The greatest mysteries of the universe,
are those that lie closest to us.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson
***
"Do you know your name reminds me of someone?" As the encounter concluded after exploring each other's desires, Ravenna lay in his arms, the right side of her face buried on his chest as she stared in daze.
When he spoke, Ravenna silently inhaled what was supposed to be a deep breath, "No, Milord," tracing a finger around his chest.
"My mistress," he said with a hoarse voice. "Hannah Vermont de Vorios. She was my wife's best friend. Somewhere beneath the nobles, more of a commoner,"
Ravenna felt the urge to spit in disgust but she moved one side of her lips. She never knew Lady Agness Dromberk was fond of commoners. She looked down on people less than royalty and spoke on a higher status than the meager. It reminded her of when the Lady accused a servant of witchery, and the poor girl was sentenced to death.
She shifted. "My bet is she tastes better,"
"She fucks best," he corrected, and chortled, the rumble of its sound reverberating in her ears.
"Mm," Though she disliked the Lady, she wouldn't wish it upon anyone to be cheated on. Don't vows mean anything nowadays?
"However, she went missing," Ravenna stilled, noticing the change in his tone. It seemed to carry the weight of sorrow. Or was she mistaken?
"Missing?" She asked, arching a brow.
"I sent my men on the search for her, but nothing. She disappeared the last night we fucked," Ravenna didn't need to look at him to comprehend his expression.
"Maybe she... Maybe she left? I don't know. She must've a reason," It was possible. Ravenna hated to be in this kind of conversation but it was the most important role of whores. To listen. To bed. To fuck. And to be paid.
"I thought so," his eyes went distant when he said. "But she wouldn't leave after she confronted me about the bastard she carried in her womb,"
Ravenna turned speechless at the weight of that knowledge. Lord Thorold harbored a child outside his home? What a way to ruin him.
But it would mean nothing even though she held a secret because she was still a commoner and a disguised whore. Most people would listen, and it might spread rumors, still most people would stone it to death. Nothing a few bags of gold won't do.
"It wasn't mine," He was talking about the child. "It belonged to someone else. Someone from the court. I suspected it every time I saw her depart with a different smell. And I confirmed it a night when we made out. More of a royalty fragrance. The type the King wore,"
If Ravenna was drinking, she swore she would've choked on it. However, she swore her eyeballs left their sockets the moment he mentioned it. The king?
Lord have mercy…
"T-the King?" She tried not to stutter, but she did. Suddenly, it interested her to know.
"Shocking?" he scoffed. "I did too. But that's not my issue. The King beds any woman he wishes to, because he's the King. However, not eliminating the source of Vladoryn's blood,"
Ravenna was sure the effect of the little amount of ale she had consumed affected her, because her head suddenly felt like a huge rock was placed at the top.
"What if…" her voice started sounding desperate, so she cleared her throat, resuming her train of thought. "The King remains the King. I can tell you hate him already," she tried to sound nonchalant and hopefully, it did.
"Mm," he didn't reply causing Ravenna to take the small sound as a red flag. No more questions.
After a little while, she gracefully rose from the bed, gathering her scattered clothes and he watched her, either mesmerized by her beauty or by her earlier skills. His altercation earlier was suddenly replaced by a look of lust.
And Ravenna smiled, returning the gesture, her eyes searching his for any sign of truth about earlier.
Another proof that whatever was said was either a way to whistle a lame conversation or a mistaken truth.
It happened to one of the whores who thought a client of hers spoke the truth about one of the noble families, and out of greed, gossiped until it took her life.
She dressed swiftly, her movements still elegant and practiced. "Thank you, milord,"
"The pleasure was all mine," Lord Thorold replied, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'll return soon."
Ravenna smiled, collecting her coins from the nearby dresser, and the gold jewel. This would cost a fortune. "I'll look forward to it, milord."
She promised the same words she had given to several others. And she beamed again.
"Not the gold,"
His sudden words caused her to freeze and she turned, arching a brow.
"We made a deal, Milord," She tried to sound lovely but every word was forced through her gritted teeth.
"It was an offer. And besides, your money is complete,"
Such a greedy bastard.
After making her listen to all his sulking from the moment they started till they finished. With a strained smile, she returned it.
"GET AWAY, YOU STINKING WHORE!"
Something tipped over on the ground, compelling a shattered sound. Lord Thorold's concentration was distracted by curiosity while Ravenna's hands carefully brushed the gold jewel, attaching it inside her gown.
It was heaven's timing.
"Hannah?"
He called and she turned, pausing her way from the door. "Yes, Milord?"
"And where do you say you come from?"
Ravenna's heart skipped. But she smiled. "Portoink, milord." She answered. "Why do you ask?"
He simply smiled and passed her a knowing look. "Just a confirmation of what a village has to offer," he said. "Your loveliness is passed from divinity, I must say. Talent, hmm," he brought his fingers up to his chin displaying his thought. "… quite extraordinary." He made sure to stress the last word.
Ravenna curtsied, showing her gratitude for his kind words. "That's so kind of you to say, milord. The heavens-I'm sure House Rebelish honors such an admirable reputation as the eyes fancies your greater looks."
"Not as much as your ass fancies mine," he clicked his tongue and Ravenna felt the urge of Hannah to oink in disgust.
She bowed. "Of course. If you would excuse me," she said, leaving the room rather quickly.
After Lord Thorold departed, Ravenna sighed and descended to the brothel's common room where the air was thick with laughter and music, and something else she was familiar with.
But the earlier conversation had a toll on her. Could the King be responsible for—?
"Hannah! Over here!" Helga, a friend and most likely a sister called, dragging her attention away from the difficult customers that wouldn't stop ogling her and her thoughts.
They used their eyes as a form of harassment that had her body curl.
She hated it.
But she had to do it.
"Sometimes, they think they own us. Just because we are bought by them, they take the privilege to make us feel miserable." Helga said, grabbing her to sit near the fireplace.
She handed her a cup.
Ravenna mouthed the kind words and took in what was in it.
"How was your day?"
"Profitable," She took another sip. "Like they say, the man owes none of his cunts. He hardly doubles the pay though. I call him being stingy and brutal. But today was different" She said, revealing the gold jewel. "He has such a rough appetite," she whispered, and Helga chuckled after a gasp.
"Lord Thorold, eh? He's a generous man. But as notorious as his reputation is. Lovely as his name."
Ravenna scoffed. Lovely indeed.
"How about you?"
"Nothing much," Helga said. Ravenna gave her a look. "Oh, c'mon. Madame Lorraine keeps an eye on me like an eagle desperately wanting to catch a tempting prey. I didn't even have the chance to do it."
"Mm," Ravenna said. "I think he's fond of you, if you ask me,"
Helga looked at the young man settling on one of the couches, sipping ale from his cup, and staring in their direction.
But most especially at her.
Helga flushed. "I don't think so," she responded. "I don't know… Most men come here for pleasure from whores like us. They want a night and a day with you, nothing much."
"Few nights and quarter days, you mean?" Ravenna probed. "That doesn't sound like just 'pleasure'."
"You think he likes me?"
"I can say," Ravenna replied, giving her a small shrug.
Helga stretched her lips, looking at him again.
And he was still staring.
"If it's pleasure he wants, he will have it. I have seen men like him. There are so many. Once they fancy your body, they return for more. They give the instructions, and it is yours to obey."
Ravenna held her hand in support and a reassuring smile.
Helga returns it. "I'm fine." She said. She took in a breath. "It's just that, he reminds me of someone. Did I... ever mention my sisters were killed in Vladoryn?"
Ravenna's heart skipped at the mention of Vladoryn. "No," she replied. "You had sisters?"
Helga forced a small smile. "I did. Three of them," she looked down at her hands, where she massaged them.
"What… happened? To them?"
"We were considered traitors to the king. We were sold as slaves for a start. My… father was locked up in the dungeon, sentenced to death. My mother…" she sighed. "She was crucified, suffered the same fate, but was whipped brutally, while the people watched her. Laughing and mocking our name. When my sisters and I tried to escape, find our way as it was their instructions, I didn't want to go. I-I didn't want to leave them," she gazed at the flames while lost in a daze. "But then, their soldiers caught up with us, and my sister had to hide little me. Amarantha was her name," she looked at Ravenna.
Ravenna rubbed her back gently, trying to comfort her. "Before I realized, I heard their voices. Their pleas and screams echoed louder than my heartbeat. It was then I…" she stopped. "I-I watched them being raped by those Vladoryn's soldiers, before they were killed."
Ravenna's breath hitched, trembling at the thought of what she had passed through.
"A few days later," she heard her say. "I found their heads on a spike at the market square, a symbolism for what happens to a traitor and his traitor borns. Our family's name was soiled, and each day, the people would rain curses on their heads, and spit in disgust at the reputation the king built for them." She released a shaky breath. "Ever since then, I hated the place I was born and the people. I hated the soldiers who killed them all. I hated every knight of Vladoryn, for three of them had raped three of my sisters. Amarantha, Drusilla, and Eluned."
Ravenna listened to all this quietly.
"And then, I was dragged into slavery again. For six years, I was humiliated, stripped, whored, and I almost got mutilated, if not for one night that I... I killed a man. Took a stone and smashed his head. Didn't want to stop smashing until I saw his brains out. All I ever remembered was seeing the faces of my sisters in the man I murdered. My hands bloody, my face not mercied, I had killed my sisters. I had killed them, because they begged me to go... to go with them. I was stubborn... Always the one they had to listen to,"
Ravenna was speechless. But mostly, pitied. "It's not your fault..."
"Madame Lorraine found me that night before anyone would have noticed what I had done, and sheltered me. Raised me to fend for myself, and clothe my needs." She wiped the lone tear that fell from her eye. "Cartwild has been my home ever since."
"I'm very sorry…" Ravenna whispered, ushering the most sincerity in her words to the kindest soul. "None of this was ever your fault, believe me,"
"And yet, I still fucked one of the knights from a Kingdom that killed my family and enslaved me." Knight Ector was his name. The one who kept staring at her.
"You did what you had to do. Anyone would have done the same," Ravenna reassured, her heart breaking into a million pieces.
Helga hugged her, sobbing in her arms and Hannah welcomed it.
Dear heavens… Ravenna sighed. She was under the grasp of facades. How long would she keep pretending to be who she wasn't? She was a friend to someone who hated Vladoryn. Where she came from. A place where she was born.
She released a shaky breath. She was not just a whore and a thief.
She was also a liar.
***
#Hannahandthesevensins