Chapter 28 - 26- Brothel

The Pavilion of Wanton Roses was a brothel on the eastern side of the capital, far enough from the palace and the watchful eyes of the court that the nobles could indulge themselves without worrying about the wagging tongues of the empire.

It was where nobles of high birth came when they wanted to fuck the rarest of whores. The rarer the courtesan, the higher the price, and apparently there was no shortage of men willing to pay it.

The place reeked of expensive perfume, alcohol and incense, with the lingering scent of bodies and sweat hanging beneath it all. Women moved through the crowded halls dressed in so little that Darian wasn’t entirely certain the word clothes could be used for what they were wearing. Laughter came from behind closed doors, mixed with music and the occasional drunken shout from one of the patrons.

Darian wanted no part of this place.

Unfortunately, according to the infuriating elf beside him, the head of the establishment knew the routes used by the travelling merchants.

That made this miserable place their best lead.

His eyes moved toward Ryver, who was currently standing in front of Neria and pretending to pull a coin from behind her ear.

The Calypso stared at him with wide-eyed confusion before reaching toward the coin in his fingers.

Darian’s jaw tightened.

He already regretted this.

He regretted bringing the Calypso out of the estate, and he regretted listening to Ryver when the elf had insisted that bringing her along would make things easier.

So far, it had done nothing but make his headache worse.

"You said you knew the head of this establishment." Darian narrowed his eyes at Ryver.

Ryver turned toward him, his scarred left brow lifting slightly. "Patience, Darian. She’s usually busy."

Darian sighed, bringing a hand to his brow as he massaged them together He lowered his hand and glanced toward Neria, who looked almost too small beneath the dark cloak he had given her. She stood quietly beside them, her eyes moving around the room with cautious curiosity as she took in everything around her.

"I am good friends with her," Ryver continued, turning back toward the room as he began walking. "I come here quite often."

"What for?" The question left Darian’s mouth before he could stop himself.

Ryver looked over his shoulder, one brow raised. "It’s a brothel, Darian."

Darian stared at him, quietly regretting asking such a question.

Neria, who had apparently been listening to every word, looked between the two men.

"What are brothels for?" she asked quietly.

Ryver stopped walking.

Darian closed his eyes.

For a moment, neither man said anything. Then Ryver slowly turned around, a grin spreading across his face.

"Oh." He chuckled, "Of course there are no brothels in the sea.."

Darian’s eyes snapped open. "Don’t."

"I haven’t even started yet."

"You were about to."

Ryver chuckled again, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "She’s curious. You should answer her."

Darian gave him a flat look before turning toward Neria. "People come here for... companionship."

Neria tilted her head slightly. "Companionship?"

"Yes." Ryver snorted.

Darian shot him a warning look.

The elf immediately raised both hands in mock surrender, though the amusement never left his face.

Neria seemed to accept the answer for a moment before her brows furrowed again.

"Then why are all those women dressed like that?"

Darian’s jaw tightened.

How was he supposed to explain all this to a Calypso. He was ready for that talk.

Ever.

Wasn’t even sure it was his place.

Neria continued talking, her curiosity getting the best of her. "When I wore a dress like that to the ball, Fiona called it scandalous," she said, repeating the word in the same dramatic tone Darian was certain the maid had used.

Ryver hummed as he took a seat in one of the chairs nearby. "Let’s just say I am not sure the Grand Duke will ever put you in a dress like that again."

Darian shot him a warning glare.

Ryver immediately looked away, though the smirk remained on his face. His reddish-brown hair had fallen across half of his face, but it did little to hide how amused he was by the situation.

Neria, thankfully, had already lost interest in the conversation. Her attention had shifted to a small burner sitting on a nearby table. She leaned closer, cautiously sniffing the smoke curling from it.

Darian watched her for a moment.

He really hoped that was just incense.

Before he could say anything, the large doors at the far end of the room suddenly opened.

Both men turned toward them at the same time.

The door revealed a masculine-looking woman with slightly tanned skin. She wore an off-shoulder blouse exposing her broad shoulders paired with a skirt that had slits running along the sides, revealing her legs as she stepped into the room. Her eyes narrowed slightly when she noticed the three of them.

Her gaze landed on Ryver first.

"Ryver... I was in the middle of something..."

Her voice caught Darian off guard for a moment. It was deep, almost masculine, completely different from the appearance she carried.

Then, before his eyes, her body began to change.

Her shoulders narrowed, her frame softened, and her figure became curvier, taking on a distinctly feminine shape. Her hair spilled down her back, growing longer with every passing second until it framed her face.

Oh.

She was an Adonis.

Rare creatures gifted with the ability to change their sex at will.

The woman turned her attention toward him, a knowing smile slowly forming on her lips.

"Amber eyes of divine blood..." Her gaze lingered over him. "Either you’re the Grand Duke, or the Emperor’s bastard."

She took another step forward, her smile widening. "The latter would be far less shocking than the first."

Darian instinctively took a step back.

Her eyes moved slightly toward Neria, who immediately took a small step back. She frowned when she noticed the woman’s attention settling on her, clearly uncomfortable with the way she was being examined.

"Is she for sale?"

Neria’s eyes immediately widened. "No, I am not!" she snapped, glaring at the woman.

"She’s not for sale" Darius said already stepping beside her.

"Enough with the teasing, Emelie," Ryver said as he walked toward her. "Darian’s Calypso isn’t particularly fond of it."

"She’s a Calypso?" Emelie gasped, her eyes widening slightly as she looked at Neria again. "With legs?"

Darian stepped in front of Neria, blocking her from Emelie’s view. "She’s not the reason we’re here."

Emelie sighed, straightening slightly, though not before giving Neria a quick wink from behind Darian. "Well, what are you here for, then?"

She raised a brow, her gaze shifting between the two men. "His Majesty is most certainly not a trader... Unless the gossip simply hasn’t reached me in time."

Her eyes moved back toward Neria. "Let my girls escort her somewhere to rest while we talk."

Darian hesitated.

Emelie raised a brow, "Unless..."

He wasn’t exactly sold on the idea of letting Neria out of his sight, especially in a place like this. There were too many strangers, too many rooms, and too many things he didn’t know about the establishment. He had already learned that the Calypso was capable of finding trouble wherever she went.

Still, he didn’t want her hearing what their conversation was going to be about.

After a moment, Darian sighed and gave a reluctant nod.

The servants waiting nearby immediately approached Neria and gestured for her to follow them. She looked toward Darian for a moment, as though waiting to see if he would change his mind, before finally allowing them to lead her away.

Darian watched her until she disappeared through the doorway. Only then did he turn his attention back toward Emelie and Ryver.

Emelie folded her arms across her chest, watching the two men with an amused expression as though she already suspected whatever had brought them here was going to be interesting.

"We’re looking for Dhull," Ryver finally said.

Darian’s eyes immediately snapped toward him, his expression darkening at the name.

Ryver noticed the glare but made no effort to take the words back. He simply leaned against the table, looking far too comfortable for someone who had just revealed the very thing Darian had intended to approach carefully.

Emelie’s brows immediately furrowed together.

"Dhull?" She looked between the two men, her expression shifting slightly. "You mean Dhull? The man who sells information and somehow manages to be impossible to find?"

Ryver’s lips tugged into a small smile. "Oh, so you do know him."

"Of course I know Dhull." She scoffed softly. "Anyone who has ever done business in the black market knows of him. Whether they have actually managed to meet him is another matter."

Darian stepped forward, his patience already beginning to wear thin. "Do you know where the black market will be operating next? More specifically, how do I get into the merchants’ circle?"

Emelie watched the impatience in his face for a moment before slowly raising one hand, her palm open.

Darian stared at it.

Her meaning was obvious.

His jaw worked as he pressed his lips into a thin, unimpressed line. He reached inside his coat, pulled out a small pouch of gold crowns, and dropped it into her waiting hand.

Emelie’s fingers closed around it immediately. She peeked inside, and the satisfied little smirk that appeared told him the amount had been enough.

"Head west," she said, slipping the pouch away. "They plan to open near Gali Mountain. If you’re planning to pose as a merchant, I’d suggest finding a better disguise than whatever you’re wearing now."

Her eyes moved over him, taking in his clothes.

"And say you’re from the North. Merchants from there have been making their way through the capital lately, so no one should find it unusual."

Darian nodded. He had already considered that.

"Dhull will be there?" Ryver asked.

Emelie looked at him, then slowly held her palm out again.

Ryver stared at her. "You cannot be serious."

She smiled sweetly. "You asked a question."

A quiet scoff escaped Ryver as Darian reached into his coat again and handed her another pouch.

Emelie accepted it without shame.

"He will be there," she said. "Dhull usually spends his time with the other merchants. He hardly enters the market himself unless something catches his interest."

She looked directly at Ryver.

"And if you’re planning to get a merchant’s token, I’d suggest you pretend to be selling the elf."

Ryver’s brows shot up. "Excuse me?"

"No merchant sells only one thing." Emelie’s smile widened. "It would look suspicious if you arrived with nothing but your own merchandise."

Darian gave a small nod. "She’s right."

Ryver looked at him in disbelief. "You’re agreeing with her?"

"I’m agreeing that you’re useful enough to sell.... That’s a compliment."

Emelie laughed, clearly enjoying herself.

Darian decided that was enough. He had gotten the information he needed, and he wasn’t about to stand there while she found another reason to empty his pockets.

"You’ve been most helpful with your services" he said, turning toward the door.

Ryver followed him, still muttering something under his breath about something he could quite catch.

They had almost reached the doorway when Emelie’s voice stopped them.

"You know..."

Her tone had changed, there was no teasing in it now, she sounded seriously this time as she spoke.

Darian slowed but didn’t turn.

"A few days ago, one of my girls told me His Majesty came here."

That made Darian pause.

"He was drunk," Emelie continued. "Quite badly, from what I was told. Apparently, he could barely keep his thoughts together, but he kept talking about a shadow."

Darian’s expression hardened.

"A shadow who knew too much," she added.

He heard her footsteps move closer behind him.

"And today, the Grand Duke walks into my establishment looking for a man who also happens to know too much."

A quiet chuckle escaped her. "Coincidence?"

Darian remained facing the door.

"Could be."