?"

Madam Yara stiffened and lowered her head. "Apologies. It won't happen again."

"Leave us," he ordered.

As the door was shut behind her, Vaelor settled into the large armchair. He finally gave Amias a proper look, studying her from head to toe.

"Are you just going to stand there, or would you like to sit?"

Amias hadn't done this before. She'd seen his royal concubines try to win his attention, but he had never allowed them near him. She quickly moved to sit beside him.

"Are you making room for yourself?" Vaelor eyed the space between them, his brow lifting.

Amias shifted closer at his request.

"That is still too far," he remarked.

Amias stopped when their knees touched, and she looked up at him.

She saw him for what he was.

Not a beast. Beasts did not usually walk around in their true forms. They could shapeshift whenever they chose, taking whatever appearance suited them.

His eyes were still human, a deep, unnatural hazel that hadn't slipped yet. She had been told they turned red when they were in their forms and got ravenous.

Right now, Vaelor was far more human than she had expected. He could almost be mistaken for a Holtian if not for those unnatural eyes.

He let out a sigh. "Seems like you are studying me rather than doing what you were brought here to do."

"Sorry. Wine?" She swallowed, already reaching for the glass and pouring wine from the bottle.

When she was done, she lifted his glass and offered it to him. He smiled, but it wasn't warm.

"Drink it for me," he said.

Amias nodded once and did as he asked.

Vaelor watched her carefully. "Another one," he requested, his eyes fixed on the wine bottle.

Amias poured another glass. She could feel his gaze following her every movement.

"Should I also drink this for you?" she asked, her soft voice making him pause.

"For me."

She drank it again.

Vaelor wasn't thirst, he was only watching her.

"Another one?"

Vaelor shook his head, his eyes narrowing. He pushed himself off the armchair and stepped closer.

He noticed the tension in her posture and the nervousness she was trying so hard to conceal. A small smirk touched his lips.

He pushed a loose strand of her hair aside. His fingers caught against something that didn't feel quite right.

He paused.

Then he leaned closer and whispered,

"I know a rat when I see one."