A strangled, keening sound comes from Kace. “Never speak poorly of the Madame! We're Gods Blessed to have such an upstanding citizen. Seboia would be bereft without her.”
“Or husbands would be forced to fuck their own wives for once,” Griffin retorts.
Darius ducks around me to look at Kace. “You only say that because she gave you your own chambers.”
“Your own chambers?” Zander gapes.
“Oh, yes. A sitting room, a bed large enough for a dozen females. There's even a swing! It’s magnificent, fit for royalty.”
“I haven't ever received my own chambers,” Zander mumbles, toeing a rock with his boot.
Except for the whole suite of rooms he has back home. With a bed that can and has fit over a dozen females. A story he's repeated to me numerous times over the years, in excruciating detail.
“Do you have a room there?” I ask Darius, followed by an immediate wince, regretting my jealous words almost instantly.
An arrogant smirk tugs at his lips. “No, I tend to be a bit choosier with my bedmates.”
The heat of a blush spreads through my cheeks and I turn my back on that knowing gaze, instead directing mine to a confused looking Amara.
“Do they pretend to be maidens?” Amara asks, scratching her head. “Like role playing?"
“I bet the local virgins go there to be deflowered,” Zander says, hands on his hips. “You know, have a trained professional teach them the pleasures of the body."
Amara shakes her head. “The first time is never pleasurable.”
“Just an awkward, painful experience followed by an overwhelming sense of disappointment,” I say, to which Amara cackles.
“I would make it quite pleasurable for you, my lovely Lena,” Zander says, waggling his brows.
I chuckle at his teasing just as a low growl rumbles beside me. Gaze drifting to the owner of that growl, I find a furious Darius glaring daggers at Zander.
Godsdamn, I bet he growls when he fucks.
Forcefully shoving aside the thought of how pleasurably that growl could rumble against my clit, I pry my eyes from Darius when Amara says, “I guess I can understand the reasoning behind maiden, but the eye? And tears?”
Gaze swinging back to the sign, I find a drawing of exactly what Amara described, an eye shedding a lone tear.
“It's a pussy,” Kace says matter of factly.
“What?” Amara asks.
Cocking my head to the side, I squint up at the sign, wondering how an eyeball could possibly resemble a cunt. “My pussy sure as fuck doesn't look like that.”
Darius and Amara both laugh.
“It’s a pussy weeping with pleasure,” Kace says as if it's obvious, then sighs dramatically. “It's a common issue for me.”
“Or crying from dissatisfaction,” Amara quips.
Kace gasps.
“Don't listen to them,” Zander says, narrowing his eyes on Amara as he rubs Kace’s back. “You're a very handsome male. I'm sure you make all the women weep with pleasure.”
“That's kind of you to say,” Kace replies, patting above Zander’s bulging pec. “You're quite handsome yourself.”
Zander puffs his chest out, preening.
“There’s two of them,” Tristan says, and I laugh at the look of horror on the normally stoic man’s face.
Kace tosses an arm across Zander's shoulders and tugs him to his side, heading toward the brothel. “Let me explain the basics.” Wholly engrossed in his words, Zander nods earnestly. “Tally, Milly, and Vita are always good for a spin, but you're going to want to avoid Elva for the next few weeks. Unless you don't mind having a rash on your… Ladies!” Kace’s arms whip up, his words trailing off. “I've brought a friend.” All the courtesans cheer and throw themselves at both males, peppering them with kisses.
There really are two of them.
Shaking my head, I look at a chuckling Darius, who appears just as amused as I am by our absurd friends.
“There's the Early Bird Inn.” He motions with his head towards a building that looks to be quite older than the ones surrounding it. I scrunch up my nose when I see it.
The Early Bird Inn is one of the few structures I've seen that wasn’t built with this kingdom’s signature white stone. But while the lack of stone ornamenting the pub and a few of the other shops was a conscious choice rather than a lack of coin, the two-story inn constructed of all dark wood may not be able to say the same. With its fraying wood, missing shingles, and a dilapidated wraparound porch, its neglect is more than apparent. It’s the first building I've seen since arriving in Seboia that hasn't been pristinely maintained.
“An inn across the street from a brothel.” I snort. “That's convenient.”
Darius chuckles. “Lords love visiting Seboia. Their wives, not so much.”
We share a smile, following behind Amara and Tristan as we silently make our way towards the inn, but my smile lessens the closer we get. Palms sweaty, heart galloping, I trail behind Amara and Tristan up the stairs. The rickety porch voices its protest with creaks and groans as it struggles to bear our weight. Tristan opens the door, a bell tolling his arrival as he and Amara disappear inside, while I turn to face Darius who’s still loitering at the bottom of the steps.
Without looking in his direction, Darius waves Griffin on and we both listen to the sound of his retreating boots as we stare wordlessly at one another.
A niggling of doubt suddenly creeps in, its warning strengthening in volume the longer I stare into those glacial blue eyes. I’m not sure why. It’s not like I’m a stranger to casual sex. Far from it, actually. It’s the only way I do have relations. Although, now that I think about it, that could be the reason why, as I doubt anything involving Darius could remain casual.
