A wind blew form the east gently rolling off the top of snow capped mountains picking up speed as it rushed through the lowlands passing over rivers and forests until it cascaded into the side of a sprawling city. The city was known as Maze. The wind gusted through the city and into the gilded window shifting the cloths of a sleeping boy as the first rays of light peeked into the room
A faint light crept through the narrow window of Vince's small attic room, illuminating the well-worn wooden floor and casting soft shadows over the simple furnishings he called his own. The first light 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, when the only sounds were the muted murmurs of the city of Maze waking up beyond the buildings walls.
Vince's room was modest, with a narrow bed, a sturdy wardrobe, and a wooden shelf that held a scattering of worn books, small trinkets, and mementos he'd collected over the years. He ran a hand through his brown hair, which was in a giant tangle from the nights rest. He glanced in the small mirror beside his wardrobe and saw his own familiar face staring back: brown hair, and cold blue eyes that Lira once told him were as piercing as a winter sea.
Rising, Vince pulled on his clothes, a plain shirt and trousers, then proceeded to combed his hair with a gem crested comb he had borrowed from one of the house girls a few months back. He meant to give it back but it had been so useful so far he hadn't gotten the chance to return it. He smoothed out his wrinkled tunic and took one last look around his room before heading downstairs. He was always one of the first to wake, and in those quiet moments, he sometimes wondered how different his life might have been if Lira hadn't found him that winter night sixteen years ago. She'd never told him the full story, only that she had heard a faint cry by the entrance of the brothel and 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, and 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 he was met with the familiar sight of Jessa, the House's head cook. She was a sturdy woman in her mid-fifties, her salt-and-pepper hair tied back in a tight bun, her hands thick and calloused from years of work. Jessa was as much a fixture of the House as the chandeliers in the lounge or the velvet drapes in the guest rooms, and to Vince, she was like family.
"Good morning, Jessa," he greeted, giving her a small smile as he took in the organized chaos of the kitchen.
"Morning, Vince," she replied without looking up, her hands busy kneading a large ball of dough. Her movements were strong, efficient, and as precise as if she were performing a 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 blow a lock of hair our of her eyes that slipped down. "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 little details count."
"Gotcha," Vince said, smiling a little as he began sorting the vegetables on the counter for her.
They worked together in silence for a while, Jessa's cooking and baking causing the kitchen to fill with the rich smells of bread and spices. As Vince organized the produce, he caught snippets of conversation drifting in from the hall, voices of staff and occasional laughter from Mira, whose presence seemed to light up any room she was in.
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 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 manor of places as of late. Lira's got connections, and that means the House is seen as 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 innerworkings. He'd known that powerful people, came here for more than just wine and company. And if Rorik's gang was 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 begin preparing for the evening. The lounge was the heart of the House, its grand design and luxurious décor created an atmosphere once filled with the singing and dancing of beautiful women that would attract guests form all over the city. Soft golden light streamed in through the tall, arched windows, casting warm shadows over plush armchairs, polished tables, and the velvet-lined walls adorned with rich 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 that added a soft, inviting fragrance to the room. Most enchanted so they would never wither. He worked methodically, knowing that each detail contributed to the House's reputation.
He was just 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 said, folding her arms across her ample bossism and studying him with amused eyes. Mira was dressed in a flowing burgundy dress that complemented her warm brown skin, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders in soft waves. Her 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."
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 continents Merchant's Guild. People like him don't just come for the wine—they come for influence."
They continued working together, Mira helping him set out the fine linens and adjust 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.
After a moment, Mira glanced at him, a slight smile playing on her lips. "You know, you've grown up well, Vince. When I first met you, you were just a quiet boy hiding behind the curtains. Now look at you—one of the most reliable people in the House."
Vince let out a soft chuckle feeling warmth at her words. "I've had good teachers," he replied, glancing around the room. "Have to pay the rent you know."
Mira's smile faded slightly, her gaze turning thoughtful. "Maze has turned more dangerous as if 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 her words lingering in the air. Vince had always felt a pull toward understanding the world within the House's walls, but he knew Mira was right. He needed to be carful.