Cursed

by Casey Odell

  The parlor within was quieter and much more intimate than the last room. Purple walls were dotted with oil lamp sconces. The air hung heavy with the sweet smell of incense. Plush couches and chairs littered the room with tables in between to hold up candle lamps, their shades splashing colorful pools of light across the room. Girls wandered around the room as they carried drinks in long stemmed glasses and attended to a few select men on the couches and chairs. Now this was what she’d pictured a brothel to look like.

  Madame Fran sat in a booth along the left wall. A flute of light wine sat on the table in front of her, her face illuminated by a candle in a glass globe. The attendant girl led Claire to the table and curtsied before taking her leave. The elf was curiously missing.

  “Sit down, Miss Claire.” Fran’s voice was low and rich.

  Claire slipped into the seat across from the Madame, her chest taut with nervousness. What was going on? Why did she want to see her alone? The Madame slipped a monocle out from her bosom attached to a delicate gold chain, held it up to her right eye, and looked Claire up and down.

  Claire sat unmoving in her seat as her eyes studied Fran back. Why was she being examined like that?

  “Definitely not his usual type.” Fran slipped the monocle back into her bosom.

  Claire relaxed a little. “I’m afraid to disappoint you, but we don’t exactly have that sort of relationship.”

  “No?” Fran perked up. “Is there something wrong with my little Farron?”

  Claire fought hard not to laugh at the last part.

  “Come on. Spit it out.”

  “Honestly, Madame, I think he needs an attitude adjustment.”

  Madame Fran burst out laughing, a full hearty sound that turned men’s heads. “He can be quite stubborn at times.”

  Claire smiled. “I feel bad for the woman who captures his heart.”

  Fran glanced sideways at her. “He seems to be quite fond of you, my dear.” She took a sip from the glass of wine. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you yet.” She glanced out into the room.

  Claire leaned over and followed her gaze to a group of chairs hidden around the corner deeper into the room. Farron sat in one of the plush seats with two women sitting on the arms of the chair. She met his piercing gaze for a moment before she quickly looked away. Heat flushed to her cheeks as she turned back to the Madame.

  “I assure you it’s not for the reason you think, Madame.” He was most likely keeping an eye on her as usual; to make sure she didn’t reveal something she wasn’t supposed to.

  “Whatever you say, my dear.” Madame Fran smirked and took another sip of the light colored wine. “Just be gentle with him. I suspect he’s still nursing a broken heart.”

  Claire’s eyes widened. So her made up tale hadn’t been so far from the truth after all. She’d have to interrogate him about it later, even though she doubted she’d get an answer.

  “I’m a lady of class, my dear. Not just anybody can stroll off the street into my establishment. I may run a brothel, but I do have some standards.”

  Why was she telling her this? “Do you believe in selling love?”

  “Oh, I hardly think it’s love I’m selling. Not even you can be that naïve.”

  Claire crossed her arms. “Why are you telling me this?” she decided to ask the question out loud.

  “Because I want you to believe that I am a woman of character. I care for my girls as if they were my own. I believe in returning favors and repaying debts. I want you to know that what you ask of me, I will try my best to do it, in the hope that you may someday do the same for me. I’m an honorable woman in an un-honorable position.”

  Claire let her arms relax to her sides. She was not one to judge usually, but maybe she had judged this woman a little unfairly. Even if she wasn’t aware of it.

  “This world is not kind to women,” Madame Fran said. “There are not many ways a woman can earn a living. At least not respectfully.”

  “I know,” Claire agreed, looking down at her hands.

  “Do you?”

  “My mother, she owned a tavern. It may not have been the same line of work, but in the eyes of many, it was no more respectful.”

  Madame laughed. “Then you know of the troubles, the looks, the whispers. They are but a small price to pay for freedom.”

  Claire gave a slight nod. She wouldn’t exactly call it freedom. Not truly. But she didn’t see the point in arguing with the woman.

  “Farron has done much for me in the past.” She looked at Claire and raised an eyebrow. “And I owe him a great deal of debt. But instead, he brings you to me. You say that you mean nothing to him, I would say otherwise. I just hope this time he knows what he is getting into.” She looked somewhat disappointed. “I’m a lady of my word, my dear. What can I do for you?”

  Claire took a deep breath, searching for a way to begin. “Well, you see…” Her voice was soft and unsure. Her eyes examined the red tablecloth a little too closely as she touched her mother’s bracelet on her left wrist under the table. “I’m looking for someone. Farron said that you may be able to help me.” She looked back up at the Madame. “My town, Stockton, was attacked a few weeks ago, and ever since then I haven’t been able to find any survivors. The person I’m most worried about is my mother. She’s the only person I have in this world.”

  Fran nodded and was quiet for a moment before she said, “I’ll see what I can do, child.”

  Relief swept through her and up to her face to leave a smile in its wake. “Thank you.” She undid her mother’s bracelet and slipped it off her wrist. “Her name is Marion Tanith, and I would like you to give her this if you find her. So she knows that I’m alright.” She set the bracelet on the table.

  Fran jumped in her seat and a hand went up to her chest, a shocked expression on her face. “Child, where did you get that?” Her voice was breathy.

  Claire tensed, puzzled by her reaction. “It was my mother’s.”

  The Madame laughed, but this time it was a haunting sound that sent chills along Claire’s skin. She had no idea what had spooked her. It was just a bracelet.

  “You have no idea what this is, do you?” Fran eyed the bracelet suspiciously.

  Claire shook her head. Apparently she didn’t.

  Fran glanced at Farron as a grin formed on her ruby stained lips. “What did you get yourself into this time?” she muttered more to herself.

  “May I ask, Madame, what--”

  “I’ll help you, my dear,” she said as she turned back to Claire. “But you can keep that-- thing.” She motioned with her hand with a shooing motion.

  Claire snatched the bracelet up and slipped it back onto her wrist. What was going on here? Although she was glad for the help, she wondered what the bracelet meant to the Madame. She didn’t know too much about it herself. Mother never told her anything about it, only saying it was a relic from her past. What kind of past was that exactly? She swallowed hard at the thought. Was there something Mother hadn’t told her?

  “If you have any questions about that bracelet, I suggest you ask Farron about it.”

  Claire’s eyes widened and her gaze snapped to the elf across the room. Had he known all this time? Why didn’t he say anything about it? “Tell me, Madame. How exactly do you know our lovely elf friend?” She looked back at Fran with narrowed eyes.

  “I’m afraid that’s not my story to tell, my dear,” she said before taking a sip of wine.

  “She’s right.” Farron appeared beside the table, quiet as ever.

  Claire glared up at him. What kind of secrets was he keeping? “So it seems.”

  “The hour grows late, Madame,” Farron said.

  She guessed the meeting was over.

  “Please visit again soon. And try not to give me another shock.” She held her hand out to him. Farron took it and laid a light kiss on the back of it.

  “Thank you, Fran. I owe you one,” he said softly.

  Claire’s stomach sank. She didn’t l
ike the idea of him going into debt for her sake. “Thank you, Madame,” she uttered.

  “Don’t mention it, child. Just take care of my dear Farron for me.” She beamed up at the elf and he smiled back.

  Ugh. Claire slid out of the booth and curtsied to the Madame. “I’ll try my best.”

  Farron put a hand on her back and started to lead her to the double doors. As soon as they reached the hallway and out of sight of the Madame, Claire marched towards the door to the outside world. She needed some fresh air. She stepped out onto the porch and made her way down the path through the little garden out front, not stopping until she was on the other side of the fancy little front gate. She tilted her face up to the star filled sky and took a long, deep breath. The muscles in her shoulders trembled from the mixture of irritation and confusion swirling inside of her. She didn’t know whether to be happy or angry.

  “I thought you would be happy, my lady,” Farron said when he joined her out on the dark street.

  “I am, thank you,” she replied and stepped away from him. She had the sudden urge to hit him.

  His eyes narrowed. “What happened back there?”

  She opened her mouth to say something but stopped. Bringing up the bracelet now wouldn’t do her any good. She needed to sort things out first. “Nothing. Just don’t feel like you have to go out of your way to help me. I don’t like being in debt to people.” She turned and started to walk down the street.

  Farron grabbed her arm suddenly and spun her back around. He leaned in close, his grip on her wrist tight, and put a hand under her chin to tilt her face up to look at him.

  “And what is so bad about being in debt to me, my lady?” he asked in a low voice, his eyes studying her carefully.

  Heat rushed to her cheeks as her pulse began to quicken. What was she supposed to say to that? She was already in debt to him and it was not like she wasn’t grateful for his help or what he’d done for her. She just felt like she was sinking too far into this whole mess. The more they helped her, the more she felt like she had to help them in return.

  “Just…” she tried, her voice faltering a little. “Just how far are you sticking your neck out for me?” It was him after all, that pushed for it, the side tracking, the trips to Lendon and Sanre. The whole idea of helping her to find her mother in the first place. And it was because of that that the General got involved. Something she herself didn’t quite mind at all. But it also meant, the debt she owed the elf was greater than she’d thought. Why was he helping her so much with his own skin on the line? What was in it for him?

  “It’s not…” Farron straightened up and released her. He took a breath, his face softening a little. “This is the last I can do to help you, Claire.”

  “What?” It caught her off guard. “What do you mean?”

  “We can’t take any more detours, not even to help find your mother. I’m sorry.”

  She was stunned for a moment, her mind trying to catch up. Then she was angry all over again, at him, even though she knew that wasn’t fair. “You promised!”

  “I didn’t,” he said, calm but stern. Final. “I convinced him to help. And we did. I never said that we would find her. We can’t afford any more delays. Not now. Not with the General with us.”

  Her vision spun, she was so furious, her hands shaking. How could they do this to her? It was the reason she’d volunteered to go on their whole mission in the first place. They had a deal, didn’t they?

  “What about after?” she asked, her voice calmer, searching for what little hope she had left. She took a deep breath. “Will they help me after?”

  “I don’t know. I guess that would depend on what you are…” he said softly. “To them. What you can do for them.”

  She wanted to scream. To cry. She felt used and betrayed. A prisoner. An object. What she wanted didn’t matter. Not to them. She should have found a way to stay in Lendon. At least then she would have had a better chance of finding her mother.

  “I tried, Claire,” he said, his voice soft, apologetic. “But it’s my word against a king’s.”

  She just stared at him, unbelieving. What could she say?

  “Miss Claire?” Bren’s voice suddenly cut through the air.

  Claire jumped a little, startled. She tried her best to gather herself up before the General could see something was wrong, taking another deep breath to calm her nerves. It was all a little too much.

  The elf glared past her, unhappy about their new visitor. Aeron joined Bren as they walked in their direction from down the street.

  “Farron, you should not take women to a brothel.” Aeron stepped up beside Claire. “Even I would not do that.” He turned to her. “I hope you were not traumatized, mon lainí.”

  She forced a smiled at him, not wanting Aeron or Bren to catch on to what just happened. It would do no good to confront Aeron about it now. Or at all, for that matter. Like the other elf, he was just following orders. How could she expect them to disobey their king for her? “Of course not.”

  “Miss Claire, I was worried about you.” Bren took her hand in his and looked past her at Farron, his eyes narrowing a bit.

  “I’m fine, Bren.” She took her hand from him. All she wanted at the moment was a nice hot bath and a plush bed. Her mind was already reeling. Sleep sounded good as well. Really good.

  Bren snatched her hand up again and turned to drag her along with him down the street.

  “Wait, Bren!” Claire struggled to keep up with his hurried pace. It didn’t seem like him to just grab her like that without saying a word. His grip on her hand was tight and firm. He turned and she barreled into him.

  “Miss Claire,” Bren said. He gripped her shoulders tight and drew her in close. “If you’re going to have an affair, at least do it with someone a little bit more respectable.” He bent down and pressed his lips against hers.

  Claire’s eyes went wide, her body stiffened. Sudden and forceful, the kiss was definitely not what she had imagined it would be. Although she had thought of every scenario possible, somehow a dark, vacant street in front of a brothel had escaped that list. But, there was no point in wasting it. So, she closed her eyes and relaxed her body as she gave in to the kiss.

  Bren dropped his hands from her shoulders, wound them around her waist and pulled her in close against him. His lips grew soft against hers as she traced her hands up his chest to rest lightly on either side of his face. Bren drew back slowly, his face hovering inches from her.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Claire,” he said, his voice breathy and low. “I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t even stop to consider your feelings.”

  She flushed and drew him down for another kiss. Only this time a lot more gentle. Her hands wound their way around his neck, standing on her tiptoes to do so. Her stomach tied itself in knots as a wave of heat washed over her. It was a wholly welcome distraction to the stressful evening and she wanted to take full advantage of it before the General changed his mind. After a few blissful moments, she drew back from him and gazed at his lips, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

  “The only thing you should be sorry about is the location, General.” Her heart and mind still tried to catch up to the current situation.

  Bren looked around him as if he suddenly realized where he was. He loosened his hold on her and backed up a step. Claire’s hands fell limply to her side.

  “Yes, I see.” He ran his fingers through his hair and looked down at the ground. “How about a bath, Miss Claire?”

  Claire’s eyes widened. Surely he didn’t mean what she thought. “Although I’m flattered, it is a bit too soon, General,” she said, her hand went up to her chest in mock surprise.

  He waved his hands in front of him in a frantic manner. “No, no. What I meant was I found an inn earlier…”

  “General!” Claire gasped. His sudden bashfulness surprised her and she couldn’t just let him get away without having a little bit of fun. “I’m not that kind of girl.” She put her hands
on her hips.

  “Miss Claire, that’s not what I meant either!” He sighed heavily in frustration.

  Claire gave him a playful punch on the arm. “Consider it vengeance for earlier.”

  The anguish melted from his face. “Of course, Miss Claire.”

  “And a bath sounds wonderful.” She took his arm in her hands and beamed up at him. “Lead the way, General.”

  The inn was nestled snugly between two taverns bursting with life at the peak of their business for the night. So much for sleep, although she didn’t know how much she would have gotten otherwise. Bren’s actions overrode much of her thoughts. His kiss still burned on her lips. It was nice to be distracted.

  Quiet and tavern-less, the lobby resembled the brothel, minus the women. Thankfully. The town probably had enough taverns and other types of entertainment in order to make the inn successful without the need for a bar. Claire reveled in the surprising quietness.

  Bren led her up the stairs and to the end of the hallway and handed her a brass key attached to a ribbon.

  “Sleep well, Miss Claire.” He took her hand in his and bent to lay a soft kiss against her skin.

  The simple action sent shivers down her spine. Yep, no sleep tonight. “You too, Bren.” She grasped the key tightly in her hand against her chest.

  She watched as he disappeared around the corner down another hall and collapsed against the door. She turned around and pressed her forehead against the smooth wood. It was all just too much. With a deep breath, she inserted the key into the door.

  White walls greeted her. Red sheets covered bed with matching curtains that framed a large square window. She stopped in the doorway. Maybe this had been a brothel, at one point at least. She shrugged and began to search the room for a robe, desperate for a bath and some sleep. She wondered briefly what had happened to the elves but brushed the thought aside. They were big boys. Surely they could take care of themselves.