I hurriedly picked the gowns we had finished mending with Baas, and flew down the stairs too, hoping to cross by the Lord. We were right at the top of the mansion with Baas, under the rooftop, sharing the landing with the other peculiar demands. The third floor was dedicated to the newest recruits, so it would be harder for them to escape. The second floor was for the second rate girls, the first for the most popular and the mistress’s office, the ground was a maze of boudoirs and the lavish dining hall. Most of what I held in my arms was for our prima donna on the first floor. She was of mixed heritage too, native and wild west bounty hunter client, but her long straight black hair reflected the same crow blue as Elise and got her lots of attention. Missy was the second most popular, with her striking blond hair and skin so pale she could have been mistaken for a real white girl. She had not seen the sun in years. I whipped past her door, forgetting to make myself discreet. 

Her doorknob shattered my ribcage and I had to stop to catch my breath. 

“Well aren't you bringing me just what I need.”

She snatched a laced corset from my hands and wacked the door in my face. The girl that brought in the most money got the best room, the first choice from the tailor and of the food from the table. Missy was so close to the top she could taste it, but only ashes remained in her mouth once she bit into the second morsel of meat, got the second choice of fabric, had the next best room… and the bitterness turned her savage. 

I needed to get Prima donna’s corset back from Missy before the mistress learnt about it and poked needles under my nails. She didn’t want her punishments to leave any visible marks on our bodies, that ruined sales, so she had become creative in invisible tortures. 

“Give it back!” I furiously whispered at the door.

Footsteps were coming up the stairway. I had two options, getting caught by the mistress, or getting bashed by Missy. The choice was easy. I rushed in, no doors had keys for anyone but the mistress. Missy was on me with her hairbrush in a second. The attack was surprisingly vicious. With my arms full of our careful mending I couldn’t protect myself. My ears rang with the blows. I shimmied under her arm and whisked to the other side of her bed. She leaped up, holding her metal brush up like a dagger, ready to stab real holes into my flesh. The end was frighteningly sharp and in her crazed eyes shone her thirst for conquest. I dropped my load to escape the jabs just in time. She’d have killed me. But she wacked back up, cheating, going for the face. 

“Flea-gobbing lunatic!” I hissed, hands over my nose, freed blood cascading over my fingers.

“Don’t you dare stain my blankets!” Missy shrieked, slapping a wet rag into my face. 

It stank of warm urine and dirty old men. I gagged but kept it in place. The mistress would kill me if I ruined Missy’s silk sheet, the clients were crazy for the feel. We were luxury. But when Missy backed off enough, I kicked her powderbox into her face. 

“I’ll skin you!” She leapt at me with a savage cry.

I tripped on the piled laundry and yelped. High in the air, she swung a stool over her head, ready to strike. But her door crushed open. 

We both ducked as we turned: an ingrained response. But the bed was too high for me to see the mistress’s face just yet. I sucked in my lip in visceral fear. Last time she had tortured both Baas and me when I hadn’t smiled at the client. She knew making him pay for my mistakes drove me crazy and kept me in line with her vision. She’d taken her time too.

Missy backed off meekly and dropped her stool. But unexpectedly she made big eyes at me, and behind her hand she mouthed for me to hide. I rolled under the bed, as silent as an eel.

“How unexpected at this time of day.” Missy purred, sweet like the stickiest molasses. 

How nonchalant she sounded with the mistress! I crawled under, looking for an eyehole. But a chest, slipped under the boxframe of the bed, was in the way. It blocked the view of the corridor and most of the room.

“Come in.” Missy invited. 

But the Mistress didn’t move. My skin grew clammy. She wasn’t buying it.

“Here, make yourself comfortable.” Missy insisted, pushing the jumbled mess we had created off of her bed. She dropped down on the slippery sheets, invitingly. 

I hadn’t known they’d entertained such a relationship. This had to be a secret. One, I was sure, not intended for me. Now if I got caught, things would be extra bad. Missy turned on her bed. 

“Come on.”

Two heavy footsteps hit the floorboard. Startled, I hit the wooden case. This was not the mistress. I bit my hand not to let out a sigh. It was only a client. Better Missy than me.

His weight dipped the bed over me. I dropped down to my belly, cheek against the cool floorboard and slowly took a new breath. It was suddenly very restricted under here. The air was thin and a vision of the mattress squashing me down in a regular tempo got me sweating. But the client’s huge hand flew under the bed, latching onto my arm. I went limp. The dead weight didn’t phase him. He pulled me up as easily as a rag and dropped me on my feet. 

I curtsied, mind racing to find an acceptable excuse. Spying would get me salt rocks inserted under the skin if I couldn’t deflect a complaint. That burnt for days.

I batted my eyes as my gaze came back up, taking in his imposing height. He would have had to bend to walk through the door. His clothes were in velvet and silks but he wore his livery with the wolf sigil. That meant he wasn’t Lord Gomond, despite the price of his clothes. He was just his man servant. I dared look up into his face. He had a carefully trimmed red beard and matching hair attached on his nap with a navy ribbon. He glared with his icy eyes at Missy who shrunk back. She would get the salt too, and then she’s find a way to make my life miserable until she finally gave the killing blow. I gulped. 

But the man servant was full of surprises. 

“Terrorizing a wee lass, were you? Scoundrel! I’ll look after the babe.” 

And he gathered me under his arm and out into the corridor. I had been so mistaken. He was just a client, but not one looking for her. I swallowed the revulsion, running chills along my spine, and took his hand like I’d been taught. The playful smile beaten into me tugged at my lip as I pulled him towards my upstairs room.

“You going the wrong way, lassy, or I think you are. I was told I’d find Madame on the first floor.” He pushed me along with a smile and frowned at the plaques on the doors. He must have been able to read. And even more amazing, he had saved me without asking for a price. I pointed at the door at the end of the corridor. 

In two seconds he was folding himself through the door frame and dragging me with him into the heavily perfumed office of the mistress. I was trapped. She lifted her coal black lashes slowly from her books. Gold and rubies glistened at her neck and fingers. Intricate wine coloured lace covered her wrists and throat. Her pouty mouth broke into a seductive smile. She was not young anymore, not by anyone’s standard, but her hair remained mahogany coloured and perfectly styled. In one glance she took it all in: the wolf livery, the red hair, the big hand almost covering my whole arm, and her smile grew almost to her eyes.

“What an honour Lord Gomond is paying me.”

“Aye.” The man servant agreed.

“And what can I do for his lordship?”

“We are, you see, in need for a very great number of beautiful, trained servants. And all we have been presented so far are maimed slaves or wild savages. This is unacceptable. But someone whispered into the ear of my master that you might be able to remedy to the problem.” 

The mistress opened wide eyes. Lord Gomond was living up to his eccentric reputation.

“My slaves are irreplaceable therefore utterly priceless. They were trained into the arts of seduction by my very self, groomed from the most tender age as you can see, and of the highest quality. I have no intention of parting with any of them.”

“We’re only asking for two of them permanently and a dozen on a three weeks loan until we get our own. None of your girls will be harmed, I can assure you. My master does not intend to use their very exclusive talent. He is an honourable man, looking for a wife and organising the largest ball this rock has ever known. All the eligible maidens of the colony are invited. He needs servants that will look like they stepped down from heaven. He needs women capable of transforming his halls into fairytale abodes, he needs lovely visions at every corner to remind each contender that they have to be as exceptional as he is to win his heart. He needs maids that curtsy and serve with suave demeanours. And he is willing to pay handsomely.”

The man servant lowered at the ear of the mistress and she batted her eyes as greed filled them up to the brim. 

The words rang in my ears: two slaves were out of here permanently. 

This was our way out of a syphilis death. 

Chills electrified my skin.