A wind blew in from the east: gently rolling off snowcapped mountains; picking up speed as it rushed through the lowlands; passing over rivers and forests; until finally, it cascaded against the walls of a sprawling city. The city was known as Maze. The wind gusted through the city into a gilded window, rustling the clothes of a sleeping boy as the first rays of light peeked into the room.
The faint morning light crept through the narrow opening of the window in Vince's small attic room, illuminating the well-worn wooden floor and casting soft shadows over the simple furnishings he called his own. Those first rays of dawn stirred him awake; and for a moment, he lay in bed, not really wanting to get up so early. He liked this time of morning; when The House of Pearl was silent. The only sounds were the muted murmurs of Maze waking up beyond the building's walls.Â
Vince's room was modest with a narrow bed, sturdy wardrobe, and wooden shelf: that held a scattering of worn books, small trinkets, and mementos he'd collected over the years. He ran his fingers through his hair, a giant tangle from the night's rest. Vince glanced in the mirror beside his wardrobe to see his own familiar face starting back: brown hair, a fair complexion, and cold blue eyes. Lira had one told him his eyes were as piercing as a winter sea.
Rising, Vince pulled on his clothes, a plain shirt and trousers. He proceeded to comb his unruly hair with a gem crested comb he had borrowed from one of the house girls a few months back; he had planned to return it, but it had been so useful, and he hadn't really gotten the chance. He smoothed out his wrinkled tunic and took one last look around the room before heading downstairs. As always, he was one of the first to wake, in those quiet moments, he sometimes wondered how different his life may have been if Lira hadn't found him on that cold winter night sixteen years ago. She'd never told him the whole story: only that she heard a faint cry by the entrance to the brothel and there she found him, swaddled and alone in the cold.
As he descended the staircase to the main floor, the faint smell of freshly baked bread and herbs filled the air; Vince felt a swell of comfort. The House of Pearl was a place of beauty and luxury; but for him, it was something deeper - a sanctuary, a home. He was surrounded by people he trusted; and in his heart, he felt a place of belonging.
The kitchen was bustling with warmth and life as Vince entered and was met with the familiar sight of Jessa, the house's head cook. She was a sturdy woman in her mid-fifties with salt-and-pepper hair tied back in a tight bun and thick hands calloused from years of hard work. Jessa was as much a fixture of the House as the lustrous chandeliers in the lounge or the velvet drapes in the guest rooms; and to Vince, she was family.
"Good morning, Jessa," he greeted, giving her a small smile as he took in the organized chaos that was the kitchen at this time of the morning.
"Morning, Vince," she replied without looking up, her hands busy kneading a large ball of dough. Her movements were strong, efficient, and precise; as though she were performing a well-practiced dance. "You're right on time. We've got a larger-than-usual batch of deliveries today, and I could use the help. Lira's pulling out all the stops for tonight.'"
Vince moved to the stack of crates by the door, grabbing a box filled with freshly picked vegetables. "Lira mentioned something about important guests"
Jessa grunted, nodding as she continued her work, gently blowing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "One of those Eastern Quarter types, from what I hear. Big time merchant, or something along those lines." She gave him a sidelong glance, her stern face softened by a hint of warmth, "Means extra care on your end too, young one. All the details count."
"Gotcha," Vince said, smiling as he began sorting the vegetables on the counter for her.
They worked together in silence for a while, Jessa's cooking and baking filled the kitchen with the rich smell of bread and the aroma of spices. As Vince organized the produce, he caught snippets of conversations drifting in from the hall; voices of the staff and occasional laughter from Mira, whose presence seemed to light up any room she entered.
After a moment, Jessa broke the silence, her tone slightly lower, "Have you heard about Rorik's Gang?"
Vince paused, looking over at her, surprised by the sudden shift in topic. " I heard Gallen muttering the other day about him, but I didn't think they'd be interested in us."
Jessa let out a sigh, rolling her shoulders as if shaking off a heavy weight. "There are whispers that they've been pushing their way into all manner of places as of late. Lira's got connections and that means the House is a prime target. People like Rorik don't like sharing power." She gave him a hard look, "If you're smart Vince, you'll be careful around anyone you don't recognize. Don't want you getting hurt, lad."
Vince nodded, feeling a flicker of apprehension. He knew the House of Pearl was more than just a place of beauty; it had its own inner workings. He'd known that powerful people came here for more than just wine and company. If Rorik's gang were truly targeting them, it could mean serious trouble.
"I'll keep an eye out." He promised, lifting another crate and setting it down beside her. Jessa nodded approvingly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"You're a good lad, Vince." she said softly, "This place wouldn't be the same without you."
After finishing the morning's work in the kitchen, Vince made his way to the main lounge to prepare for the evening. The lounge was the heart of the house; its grand design and luxurious decor, once filled with the singing and dancing of beautiful women, created an atmosphere that would attract guests from all over the city. Soft golden light streamed through the tall, arched windows, casting warm shadows over plush armchairs, polished tables, and velvet-lined walls adorned with tapestries.
Vince loved the lounge; Its elegance always dazzled him. Moving from table to table; he adjusted cushions, polished glasses, and straightened the intricate floral arrangements. They added a soft, inviting fragrance to the room: most were enchanted so they would never whither. He worked methodically, knowing that each detail contributed to the House's reputation.
He was arranging a vase of lilies when he heard the familiar light footsteps of Mira. He looked up, meeting her gaze as she leaned against the doorway, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
"Look at you, busy as ever." she stated, folding her arms across her ample bosom and studying him with amused eyes. Mira was dressed in a flowing burgundy dress that complimented her warm brown skin; her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves. Mira's presence lit up the room, and Vince had always admired her grace and ease.
"Just making sure everything's perfect," Vince replied, returning her smile. "Lira will give me hell if I don't" He winked.
Mira laughed softly, stepping into the room and joining him as he worked, "She always does." she agreed, her gaze sweeping over the lounge. "But tonight feels. . . different. Have you heard about the guest she's expecting?"
Vince shook his head, "Jessa mentioned someone from the Eastern Quarter, A rich merchant of some sort?"
"Something like that." Mira replied, her tone thoughtful, "but he's not just any merchant. I heard he has connections in the Eastern Guild. Maybe even the central continent's Merchant's Guild. People like him don't just come for wine. . . They come for influence."
They continued working together, Mira helping him set out the linens and adjusting the flower arrangements. She moved with a practiced elegance, her gestures smooth and precise. Vince watched her, impressed by the way she seemed to command the space around her, even in small movements.
Vince let out a soft chuckle feeling warmth in her words. "I've had good teachers," He replied, glancing around the room. "Have to pay rent, you know."
Mira's smile faded slightly, her gaze turning thoughtful, "Maze has turned more dangerous as of late, Vince. The people who come to the house. . . they're not always what they seem."
They worked in silence after that, the weight of Mira's words lingering in the air. Vince had always felt a pull towards understanding the world within the House's wall, but he knew Mira was right. He needed to be careful.Â