⌘ Common ⌘ Rakahi ⌘ Euthic Sign ⌘ Grovokian ⌘
22nd of Vhalar, 707 ArcThe floor was marble, and her worn slippers sighed softly with each footstep she took. Navyri was guided deeper inside the establishment, her hand being held gently by a young man with a charming smile and freckles that dusted the peak of his cheekbones. She liked that, she realized, wanting to run her fingers along the small dots, and smiled when he looked back at her, “Navyri, right?”
“Yes.” The way he had pronounced it had been charming with his accent, and he released her, moving towards the ornate desk standing proudly along the right corner upon entrance. A woman sat behind it, auburn hair as bright as the Vhalar leaves outside, and her brows rose in interest as she eyed Navyri and then harlot that had lead her.
“Did you find a pet, Mateo?”
Navyri frowned, crossing her arms. The woman was perhaps in her thirties, but still her junior. Had she not looked so young, nor needed the services or these people as much as she did, the Naerikk would have been quick to remind her to respect her elders. The lesson would not have been a pleasant one at that, but even with her irritation, Mateo seemed to ease the tension with a smooth wave in her direction.
“Navyri is no pet, Ava. If anything, I am hers,” he turned slightly and flashed the shadow woman a wink, that smile melting away her irritation like flame to a candle, “Those eyes…” he sighed, a bit more dramatic than necessary, but seemed to recall his purpose and looked back at the glorified receptionist, “Call upon the Madame, won’t you? I’d like to arrange accommodations for my friend.”
Ava opened her mouth as if to protest but it seemed too troublesome to do so and she shrugged in agreement. When she rose to her feet, Navyri did a double take, realizing that she had been completely topless behind the divide, and she had simply not noticed from her vantage point. The woman’s skin was flawless, a deep tan with gold henna swirling from her neckline down her chest and curling around perky nipples. She wore a few necklaces the swished against her naval, attracting the eye downwards to where her sheer skirt hung low, a slit trailing up almost to her hip. If Mateo was surprised, he didn’t show it. In fact, nothing about the scenario seemed startling to him in the slightest, and he extended a hand again, wrapping it around her waist and stealing her thoughts, “Do you like it?”
“What?”
“Ava. Her outfit. Her.” he smiled knowingly and she felt his warm hand drawing circles upon the small of her back. It was very distracting.
“Ah-” Navyri had never been asked this question before, but she knew its meaning. She was in a brothel, and if the overly lush decoration, and enticing smell of incense didn’t give it away, the faint thuds and choked moans coming from the second story would have, “She is… attractive, but I have other preferences.”
“Other preferences?” Mateo laughed and pulled her closer, his cologne washing over them as he took on a teasing manner, “Men?” his hand stopped its movements and slide further down her spine, right as it began to curve and dip, “Or me?” Navyri could feel his muscles pressing against her left side, and was surprised by how flustered she was becoming around the escort. Since she was a child (or at least by Naerikk standards), men of other races have been showing interest, fawning over her looks and yet... Mateo was more than just gruff compliments and shy boyish glances. He was confident and experienced. Seductive and adaptable to his clientele, he could read body language with expertise and knew when to pursue certain interests, and how to do so. Beside him, Navyri felt vulnerable to his will.
Daring to meet his eye, the Naer shrugged out of his grip, dipping beneath his arm like a cat, her hand trailing down his arm as she separated their bodies, “Men,” she looked up, and the sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway caught her ear, “But you’re nice too.”
“Nice?” This seemed to amuse him greatly, his soft brown eyes brightening with mischief, “Do you know what I like about you, Navyri?” he said her name tauntingly, emphasizing each syllable, stepping closer to control the space once more. Navyri held her ground, not quite sure she wanted to keep them apart, “You don’t seem nice at all.” His strong fingers weaved into her own and he lifted her hand to brush her knuckles against his lips, “Not. One. Bit.”
With his free hand, he stroked her arm, his dark eyes trailing to the blessed feather markings that lined her arms, fascinated as they swayed gently from his breath like magic. She was grinning, and his fingers trailed along the sensitive skin of her inner arm, and she bit her lip from the electricity that seemed to run straight up her spine.
A rich voice like satin pulled them from their reverie, “From the looks of it, I believe I’ve forgotten who is the escort and who is the client. Mateo...” Expecting him to release her, Navyri started to pull away, but his hand stayed firm but gentle holding hers. He watched her for a moment longer before speaking.
“Madame,” he turned towards the woman in charge, and Navyri could see why. In fact, the young Naer gasped, mouth parting slightly as she stared at the woman before her. She was stunning, but young looking, appearing no more than mid-twenties, but carried herself with such… commanding power. Wearing a sleeveless red dress tailored perfectly, her arms were exposed and rich tattoos lined her shoulders and down her arms, symbols like that of a foreign novel. Her chin was held high and her dark hair was skillfully braided like a crown upon her head. The Madame’s eyes were a bright purple, strange but familiar. It reminded Navyri of her grandmother. It reminded her of home. Of Augiery.
She waved aside Mateo, who let go of Navyri with a lingering touch. She took one step and spoke, “You’re Naerikk,” the Madam clasped her hands in front of her waist, her heels clicking against the stone as she circled her, “Young.”
Navyri’s ether markings were covered by the clothes she wore, but something else seemed to give her away. “Only a Naer could make one of my best men putty in their hands,” The Madame stepped closer and Navyri finally noticed the way her outline hesitated to follow her, the dark shadow bleeding from her form.
“As are you,” Navyri’s words weren’t accusatory but sounded more awestruck than anything. How long had it been since she had been around someone of her own kind? She fumbled with her words, the Gravokian strained in her throat, “Is this your home?” Quickly she created a loose pointer finger, barely noticeable in the direction of Mateo, rubbing her wrist if it were sore. Euthic sign, holding the wrist like a shackle, she asked, You own him?
The Madame smirked, mirth in her eyes as she made a small wave of her fingers as if encompassing the entire room. She answered in Gravokian, and while Navyri had a hard time translating it perfectly, she understood enough, “This is our palace. Our home is with the Mother.” Augiery. She returned her hand in front of her, this time not lacing her fingers, but holding one wrist, smiling politely. Both signs said, I own them all.
“Madame?” Mateo was speaking up, pulling the attention of both shadow women, “I was hoping to take Navyri to my room.” It was a request for permission, a strange thing for a prostitute to do. Madame seemed to sense this and blinked slowly, her kohl-lined eyes assessing him and then Navyri.
“Has your fee been settled?”
No, Navyri almost replied. Mateo had said nothing about a fee. Instead, she remained silent, watching the interaction silently. There was much to learn in how to run a business here. Mateo shook his head, “No, Madame. I would like my time spent with Navyri uncharged.”
The older Naer chuckled, but it seemed disingenuous, “You’re asking me to lose money?” Madame spared a glance at Navyri and addressed her sternly, once more in Gravokian, “Where are you staying?”
She looked between the two but found her voice, her Gravokian more obviously broken than before, “On our boat, on sea.” The Madame quickly noticed that she was not as fluent as previously thought and frowned in displeasure. Mateo, unsure of the conversation, but sensing a change in mood began to open his mouth, but the Naerikk’s raised hand silenced him immediately. Ava, who had returned to the other woman, had remained quiet the entire time, returning to her seat behind the desk and resuming her bookkeeping duties.
The Madame spoke, “Very well. But-” she lifted a finger in warning, her dark claws finely manicured and threatening, “You serve customers if they ask for you. You will meet your minimums and if for one second, I believe you are too distracted or tired from your time spent with her, you will be punished. Do I make myself abundantly clear?” Her voice was now laced with danger.
“Yes.”
The Madame narrowed her eyes and then smiled, relieving the room of the tension, “Good.” To Navyri, “We are family. Stay, but do not burden us. Perhaps we can work together? You already have great skill, but much to learn.”
With that, the Madam turned away, and Mateo began to eagerly lead her to his room, leaving Navyri to ponder the words she understood and didn’t. Gravokian was a very complex language with unique pronunciation, difficult for her to recall and piece together. Any words fizzled out on her tongue until the Madame was out of sight; she didn’t know what to say.
(To be continued...
Word count: 1654)
