22— The House of Pleasure  

Seated in the dining room with its handsome frescoes and gleaming French doors, through which the Bay of Sorrows was visible in the lingering twilight, Sorykah waited, biting her nails at the thought of meeting the infamous Chen, who so deeply etched his claim on Sidra the Lovely’s heart that there was no untouched space left for any other.

A maid brought bread, butter and salt. Another sauntered in and poured wine, catching a dribble with her fingertip and licking it off once she had Sorykah’s eye. The two women giggled and the wine bearer bent low, flashing her expansive décolletage as she spooned broth from a tureen into a shallow bowl and set it before her guest. Sorykah blushed and looked away, disturbed by the flirtatious tittering.

A portly butler followed the maids, pinching their cheeks and slapping their bottoms. A current of small talk flowed from the kitchen staff as translucent china plates were laid, dinner kept warm beneath shining silver domes while awaiting Chen’s arrival.

Slathering butter on a broken roll, the man sprinkled salt across its yeasty rise and offered it to Sorykah, his merry blue eyes twinkling. Acute embarrassment ravaged her; she had no choice but to eat from his fingertips

The broad doors parted and Chen strode in, cocky and over-confident, lithe and handsome in the way of rogues and scoundrels. His black leathers, jersey and boots sucked up the available light; only the bloody red spill of his velvet robe kept the shadows from swallowing him whole. He nodded in her direction and seated himself at the table’s far end, delving into his meal without preliminary.

Chen’s obvious disinterest in her plight panicked her until she remembered Sidra’s instructions: “Do not look at your food while eating, no matter what takes place or what he says to goad you into doing so. It’s the only way he’ll recognize you as my emissary, and he alone can reveal the secret of the lock. Should you fail in this, you will forfeit your claim to your children.”

Sorykah used a pair of fiercely pointed, foot-long eating sticks to spear a chunk of something from her plate. Keeping her eyes trained on Chen, Sorykah struggled to not look down. Vague shapes danced on her plate’s periphery, something like a colorful tangle of julienned vegetables and small cuts of sauced meat that made her think of tinned dog food. Chen was sullen, his handsome face drawn up in a scowl. A lock of black hair draped into his plate and curled in the sauce. He flicked it back and continued eating, washing down his food with great swigs of the heady red wine a serving girl constantly replenished.

The atmosphere was tense and silent. Although he had provided Sorykah with every luxury, Chen was a terrible host.

Sorykah found something solid enough to balance on the carefully suspended eating sticks, raised them to her mouth, and pricked the inside of her cheek. Wincing, she rubbed the sore spot with her tongue as blood welled against her teeth.

Chen glanced up, his eagle eyes keen.

Sorykah pressed a cloth napkin to her lips to stanch the flow, glad that they were a dark ruby red so that the blood wouldn’t show. Chen did not inquire after her health nor did he rush to provide first aid for his wounded guest. Instead, he gestured for her to continue eating. His stare intensified as she blundered across her plate. Keeping her gaze trained on his scowl, Sorykah continued eating though her cheeks burned and her head swam with the effort of meeting his eyes.

Chen banged his fist upon the table. The vibration traveled the length of the wooden planks and Sorykah jumped, narrowly avoiding putting out an eye with her eating sticks.

“Where is she?” he snarled.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Sorykah attempted insouciance, but her voice faltered.

Wait for him to speak my name, Sidra had insisted. The whole charade would be meaningless otherwise.

“You bloody well do know what I mean! She sent you! You’ve given me the signal, enjoyed the extravagance of my hospitality, and now I want what’s due.” Chen strode down the table’s left flank and closed in on her. Sorykah laid aside the beautiful eating sticks and folded her hands in her lap. Chen arrived like a smoking dragon, all fire and fury, spitting sparks and steam. “What does she want?”

Sorykah shook her head.

“Is she here then, lurking about in the gardens, enjoying a laugh at my expense?”

Again, Sorykah shook her head.

Chen crouched beside her, softening his tone and stance. “You and I both know that she deposited you on my doorstep. Only the very foolish would dare to venture here unawares. You either have a mission or a message, now, which is it?”

Fear percolated inside her and a lump swelled in her throat. Would this man help her? Sidra had seemed so sure, but Sorykah doubted him. A rich man living an indolent life, master of his own tiny fiefdom and intent on pleasure and sin, how could she persuade him to give up his father?

“You must say her name,” she whispered.

Chen snorted and Sorykah smelled wine on his breath. He rubbed a hand though his thick hair and groaned. “By god, that woman loves to crank the screws. You wouldn’t know that I have taken a vow never to say her name aloud. You don’t, but she does. Spies in this house, no doubt. She forces my hand at every turn!” Chen paced alongside the table, his robe trailing the stone floor. “And if I don’t?”

“Then she knows you no longer love her, and she will abandon you forever. She’s said as much.” Sorykah chewed the inside of her cheek. Hold steady, you can do this.

“Why should I care? Tell me, why should I care what she does? She’d sooner tend wild beasts than share my life here, being pampered and indulged, her every whim gratified. Doesn’t she know I do this all for her?”

Sorykah thought he didn’t understand his ladylove very well to think her so easily swayed by material comforts. “That’s not what moves her. She has an extraordinary gift. She is a healer, a leader, truly a queen. Do you not see that? Don’t you know that an idle life would be meaningless to her?”

“Idle!” barked Chen. “How dare you deem me so spoiled!”

Sorykah crumpled beneath his angry tirade and for the first time, looked down at the food she had eaten. Fragrant slivers of meat marinated in spiced gravy. Candied kumquats and star fruit fanned out along the rim of the plate, adding color and sweetness to a nest of shaved root vegetables. She had to admire the presentation. If nothing else, Chen and his staff had an adept and sensual eye for beauty.

“Bah!” Chen paced the floor and Sorykah recognized the same driven restlessness his aunt had displayed in the throes of her oenathe rapture.

“Oh for goodness sake!” She lifted her head, suddenly tired of his lover’s theatrics. “She’s willing to see you if you help me. If you aren’t so foolish and addled to grant her wish then you should meet with her and resolve your dispute.” Pursing her lips with a surprising new stubbornness that had gained ground over the course of her journey, Sorykah met Chen’s challenge.

“Look,” she sighed, “I need your help. I’m desperate. And I will do whatever it takes…”

Chen’s smirking mouth quirked up in curious surprise.

“Anything,” Sorykah amended, “that I can give with a clean conscience in order to secure your assistance.”

Chen rubbed a long-fingered hand over his flat abdomen and considered Sorykah. She caught his dark, glittering eye and for the first time, stripped away her protective skin, revealing herself and her terrifying, wondrous secret. “My name is Sorykah Minuit. I am a Trader.”

Chen shook his head in disbelief. He thought her joking but when he read the resignation etched on her face, he exhaled with a low whistle. “The stories are true, then.”

She nodded. “All true. And more, I’m afraid.”

Chen leaned forward to stare at Sorykah with liquid eyes. She reddened and looked away. His lean, brooding face and expressive brows were quite handsome. Black hair tumbled in lazy waves over his shoulders and his curiosity was a tangible thing vibrating the air between them.

“In all my years, I’ve never met one such as you,” he murmured.

Here we go, thought Sorykah, steeling herself for the inevitable approach. The word Trader invoked a salacious reaction that conscientious people attempted to constrain, but there were always those whose lecherous curiosity required satisfaction. Sorykah had overheard some of the miners on the Nimbus describe a party where ordinary men and women mimicked her own natural ability, engaging in unconventional games of seduction and gender play. Ironic that they should regard her as the pinnacle of sensual desire and satisfaction when her own sexual experiences had been so unsatisfactory.

Sorykah forced herself to remember Sidra slinking through the Erun, her eyes upon this distant isle, awaiting the all-clear. Sorykah little doubted that Chen’s sorrow made him a tempting challenge to the ladies of the manor. Many a maid had tried to woo him away from his lost love and might possess him for a night or two, but his heart would remain as steadfast as it was untouchable.

 “Let’s adjourn to the salon. We’ll be much more comfortable there and then you can tell me your story without interruption.” Chen rose and offered his arm. 

Something (fear? desire?) fluttered in her throat as she threaded her hand through his arm, stepping close to the tall male body with its exotic scents of leather, wine and spicy plum. Chen escorted her through the library (where she could gaze up through the ceiling-glass of her bathtub into the candlelit Rose Room), past several whist-playing courtesans who nibbled chocolate truffles and watched them enter the indigo salon with a knowing gleam in their eyes and a smirk on their shiny lips.

“Please, seat yourself,” Chen gestured to one of many pillows heaped upon the plush, carpeted floor. He settled near her, stretching out long legs, his hand settling on Sorykah’s primly crossed knees.

“When’s the last time you had a good meal?” His hot fingers roamed over the bones prominent beneath her skin.

She couldn’t help laughing as she answered, “About five minutes ago!”

He grinned, the right corner of his mouth curling up higher than the left. “Have you enjoyed your time here? Found everything to your liking?”

She nodded, considering the hot, peppered chocolate served in bed, the violet foam baths and the cloud-soft bed in the gorgeous Rose Room.

“I understand that you were most accommodating to my young patissier. He had very kind things to say about your”— Chen’s smoldering eyes slid over Sorykah’s frame with approval — “hospitality.”

She blushed a deep rose, recalling handsome Elu in her bed.

“Word travels fast. We have so little new flesh to enjoy and gossip is one of life’s spiciest pleasures.” His smile seemed to melt by degrees as he rang the bell pull to summon a maid. As if on cue, she entered the room bearing an ornate glass tray laden with bon-bons and petit fours topped with candied rose petals and gold leaf.

“A gift from Elu,” Chen said, popping one of the tiny cakes into his mouth. “Mmm, if the taste is any indication of his affection for you, it seems that you enjoyed each other even more than I thought.”

Sorykah’s gaze floated towards the silk-tented ceiling, the lush white orchids—anything but Chen. His hand spider-walked from her knee to the dangling lacing string of her bodice. He curled it around a finger and tugged. The traitorous bow unfurled.

“A real live Trader, here in my house. How did I get to be so lucky? Do you know what a night with you is worth?”

She shook her head. She refused to learn about such things.

“The price of Trader flesh is very dear. Even with all my wealth,” Chen swept his hand around the expensively appointed room, “I could not afford you.”

Sorykah was astonished. She could not imagine her ordinary body being deemed such a treasure. If only she had the moxie to sell herself!

Chen wormed a finger beneath the hem of her borrowed gown. “It’s no accident that the fates have delivered you to me. I believe someone has been kind enough to set the stage for a most delightful exchange.”

A little ripple of heat bubbled, built, and spread, setting the blood racing beneath her skin.

“Each of us has something the other wants and if my instincts are right, you are willing to pay any price to take it from me. Am I right?”

Sorykah shifted on the slippery pillows, fanning her throat as she deliberated upon an answer. Chen pursed his lips, already keen to possess the prize he was certain was his for the taking. A rush of sensual energy invigorated him as he unlaced her bodice. Sorykah met his eyes, and he read the acquiescence displayed in her own dark gaze.

Here was a fruit ripe for the plucking, and him with his cherry picker at the ready…

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