decided on the former, and together we headed back to the Parlour.
It was nearly evening, and it seemed that the women of the Parlour were already beginning to take clients. I avoided them all and went to my room to sulk, but when I opened my door, I found that the bedroom was not empty. A young man was standing next the bed, and he looked up at me rather guiltily when I opened the door.
"Ah. Er … wrong bedroom, sorry."
He swept past me and out of the room before I could say anything to him. Annoyed, I shut the door and made my way to the bed. He had looked younger than me! Far too young to be seeking the company of prostitutes, I thought. And what had he been doing in my room?
I noticed that some clothing had been stacked neatly on the end of the bed, probably by one of the girls. Was I to have no privacy? I then realized that the sheets had all been washed and replaced, as well, and felt slightly guilty. I had to remember that it wasn't really my room, anyway; just a room I was using for a few nights.
I went through the clothing, which was all modern styles—the pants a little too tight for my liking, and the shirts a little too loose and billowy, but it would be nice to have more than one change of clothes to wear.
I was contemplating going downstairs for some dinner when there was a knock on the door. I went to open it and found Emie standing there with a bowl of gruel. I was immediately touched by his kindness, but less touched when he informed me, "Titiana wants you to know that if you're going to continue to take advantage of her hospitality, you're going to have to start earning your keep."
"Thanks," I said in a dead tone.
"Don't mention it," he replied easily. "I'm just the messenger, remember." He winked at me and went away.
I sat on the bed, eating my gruel thoughtfully as the sun went down. Suddenly, there was a fluttering by the window, and I turned to see Draeden leaning casually against the window frame and looking down at me with satisfaction.
" There you are," he said. "You are impossible to track down! How did you get here? Wait, don't tell me." He took a step forward and touched a long finger to my forehead. I felt a flurry of emotions and memories wash through my head, and I realized that he was reading my mind.
"Hey!" I said, jumping backward. "Don't do that!"
"It would have taken far too long to explain," he reasoned. "Fascinating story, though."
"Get away from me," I muttered, turning back to my gruel. "This is all your fault."
"I beg your pardon?" said Draeden, sounding highly offended. " My fault? If it weren't for my gift, you'd be on a slave ship right now on your way across the ocean."
"Well, you could have given me something a little more sensible," I sulked, realizing that my argument was falling flat.
" I couldn't have," he said. "The fairy that was almost selected wanted to give you the gift of reasoning . What good would that have done against that bastard, when your mouth was gagged? My gift is much more useful. Though I notice you haven't been using it much."
"Of course not!" I sputtered. "I can't just seduce whomever I want just so I can get something out of them! It's cruel!"
"They'd like it," said Draeden, with a little smirk on his face.
"Oh, shut up. You are incredibly immature. Can't you make yourself useful?"
He cocked his head. "Useful? How?"
"I don't know!" I exclaimed. "Go find Dante! See if he's got amnesia, or if he's at least trying to find me! I've got to write a letter to my parents and explain the situation."
"Alright," Draeden agreed. "You do that. I'll go and spy on Dante. Although I can think of a great deal of things I would rather spend my time doing." He sighed. "At least I am immortal." Then he vanished in a twinkling of midnight blue dust.
I sighed and looked around for some writing instruments, finding that there were none to be had. Sighing deeper still, I got up from the bed and made my way down the stairs. Draeden's presence always
It was nearly evening, and it seemed that the women of the Parlour were already beginning to take clients. I avoided them all and went to my room to sulk, but when I opened my door, I found that the bedroom was not empty. A young man was standing next the bed, and he looked up at me rather guiltily when I opened the door.
"Ah. Er … wrong bedroom, sorry."
He swept past me and out of the room before I could say anything to him. Annoyed, I shut the door and made my way to the bed. He had looked younger than me! Far too young to be seeking the company of prostitutes, I thought. And what had he been doing in my room?
I noticed that some clothing had been stacked neatly on the end of the bed, probably by one of the girls. Was I to have no privacy? I then realized that the sheets had all been washed and replaced, as well, and felt slightly guilty. I had to remember that it wasn't really my room, anyway; just a room I was using for a few nights.
I went through the clothing, which was all modern styles—the pants a little too tight for my liking, and the shirts a little too loose and billowy, but it would be nice to have more than one change of clothes to wear.
I was contemplating going downstairs for some dinner when there was a knock on the door. I went to open it and found Emie standing there with a bowl of gruel. I was immediately touched by his kindness, but less touched when he informed me, "Titiana wants you to know that if you're going to continue to take advantage of her hospitality, you're going to have to start earning your keep."
"Thanks," I said in a dead tone.
"Don't mention it," he replied easily. "I'm just the messenger, remember." He winked at me and went away.
I sat on the bed, eating my gruel thoughtfully as the sun went down. Suddenly, there was a fluttering by the window, and I turned to see Draeden leaning casually against the window frame and looking down at me with satisfaction.
" There you are," he said. "You are impossible to track down! How did you get here? Wait, don't tell me." He took a step forward and touched a long finger to my forehead. I felt a flurry of emotions and memories wash through my head, and I realized that he was reading my mind.
"Hey!" I said, jumping backward. "Don't do that!"
"It would have taken far too long to explain," he reasoned. "Fascinating story, though."
"Get away from me," I muttered, turning back to my gruel. "This is all your fault."
"I beg your pardon?" said Draeden, sounding highly offended. " My fault? If it weren't for my gift, you'd be on a slave ship right now on your way across the ocean."
"Well, you could have given me something a little more sensible," I sulked, realizing that my argument was falling flat.
" I couldn't have," he said. "The fairy that was almost selected wanted to give you the gift of reasoning . What good would that have done against that bastard, when your mouth was gagged? My gift is much more useful. Though I notice you haven't been using it much."
"Of course not!" I sputtered. "I can't just seduce whomever I want just so I can get something out of them! It's cruel!"
"They'd like it," said Draeden, with a little smirk on his face.
"Oh, shut up. You are incredibly immature. Can't you make yourself useful?"
He cocked his head. "Useful? How?"
"I don't know!" I exclaimed. "Go find Dante! See if he's got amnesia, or if he's at least trying to find me! I've got to write a letter to my parents and explain the situation."
"Alright," Draeden agreed. "You do that. I'll go and spy on Dante. Although I can think of a great deal of things I would rather spend my time doing." He sighed. "At least I am immortal." Then he vanished in a twinkling of midnight blue dust.
I sighed and looked around for some writing instruments, finding that there were none to be had. Sighing deeper still, I got up from the bed and made my way down the stairs. Draeden's presence always
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