As soon as Aurora stepped out of the Duke's chamber, a smirk curved on her lips. That had been easier than she anticipated. She had waited a long time—thirteen years to be exact, for this—an opportunity to be in the same room as the king, not to win his favor or to be wooed, but to end him. It was laughable, perhaps, the idea of a courtesan taking on a king, but even a rat could strike down a snake with the right motivation.
The king had ended countless lives simply because he could. But when he'd set his sights on her family, he'd made a grave mistake.
The carriage ride back to the brothel was quiet, granting her a brief, welcome moment of solitude.
The carriage stopped in front of a tall, worn four-story building, the brothel she had called home for years. Its faded walls held stories of countless lives.
She stepped inside the bustling, dimly lit main hall, where men of all kinds drank, laughed, and sought company among the women who mingled around them.
In the midst of the crowd, she spotted her friend, Emma, her only true confidante in this place. But before Aurora could reach her, a drunken nobleman staggered into her path, his eyes lighting up with recognition.
"If it isn't Stonecold's most famous courtesan," he slurred with a grin.
Aurora arched an eyebrow, offering him a polite but mocking smile.
"You've a keen eye, even through all that ale, milord. I'm impressed."
He puffed up, beaming as though he'd been complimented by royalty.
"So, will you spend the night with me then?" he blurted, casting a dismissive glance at the woman beside him, who looked on with obvious irritation.
Aurora raised an eyebrow, her voice crisp. "Can you afford me?"
The man's face turned red, caught off guard by the challenge.
"What's your price? I'll pay it!" he boasted, slurring as he stumbled back a step.
"Twenty gold coins," came a voice from behind. Madam Justitia, the brothel's shrewd matron, had materialized at Aurora's shoulder, a sly smile on her lips.
The price sent a murmur through the room, and the man's eyes went wide.
"Twenty?" He scoffed loudly, though he quickly straightened himself.
"I'll pay it!"
The other women eyed Aurora with envy, except for Emma, who looked on with thinly veiled worry. Madam Justitia, however, looked pleased; she'd take her cut and make a tidy profit tonight.
"What are you waiting for? Take him up the stairs!" She cast a dismissive glance at her.With a resigned sigh, Aurora led the man up the stairs, disappearing into the shadows as she stepped into the room set aside for her.
Inside, she moved with practiced ease, slipping out of her dress, and now stood in her petticoat.
Preparing herself for another night, even as her mind remained fixed on tomorrow's plans.As the man stepped into the room, Aurora turned the lock with a quiet click, ensuring their privacy.
He was decent-looking, if a bit taller than her, with a slight wariness that didn't match his drunken entrance downstairs. Here in the brothel, they didn't judge their patrons, no matter their looks, wealth, or character; they only exchanged service for payment.
At first glance, the man looked like someone of modest means, but the twenty gold coins he had dropped to secure her company suggested otherwise.
Aurora approached him, her fingers tracing up to the collar of his shirt as she slipped it off his shoulders, watching his eyes darken with focus.
But as she reached for his belt, his hand came down over hers, stopping her.
"Are you shy?" she asked, voice low and soothing.
"First time here? Don't worry."
He kept his grip on her hand, his eyes steady and clear.
"I'm not here for that," he said, his tone strikingly firm, a far cry from his slurred bravado earlier. Aurora's gaze narrowed, the edge of her smirk fading.
"Not here for that?" she repeated, her voice cooling. "Then take your money and go, because that's the only business we do here."
The man exhaled, glancing around before walking to the edge of the bed and reclining back, looking more composed than before.
"I want you to lie here with me," he said, "but I don't want anything else. Just your company. Tell me about yourself—your likes and dislikes. What do you really want?"
Aurora was no stranger to strange requests, but this was a new one. He'd paid her a fortune and now wanted… conversation? His loss, she thought with a wry smile, if he was paying so much for so little.
Besides, by tomorrow night, none of this would matter; she'd be in a cell for killing the king.
Sighing, she lay down beside him. He pulled her close, his arm around her, his breath calm and even. There was something oddly peaceful about it, though she stayed quiet.
After a while, he broke the silence.
"Tell me," he murmured,
"what do you love most?"
Without hesitation, she replied, "Money."
The man raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.
"Not family?"
"Oh, I love my family," she replied.
"But if I had to choose, it would be money."
He studied her, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze, before a slow smile crossed his lips.
"Interesting," he murmured.
"Do you think I'm strange?" he asked.
"Creepy, even," she replied, and he let out a short laugh.
"You'll understand soon enough," he said simply.
Aurora nodded, but her mind was already tangled in its own web of troubling thoughts.
They continued talking, her answering his curious questions with simple, straightforward answers, her walls firmly in place.
After a few hours, they both fell silent and drifted into sleep, side by side on the bed, Aurora already turning over her thoughts about what lay ahead.
By midnight, he had left the brothel, and Aurora sat by the fire with Emma, their faces lit by the flickering flames.
"I won't lie," Aurora began, her gaze distant. "I've never felt so…." She recounted the strange encounter with the man—she didn't even know his name. He'd left without touching her yet paid the full twenty gold coins.
"In love?" Emma teased, grinning.
Aurora shot her a glare. "I'm just joking."
Emma laughed, then turned back to the fire, the flames reflecting in her hazel eyes. There was silence between them.
"All right, all right. But… Do you think he likes you? That has to be the only reason he'd act like that. Or…"
"He wants something from me," Aurora interrupted.
Emma nodded vigorously. "Like what?"
Aurora's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "My heart."
Emma blinked, confused.
"Huh?"
Aurora sighed, disappointed. "Think about it. Any man with money can have my body, right?"
Emma nodded slowly.
"But this man," Aurora continued, "he wants something more—something he can't buy. My heart. He wants me to love him, or at least to think of him in some way that's more than just business."
"Ohhh," Emma said, realization dawning. "So you think he likes you, and he wants you to like him back?"
Aurora shrugged with a half-smile.
"I suppose that's what he's after. But really, who cares for a courtesan beyond the obvious? I know there are a few strange men out there, but it's… unsettling, even for me."
Emma shook her head, laughing softly. "What's wrong with being a courtesan? They're as guilty as we are for paying us for what they want. And yet we're the only ones looked down on."
Aurora's head tilted, thoughtfully looking at her, "What?" Emma asked, her eyes dilated. "That is quite ironic coming from you," Aurora said with a small laugh. Emma didn't say anything, and just sighed. "I mean it though," she whispered to herself, just in time as Aurora yawned.
After a pause, she stood, stretching her back after sitting so long in the warmth of the fire. This was the small room she and Emma shared, the fire their only comfort on cold nights.
"Heading to bed?" Emma asked, watching her friend's weary movements.
"Yes," Aurora replied with a small smile. "Tomorrow is a big day."
Emma's face clouded with concern. "Do you want me to come with you?" she asked, a nervous edge in her voice.
Aurora shook her head firmly. "No, absolutely not. Besides, Madam Justitia would never allow you."
"This is my burden to carry alone, Emma. You still have a future ahead of you." Aurora reached into her pocket.
"Look, I've been saving every coin I could for you. With those gold coins, you could leave this place." She dropped them into the small drawer beside the small bed they share.
Emma gave her a sad smile and lay down on the cold floor from where she was still in front of the fire.
She whispered softly, almost to herself,
"Do you really have to do this?"
Aurora said nothing, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, lost in thought.
From the day Emma had arrived at the brothel, Aurora had taken her under her wing. Emma had been sold by her own father, traded like a piece of property for money.
The betrayal had crushed her, leaving her teetering between despair and the fear of giving up completely.
Unlike Emma, Aurora had come to the brothel by choice, as a last resort for survival. Women who entered willingly were allowed to keep a portion of their earnings, but those who'd been sold, like Emma, were trapped, working without a coin to their name.
Over the years, Aurora had protected Emma however she could, often taking on her clients, knowing they would never refuse her. There was something unspoken between them, a bond that ran deep, compelling Aurora to guard her.
Aurora had chosen this life; Emma hadn't. And for everything Aurora had done, Emma felt a surge of gratitude, even though it made her feel selfish.
She knew she'd rather stay here with Aurora than go back to the brutal world she'd come from.
Now, as they lay side by side on the narrow bed, Emma watched Aurora's fierce, determined expression, a look of resolve that hinted she was ready to take down anyone in her path—even the king himself. Emma held back her tears, eventually drifting off to sleep beside her protector.
The next morning, with Madame's permission, Aurora made her way to the Duke's mansion under the pretense of fulfilling his desires.
The Duke was too important to visit the brothel himself, so he'd only had to send word, and Aurora would arrive at his doorstep. He never disappointed in his payment, after all.
But when she arrived, the butler informed her that the Duke had left early for the King's palace. He had promised to take her to the King's ball, but, as she'd suspected, he'd gone without her. The Duke was never one to keep his word.
"I think I left my earring here last time," she said smoothly. "Might I look for it?"
The butler nodded, allowing her in.
Aurora made her way to the room where she'd entertained the Duke just a day before. She knelt by the blue velvet couch and reached underneath, feeling her fingers close around what she'd hidden there earlier—the invitation envelope she'd quietly lifted from the Duke's pocket.
With a small smile, she slipped it into her sleeve, then took an earring from her pocket, a prop she'd brought for this very moment.
"Found it," she said cheerfully, flashing the earring as she left. The butler merely nodded, his expression stony; she knew he found her presence distasteful.
She chuckled to herself as she walked out. The Duke's reluctance to be seen with a courtesan wasn't unusual—noblemen entertained courtesans but rarely in public, let alone in the bonds of marriage, which was both taboo and technically forbidden.
Outside, Aurora hailed a public carriage bound for the palace. As luck would have it, she wasn't the only commoner making her way to the ball; the Duke had spared no expense, and guests from all across the kingdom had been invited.
Only a few would have the privilege of actually entering, but Aurora intended to make sure she was one of them. Word also had it that the king was hosting the event to find a bride, he surely wouldn't live long enough to get married to one.
Rumors about his appearance were wild and varied—some said he was fat and ugly, others insisted he was tall, handsome, and fit, while still others claimed he was utterly unremarkable. But Aurora knew the truth. She would recognize him in an instant; he was the man she'd been waiting for all her life.
Because by the time she is leaving these walls, there would be no groom left to wed.
Hello guys, did you like the chapter. If you did enjoy the first chapter, please leave a comment, and reviews. Thank you.