ALOS Chapter One

The prostitutes in the Kingdom of Lindalia had pretty, close-lipped smiles to hide their knocked-out teeth. Full bosoms concealed hollow ribs as their gowns of vivid colors distracted from the dark circles beneath their eyes. And every night they pulled their corset strings so tight it made their heads airy, making it easier to tolerate the dirty hands on their bodies. If you listened closely, you could hear them whisper pretty words to try and drown out the sounds from the next bedroom. Their lives were far from the comfortable façade conjured by the brothels' plush beds and satin sheets. As Seren ran her thin hand down the front of her corseted chest, she found herself thankful she wasn’t really one of them.

Fussing with her sleeves, Seren thought back on the girls that had just finished helping her dress. They were barely more than children – the eldest no more than fifteen or sixteen. Yet despite being only a single harvest away from the age of twenty, Seren had relied on the younger girls' years of expertise to squeeze into the skirts and ruffles expected of the working ladies at this particular brothel.

Fidgeting with the painfully-tight lace cuffs around her wrists, Seren tried to take a deep breath through the corset bindings. Unaccustomed to such restrictive garb, she was already growing lightheaded. Frustrated by how well the girls had trapped her in the dress’s ties, she collapsed with a huff on the torn cushion of the weathered vanity stool, tilting her head to match the slightly askew mirror. Fascinated by her own appearance, Seren took in the sight of her own clean body. Prior to her earlier scrubbing, it had been nearly a month since her last bath - long enough to have forgotten about the soft curls in her long, auburn hair. Wrinkling her nose in amusement, Seren’s eyes traced the points between her freckles, which had at one point faded completely among the dirt she was so accustomed to seeing smeared across her face.

Catching a smile at the edge of her painted lips, Seren admired the details of her disguise. A gaudy, yet masterfully crafted gown of fuchsia and green satin signaled to all that she was for hire. And as loathe as Seren was to admit it, the colors contrasted beautifully against the visage of her bare shoulders.

I almost look...pretty?  Seren mused, admiring the paints the girls had put on her face.

A sultry, broken moan from somewhere nearby pulled her from her thoughts. But it quickly quieted, fading back in with the melodic trill of flutes from the main hall and the carnal thumps of other bodily instruments that pounded in their out-of-sync rhythms from the rooms around her. With a deep breath, Seren re-focused on the task ahead, and what was to be perhaps the most difficult and dangerous contract she had ever been given. Typically, brothels were easy marks. The drunks that frequented them didn’t put up much of a fight for their coin once you had a knife between their knees. But this place was unlike any Seren had ever worked before. There were no drinks, and no knives. Only nobility and upfront payment.

This had better be worth it, Seren thought to herself as she fidgeted with her mother’s teardrop-shaped pendant sitting soundly on her chest. In a practiced motion, she ran her thumb over its smooth, black surface as she took a nervous step towards the door, sticking her head out to peek down the brothel's hallway. Hidden in the doorway, Seren watched as one of the girls that had helped her get dressed pulled an older man up the last few steps. When they reached the top, the girl let out a yelp of surprise when he pushed her roughly up against the wall, mouthing hungrily at her neck. With a grimace, Seren watched him slide his hand beneath the girl’s skirts.

The girl - Ayla, if Seren remembered correctly - couldn’t be more than sixteen. And it wasn’t difficult to see from the downturn of her lips that she wasn’t enjoying herself. Without thinking, Seren quickly made her way down the hall, bumping into the couple and knocking the man over.

“Oh, Mages!” cried Seren as Ayla watched, confused at Seren’s interruption. Offering the man her hand, Seren helped him to his feet. Pulling him close, Seren feigned a flirtatious apology. “I am so sorry, my lord. I haven’t been feeling well. I must have lost my balance. Please let me make it up to -,” suddenly a wet, rasping cough tore itself violently from her chest. Seren pushed out several more coughs as the older man looked upon her with disgust before quickly retreating down the stairs. Once out of sight, Seren turned to Ayla, concerned.

“Are you alright?” she questioned. “Did he hurt you?”

Seren was met with furious blue eyes.

“What are you doing?!” Ayla hissed, panicked. “I haven’t been chosen by a man all night! If I don’t make enough to pay Madame Raisa by morning, she’ll throw me out!”

Pushing past Seren, Ayla hurried down the stairs. Seren watched in horror as Ayla slipped into the crowd and caught the man’s hand before stretching up on her toes and planting a kiss on his cheek. Bile rose in Seren’s throat as she watched the man slide a reconciliatory arm around her waist and began leading her down the hall, towards the first-floor bedrooms. Sickened by it all, Seren closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to calm the anger bubbling in her chest. She had never had a problem at the other brothels she worked. In fact, she quite enjoyed the company of the girls she had occasion to meet around the city. Most were around her age if not a few years older, and they were generally much smarter than the men they wiled out of their savings for a few minutes of fun. But the girls here were so young. It seemed that the more coin that lined the pockets of the buyers, the fewer years that tainted their merchandise. It wasn’t right. But Seren was powerless to help.

Pushing Ayla’s look of desperation out of her mind, Seren tried once more to concentrate on the plan.

Focus, Seren. Haidin's relying on you.

Shifting her gaze from the place where Ayla had disappeared, Seren gazed over the balcony rail to scan the crowd below for her mark. This wasn’t going to be an easy job, and she was only going to get one chance. If she missed her mark in the crowd, there wouldn’t be another opportunity - only one aspect of many that Seren found strange about this job. When she first learned the details, she had been skeptical to agree. Stealing from a member of the royal house was where Seren had always drawn a hard line. But Haidin had convinced her to say yes with whispered promises of luxury and comfort, and by speaking softly of the finer things they would finally have together. He had spun tales of a small home of their own near the city wall - a guaranteed safe place away from prying eyes. He spoke of a hearth surrounded by woven rugs beneath feather-stuffed mattresses on sturdy boxes. He had teased Seren with promises of jeweled combs for her hair and fresh bread and meat every night – luxuries that neither of them had ever experienced.

“Just think of it, Ren. A place of our own where we can live and eat like kings! We’re so close. Please, just trust me. Don’t you trust me?”

With Haidin’s words echoing in her mind, Seren moved to the top of the polished wooden staircase, pausing to gaze upon the colorful crowd below. The brothel’s girls twirled their vibrant skirts as they danced with men seeking company for the night. The men, both young and old, wore robes of varying nobility that swayed and spun in harmony with the women’s dresses as they danced from room to room. Seren’s stomach churned as she watched, knowing perfectly well why these men were here. Still, a part of her was in awe. This was the closest she had ever been to the city’s nobles. She watched as flirtatious couples disappeared one by one. And as new men entered through the main door, those who had been serviced left quietly through the side, disappearing into the night on their way back home to their wives, sisters, and mothers – their evening of entertainment already forgotten.

Seren turned her attention back to the main entrance, where Riletta Raisa, the owner of the exclusive Mages' Rest brothel, stood by the front entrance welcoming each new customer. With every seductive curtsy, Riletta’s long, raven hair fell perfectly around her sculpted breasts, drawing the gaze of each man from her piercing ice-blue eyes to the giant ruby hanging from her neck. The chance to see this incredible gem in person was, of course, one of the main attractions of the Mage’s Rest. The stone was rumored to have belonged to one of the six Ancient Masters. The chance to come so close to a piece of magical history, and so near the breasts upon which it rested, was alluring.

Once Riletta greeted each man, she took their cloaks and gestured to a girl nearby who would eagerly whisk away the new arrival to dance. Seren had studied this routine, and the Madame’s habits, for several days. At first, she wondered how Riletta had managed to hold on to the massive jewel sitting on her chest for so long. It would be easy enough for someone to hold a dagger to her throat and demand its payment. Seren had even considered doing so herself. But she had quickly come to realize that Riletta was a terrifying woman. A beauty of no more than thirty, the Madame was swift with a knife and was known to carry a particularly virulent poisoned blade on her person. But exactly where on her person she managed to keep it was left to the imagination, as her dress was just as tight as Seren’s. Regardless, Riletta somehow managed to disguise her demons well enough to seduce the noblemen in off the streets with promises of love and companionship.

Glancing around the room, Seren wondered if her mark had arrived yet. She prayed that she had not taken too long upstairs getting ready.

Haidin would kill me if I missed our chance, Seren thought as panic began to set in. If there was one thing she didn’t want to do, it was disappoint Haidin.

With renewed focus, Seren made her way down the grand staircase to search for her mark - the Royal Chaplain of Lindalia. Haidin had prepared her to find him, relaying that his sources had informed him that the Chaplain would be sporting the royal coat of arms on his cloak. When she found him, her objective was clear: to steal the royal seal he would have on his person and make it out of the brothel unnoticed.

Continuing her search from room to room, Seren wondered once more what use Haidin could possibly have for the royal seal, and why this particular job would pay so well. When she questioned Haidin, his explanation had only fed into her doubts. This job wasn’t for a client, first and foremost. Haidin had made that clear. He wanted the seal. When Seren had asked about the seal itself, he had told her its purpose was to seal royal documents - to mark things as official correspondence from the King of Lindalia. But as Seren pointed out, growing up among the orphans begging on the streets ensured that neither of them received any sort of formal education. Certainly none that would enable either of them to write coherently enough to fool someone into thinking they were royalty. Short of selling it to one of these noblemen already wasting their coin on the city’s women, Seren still didn’t understand how Haidin planned to use it. But Seren trusted Haidin. He knew what he was doing, as evidenced by his meticulous planning for tonight. The evening prior Haidin had broken into the brothel to leave a bottle of spiked wine in the drawer of the back-left bedroom’s dresser – Seren’s chance to incapacitate the Chaplain.

Weaving through the crowded entry hall, Seren once more walked through the plan to clear her mind.

Get him into the third bedroom on the left upstairs and give him the tainted wine. Wait for him to fall asleep, take the royal seal and leave through the window.

By now she could recite the plan forwards, backwards, and in her sleep. Haidin had made sure she repeated it one thousand times over before leaving the hideout earlier that afternoon. And his repeated warnings still ring in her head. “Make sure you go to the back-left bedroom Seren. Otherwise, you won’t have the wine – then what will you do? And if you go through the wrong window, you’ll eat dirt. I won’t be there to help you.”

Irksome as it was, he was right. If Seren didn’t follow the plan, she could get hurt. Or worse – caught.

“Girl!”

Seren jumped as a piercing whisper hissed in her ear. Her heart dropped as she felt the cold hand of Riletta Raisa grip her shoulder. She had stayed in one place for too long and had been spotted by the Madame.

“If I don’t see you with a man’s hand in yours in the next 10 seconds then I will personally escort you out,” she snarled.

“Yes ma’am,” Seren replied through gritted teeth, staring submissively at the floor. “I will seek one out at once.”

“See that you do,” Riletta sneers, her icy talons releasing Seren’s shoulder. Stepping quickly into the crowd, Seren stepped onto the dance floor, melting away into the swaying array of bodies – anything to get away from that wretched woman. Moving smoothly and stealthily through the dance floor, Seren quickly found herself on the other side of the room where she spied the narrow, winding staircase leading up to the back right set of bedrooms. Casting it a glance, she hesitated. She needed to keep an eye on the men. But she also needed to disappear for a while. If Riletta caught her again, she would either be thrown out or given to another man – either of which meant she would fail to find the Chaplain.

Quickly ducking into the staircase, Seren took each step quickly and without a sound. She followed the dimly lit hallway toward the bathroom door at the end of the hall, occasionally glancing over her shoulder and half expecting to see Riletta following her with those piercing blue eyes.

As she passed each room, the music of the lutes and woodwinds from downstairs faded, giving way to the moans of companionship from the occupied bedrooms she passed. Eager to disappear from sight, Seren reached for the large metal handle of the bathroom door, giving it a solid push. But as it swung open, Seren suddenly found herself standing before a massive man in the shadows within. He spun round, reaching for the sword on his hip. With a gasp, Seren took a frightened step back – her heel catching on the lace trim of her dress. In one, quick motion she fell, desperately throwing out her arm and landing painfully on her right hand as an intense pain shot through her wrist and into her elbow.

Eyes watering, heart racing, Seren glanced up at the man whose hand remained on his sword. She knows girls who have died for much less than the embarrassment she may have just caused this man. Eyes wide in fear, Seren whimpered as the man tightened his grip on his sword and stepped from the shadows. But the moment he came into the light of the hall, Seren was stunned to find an aged face and kind eyes that reminded her of summer honeycomb.

Looking her up and down, the man released his grip on his sword, extending his hand in aid. Seren swallowed nervously, reaching out to take it when a glint of light caught her attention. Her eyes widened in disbelief as her blood ran cold. For there, displayed prominently across the top of his silver ring, was a symbol she recognized. The royal coat of arms of the Kingdom of Lindalia.