Morning at the Crimson Lantern was nothing like night. The heavy curtains let through soft, honey-colored light that danced across the polished floorboards. The air smelled faintly of roses, lavender, and recently swept wood, a contrast to the intoxicating chaos of wine, sweat, and desire that filled the halls after dusk.
Eveline moved through the rooms like a shadow stretched in sunlight, her skirts brushing against the floor in barely a whisper. Some girls were already awake, they perched at mirrors brushing their hair until it shone like spun silk, others folding linens with preparing for the day. The assigned maid skillfully shared a special "tea" for all the ladies present to avoid some future trouble. Although this was a brothel, all the girls were trained on how to be a proper lady. The proper way to stand, to eat and most importantly the art of seduction. Menn tend to spill a lot in bed, and such information can be used... or rather sold.
"Good morning, Queen," Lillian called from the kitchen doorway, balancing a tray piled with warm bread, honeyed tea, and tiny, delicate pastries. Her tone was teasing, but her eyes held the same reverence she always carried for Eveline.
"Queen, indeed," Eveline murmured with a slow, knowing smile, her eyes scanning the courtyard below where a pair of young men were carrying barrels of water with exaggerated care, clearly competing to impress a passing maid. "And how are my subjects this fine morning?"
Lillian giggled, setting the tray down. "Your subjects are as chaotic as ever. But no one's fallen into the fountain yet, so I'd call it a victory."
Eveline's lips quirked upward. "Victory indeed, compared to the evening, every morning is a victory," she said, gesturing vaguely toward the upper floors, where the day's preparations for visiting clients were underway. "Have there been any recent troubles?"
"I overheard some squabbles near the kitchen" Lillian whispered, lowering her voice as if the walls themselves had ears. "Mariette tried to steal Seraphine's necklace, the one that Lord Mason bought for her having lots of diamonds on it, she is quite jealous, too bad she was so stupid to get caught" she continued, "someone left a wine bottle in the hallway. Smells like it's been half-drunk… probably one of the apprentices. Madam Rubin has been annoyed to death this morning, it's really satisfying "
Eveline laughed softly, she poured herself a cup of tea, savoring the warmth as it slid down her throat.
A sudden rustle drew her attention. One of the girls had dropped a silver tray, clattering plates and cups onto the floor. Eveline's eyes narrowed, but she didn't move. "Umm... I'm sorry, I'll pack this up immediately," the frightened girl quickly packed up. Eveline's aura was too intimidating, though she lived in the brothel, she only participated in dancing, and her services were exclusive, only the highest ranking in court could book her services, and all of them had terrified expressions after her services, which made her feared and unapproachable. Though it didn't affect her orders, men still booked her from time to time. Her prestige won her the title of brothel queen.
Eveline pursed her lips before withdrawing her gaze from her, she looked at the endless sky instead, "Mom, Eva... I'm sorry"
In another room, the air was thick with a different tension entirely. A woman's moan sliced through the morning calm, urgent and pleading, hands tied to the bedposts. "Anthony, please…" Her voice trembled, fragile and desperate.
If anyone had seen the scene, they would have been shocked, not at the woman bound and exposed, but at the prince himself. Rumors said he was crippled, confined to a wheelchair, yet here he was, moving with a precision and strength.
Anthony leaned over her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Please what?..." he murmured, his voice carrying a cruel amusement. He took a sip of wine, his fingers settling at her entrance of her core, circling round it, teasing her, Chloe tried to close her legs on instinct as she felt his touch but Anthony forcefully opened it again. he inserted two fingers, hitting it on her sensitive spot, Chloe gasped before letting out a loud moan,a sensation swelling in her stomach as she succumbed to the pleasure. Anthony cut her off withdrawing just before the she could reach the edge of release. "Please..." She whimpered, tears streaming. "I'm sorry… it's my fault. " she choked, voice trembling under his scrutiny.
Anthony studied her, the girl's beauty and fragility a contrast to the hardness in his eyes. And yet, even he could not bring himself to hurt her further. His hands loosened the ropes. "Wear your clothes. Unless you want someone to see your miserable state," he said coolly, settling back into his wheelchair, covering her trembling form with a quilt. A guard appeared at his side, ready to wheel him away.
The prince's eyes lingered for a moment before he spoke. "After this… you will not return to the brothel." His tone left no room for argument.