Chapter 12: The Inevitable Return
Vaën
Staying at the brothel wasn't a decision. It was a fact. An invisible anchor held me here, like it was part of me—or I was part of it. Every day spent inside these walls tightened the bond a little more. There was no escape. No "elsewhere." Not yet.
The heat inside sometimes suffocated me. The incense, the whispers, the forced laughter… everything reminded me that this place, for all its filth, was the only place where I truly existed. Everything tied me to it. Liana. Lucia. Even the walls. The creaking wood. The silent stares.
And now, the slave merchants.
Their shadows had been hanging over us ever since the message spread through the district. One of the two guards—the one who understood, who wasn't deaf or blind to Lucia's situation—had finally warned us. He hadn't said anything outright, but his eyes spoke loud and clear. They knew. They were getting closer.
Lucia was tense, wound up like a string. She didn't speak, but her movements betrayed her. She had never been the expressive type, but these last few days, she moved too quickly, too mechanically. And me? I wasn't much better. I kept my mask on, but the thought of someone, somewhere, hunting her down gnawed at me from within.
---
And yet, in that thick cloud of silent dread, something shifted inside me.
Not a revelation. Not a flash of power. Just… a shiver. A new sensation, like something clicking into place. It wasn't an overwhelming power or a mysterious mutation. No. Just a class. Simple. Almost dull. But it was mine. And I'd earned it here, between the very walls that had stripped me bare.
It wasn't noble, or radiant. It wasn't shameful either. It was a beginning. A foothold. It clung to me—rough, cold—but it was there. And it would evolve. Just like me.
---
A client walked in. Not the usual kind. Not a drunken lech. Not a hypocritical noble. He carried an odd calm—almost chilling. He didn't look at me like a product. He assessed me like a piece on a chessboard. And I already knew—eyes like his were dangerous.
He didn't speak to me. Didn't lay a hand on me. But in the silence of his footsteps, I understood one thing: he would return. And when he did, I would have to choose—bend, or hold firm.
---
Liana came to me later that night, once the chaos had settled down.
— You sure about what you're doing? she asked quietly.
I barely shrugged.
— No. But I'm doing it anyway.
She gave a tired smile, then walked off without another word.
---
And then, the Matron appeared. She froze for a second when she saw me. Not a word. Just a stare. She might not have known what I had become… but she knew something had changed.
She walked closer and placed her hand on my shoulder. A gentle touch, almost maternal—but I knew what hid beneath it. Control. Habit. A message.
— Keep it up… she murmured. One day, you'll understand you were always meant to be here.
---
I didn't answer. Not because I didn't know what to say, but because I knew she was right. Even if I didn't want to admit it.
Even if one day I was going to break all of this… for now, I was still here.