The girls were led in a weary line up the twisting stairs to the fifth floor, the level just beneath Lady Violet's quarters. Their steps were heavy, and the silence among them felt thick as they tried to grasp the full weight of their new circumstances. When they finally reached their assigned quarters, Darla looked around, taking in the modest yet structured setup. The room resembled a boarding house, rows of bunk beds stacked against the walls with narrow side tables between them.
The dim lighting cast long shadows, giving the room an austere feel. In one corner, a large vanity mirror gleamed, surrounded by various jars and brushes for grooming—a silent promise of the expectations Lady Violet had for their appearance. Though there was nothing ornate or extravagant here, everything served its purpose, from the sparse bedding to the shared wardrobes where they were expected to store their belongings. In her previous life, Darla had owned far more luxurious spaces, but here, these minimal amenities spoke volumes about their function in this new life.
As they began to settle in, the female attendants brought around bundles containing essentials: coarse cotton dresses, small bars of soap, a single comb each, and washcloths. Darla watched as the girls silently accepted their parcels, some clutching their belongings to their chests as if they offered some semblance of stability in this strange place. It was already late, the sky outside dark, and exhaustion weighed on each of them.
Once everyone had unpacked what little they had, the attendants ushered them out again, this time taking them down one floor to the west wing. They arrived at a large room filled with rows of wooden tables and benches, a cafeteria where the girls would eat. Despite the brothel's outer appearance, the interior was vast, a sprawling labyrinth designed to serve not only the clientele but the large number of staff as well. Darla had already sensed that this place was much bigger than it appeared from the outside, as though it had been designed to trick the unobservant.
The girls were instructed to queue up for food, and Darla joined the line with the others, her face set in its usual mask of calm. When she finally reached the servers, she received a tin plate with mashed potatoes, a thin bean sauce, a few bites of meat, and some steamed vegetables. The portions were meager but enough to quiet their hunger, at least for the night.
Darla took a seat with five other girls at a small table in the corner, her sharp green eyes scanning her surroundings as she ate. The cafeteria was filled with tables like theirs, each crowded with girls who wore the same blank expressions of worry and fear. She glanced at the girls seated with her, noting the varied shades of tension in their faces, their wide eyes and slumped shoulders. One of the girls, a timid-looking brunette, trembled as she held her fork, while another seemed to pick at her food absently, as though lost in thought.
As they ate, Darla's mind drifted to the girl she'd spoken with briefly that first day. Her absence now weighed on her—a reminder of the auctions and of the grim realities each girl here faced. That girl had been sold to a household, a fate that might have seemed preferable at the time, though Darla suspected that in this world, one could never assume safety or freedom. For the rest of the girls, however, their fates remained tied to this shadowed establishment.
Darla noticed that a strange sense of unease lingered among the girls even after they had finished their meal. Some girls glanced around nervously, as if expecting an unknown threat to appear at any moment. In her observations, Darla noted something odd about the guards and attendants around the room. Their skin was unusually pale, almost otherworldly, and their eyes held an eerie glint. She brushed off the thought for now, assuming it might just be the dim lighting playing tricks on her, though something deep within her warned that there was more to this place than met the eye.
When they finished eating, they were ushered back up the winding staircases to their quarters on the fifth floor. Darla felt a peculiar sense of relief returning to the relative solitude of the bunk room. The other girls shuffled in silence, each lost in her own thoughts. Some had already given up trying to understand their predicament, while others exchanged nervous glances, a shared language of fear.
The bunk beds were stacked in threes, and Darla settled on a lower bunk, feeling the rough material of the mattress beneath her as she lay down. The room was shared by six girls in total, and they moved in near silence, preparing for sleep. Darla kept her head low, careful to keep her veil close, covering her features and hiding her true appearance. She knew that soon, likely tomorrow, she would be forced to reveal herself to Lady Violet, to present herself as a potential asset to this brothel's operations. She intended to remain inconspicuous as long as possible, but she knew she couldn't hide forever.
Darla closed her eyes, her mind drifting back to her old life, to memories of days spent navigating the complexities of business, forging alliances, and outmaneuvering enemies. There, she had held control; here, she felt like a pawn on a vast, mysterious board. Sleep eventually claimed her, dragging her into a deep, dreamless rest.
***
The next morning, Darla was the first to wake, her instincts from her old life urging her to rise early. The room was silent, filled with the soft breathing of the other girls still lost in slumber. She sat on her bunk, gathering her thoughts and steeling herself for whatever might come. Her mind raced with questions about this new world and its inhabitants, but without answers, all she could do was observe and prepare.
Just as she began contemplating what the day might bring, a sudden, sharp voice sliced through the quiet.
"Get up, lassies!" a woman's voice barked from the doorway.
Darla jolted slightly, startled by the sound, and saw a stern-looking attendant standing by the door, her face set in a scowl as she clapped her hands to rouse the girls. One by one, they stirred, blinking in confusion as they rubbed the sleep from their eyes and clambered out of their bunks.
"Time to get ready for the day," the attendant announced briskly, her voice lacking any hint of sympathy. "You're expected downstairs soon, and Lady Violet doesn't tolerate tardiness."
Darla quickly rose from her bunk, her mind slipping into survival mode as she moved with purpose. She knew that today would be a test, a chance to observe the workings of this place more closely and perhaps even to glimpse the power structures and dynamics she would need to navigate if she was to survive here.
The girls around her moved in a slow, defeated shuffle, already bearing the weight of this unfamiliar world. Darla, however, took in everything she could, every sound and smell, every hint of movement in the shadows. She would bide her time and play her part for now, but beneath her veil and calm exterior, her mind was already working, calculating every possible path forward.