the one whom we merely call Velvet. She arranges consolation for lonely hearts.”
“The way the old man describes it, I’m destined for sainthood,” said Velvet, a thin smile lifting her lips. “Bastian, may I be of service here? This handsome fellow would cause a stampede among my girls. That is, assuming he’s as gentle as he’s fetching, and not another of your drunken lout friends.”
“Unfortunately for your girls, this handsome fellow may yet be my son-in-law. His sister, however, would like to spend the evening with Nerine.”
“Is that so? Nerine will be delighted. My lady, would you care to come with me?”
Silvana took a sip of her wine and set it aside. Rafael patted her arm as she rose. “Have a good evening, the both of you,” she said. “When you finally find those carousing friends of yours, Sebastian, I’d thank you to give them no well-wishes from me.”
Sebastian laughed so hard that he rocked the table. “You see? Now the pretense of civility is down, we’re all far more entertaining people.”
Velvet took Silvana’s hand and led her across the crowded tavern floor. Tobacco smoke plugged Silvana’s nostrils and scratched her throat, and her eyes watered from the biting ash in the atmosphere and the shifting half-light. Velvet seemed undeterred by the gloom, and she pushed aside men twice her size without hesitation or apology.
The smoke thinned as they approached a flight of stairs. “I’ll lead the way, dear heart,” said Velvet and ascended clutching the skirt of her long red dress.
As she neared the uppermost step, the sound of female conversation built in volume, mingled with the occasional clinking of a glass and the plucking of a harp. Velvet directed Silvana into a candlelit, cloyingly perfumed room filled with scarlet drapes and crimson couches. Several women occupied the room, draped over couches and kneeling on red cushions. Oil portraits on the walls depicted more women still, as if the living ones weren’t sufficient.
Silvana remained in the doorway while Velvet marched into the room. Her earlier seductive wiggle had been abandoned somewhere halfway up the stairs. “Nerine. Wake up, you sloth.”
A tan, lithe woman dressed in loose, translucent red silks stirred from the corner of a divan and opened her heavily shadowed green eyes. “I was merely meditating, mistress. A rehearsal for the day I abandon this life and become a nun.”
The women around her giggled, and Velvet sniffed. “I can only imagine what you’d get up to in a convent, you perverse beast. As it so happens, I’ve brought you your favorite thing.”
“Oh?” Nerine sat upright, and her lips, which were painted a shimmering purple, parted in a subtle smile. “You mean this treasure is for me?” She unfolded herself from the divan and approached Silvana, who looked up at the taller woman while trying not to let her interest show. “What a gorgeous design you have on your face. Was it painful?”
“Not more than I could withstand.”
Nerine cupped Silvana’s chin. “Whoever engraved it was brave. A woman this beautiful…it would be a sin to deface you.” Her free hand stroked Silvana’s neck. “May I ask your name, or shall I refer to you merely as an angel?”
“Take her to a room, for God’s sake,” Velvet said. “Have the decency to be indecent behind closed doors.”
“Come with me, angel.” Nerine placed an arm around Silvana’s waist and guided her down the hall and into a bedchamber. An enormous four-poster bed draped in shimmering crimson silk took up most of the room.
Nerine closed the door and wandered the room, relighting extinguished lanterns, while Silvana sat on the end of the bed and admired Nerine’s slender legs. “My name is Silvana, by the way.”
“A beautiful name.” Nerine stretched out on the bed, one hand supporting her head, and admired Silvana. “You ought to take off your boots, my beauty, so that you can sprawl upon these
“The way the old man describes it, I’m destined for sainthood,” said Velvet, a thin smile lifting her lips. “Bastian, may I be of service here? This handsome fellow would cause a stampede among my girls. That is, assuming he’s as gentle as he’s fetching, and not another of your drunken lout friends.”
“Unfortunately for your girls, this handsome fellow may yet be my son-in-law. His sister, however, would like to spend the evening with Nerine.”
“Is that so? Nerine will be delighted. My lady, would you care to come with me?”
Silvana took a sip of her wine and set it aside. Rafael patted her arm as she rose. “Have a good evening, the both of you,” she said. “When you finally find those carousing friends of yours, Sebastian, I’d thank you to give them no well-wishes from me.”
Sebastian laughed so hard that he rocked the table. “You see? Now the pretense of civility is down, we’re all far more entertaining people.”
Velvet took Silvana’s hand and led her across the crowded tavern floor. Tobacco smoke plugged Silvana’s nostrils and scratched her throat, and her eyes watered from the biting ash in the atmosphere and the shifting half-light. Velvet seemed undeterred by the gloom, and she pushed aside men twice her size without hesitation or apology.
The smoke thinned as they approached a flight of stairs. “I’ll lead the way, dear heart,” said Velvet and ascended clutching the skirt of her long red dress.
As she neared the uppermost step, the sound of female conversation built in volume, mingled with the occasional clinking of a glass and the plucking of a harp. Velvet directed Silvana into a candlelit, cloyingly perfumed room filled with scarlet drapes and crimson couches. Several women occupied the room, draped over couches and kneeling on red cushions. Oil portraits on the walls depicted more women still, as if the living ones weren’t sufficient.
Silvana remained in the doorway while Velvet marched into the room. Her earlier seductive wiggle had been abandoned somewhere halfway up the stairs. “Nerine. Wake up, you sloth.”
A tan, lithe woman dressed in loose, translucent red silks stirred from the corner of a divan and opened her heavily shadowed green eyes. “I was merely meditating, mistress. A rehearsal for the day I abandon this life and become a nun.”
The women around her giggled, and Velvet sniffed. “I can only imagine what you’d get up to in a convent, you perverse beast. As it so happens, I’ve brought you your favorite thing.”
“Oh?” Nerine sat upright, and her lips, which were painted a shimmering purple, parted in a subtle smile. “You mean this treasure is for me?” She unfolded herself from the divan and approached Silvana, who looked up at the taller woman while trying not to let her interest show. “What a gorgeous design you have on your face. Was it painful?”
“Not more than I could withstand.”
Nerine cupped Silvana’s chin. “Whoever engraved it was brave. A woman this beautiful…it would be a sin to deface you.” Her free hand stroked Silvana’s neck. “May I ask your name, or shall I refer to you merely as an angel?”
“Take her to a room, for God’s sake,” Velvet said. “Have the decency to be indecent behind closed doors.”
“Come with me, angel.” Nerine placed an arm around Silvana’s waist and guided her down the hall and into a bedchamber. An enormous four-poster bed draped in shimmering crimson silk took up most of the room.
Nerine closed the door and wandered the room, relighting extinguished lanterns, while Silvana sat on the end of the bed and admired Nerine’s slender legs. “My name is Silvana, by the way.”
“A beautiful name.” Nerine stretched out on the bed, one hand supporting her head, and admired Silvana. “You ought to take off your boots, my beauty, so that you can sprawl upon these
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