Queen of Night

1. The Witch's Vision

    Iyan leaned back on her heels and wiped some sweat from her brow. Despite the chilly autumn air outside, the inside of Sparrowhaven's brothel was stifling. She let herself catch her breath for a moment, then went back to scrubbing the floors.

    Heavy footsteps thumped on the stone behind her. Iyan glanced up and found her employer, Derek Avery, watching her. He sneered and kicked over her bucket. Murky soap filled water drenched the floor. Iyan swallowed and willed herself not to say anything. She grabbed the bucket and stood.

    "Aren't you tired of drudgery?" Derek called as she began walking back towards the kitchen. "You'd be making a much larger wage if you'd follow your sister's example."

    Iyan ignored him, as usual. Unlike her older sister, she had some self respect. Asena might make more money than she did, but her methods were more than displeasing. Still, the income from those methods had kept Iyan alive when she was younger.

    Iyan entered the kitchen and began pumping water into her bucket. A familiar brown haired woman waited for her. Lucille slid a few pieces of soap into the water and stirred it until it began to bubble.

    "Thanks." Iyan gave her a smile.

    "Derek is awful to you for no reason," Lucille replied. "Why don't you ever stand up to him?"

    "Because he's the only reason Asena and I are alive."

    Understanding and sympathy shone in Lucille's blue eyes. Iyan lifted the heavy bucket out of the sink and returned to the hallway. There was no sign of Derek, thankfully. She grabbed her brush and carried on with her work.

    Iyan's thoughts wandered while she worked, as they often did. If it weren't for Derek, we would probably be dead right now, she thought. Then again, perhaps being dead would be better than a life like this. She paused, a bruise on her side beginning to ache. Iyan rubbed it gingerly, then scrubbed some more.

    "Weren't you cleaning this hall earlier?" Iyan looked up as Asena approached. Her sister wore a fine outfit and her auburn hair was piled atop her head in an elaborate style.

    "Going somewhere?" Iyan huffed.

    "My next client set up a private appointment."

    "Why do you say it like that?" Iyan stopped scrubbing and met her sister's gaze. "Why don't you say it like it is? You're not some wealthy courtesan, and that wouldn't even be a step up from what you are."

    Asena's eyes snapped with anger. "Spare me your self righteous criticism. I do what I have to to survive, just like you."

    "You had a choice. You could've been a maid, but you chose the other option," Iyan shot back.

    "A maid's wages wouldn't keep the two of us clothed and fed! I made a promise to Mother and Father. I kept that promise the best I could. You're alive and relatively safe."

    "If being beaten and groped every day is what you call relatively safe, then I suppose you're right."

    Asena's mouth curled into a frown and she kicked over Iyan's bucket. She lifted her skirts and breezed past the growing puddle. Iyan stared after her, her hands trembling with rage. She stood and threw her brush at the ground.

    Iyan stormed down the hall and grabbed her ragged cloak off a hook. She picked up the basket that lay beneath it. She made sure to slam the front door on her way out.

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    The marketplace was bustling as usual. Despite herself, Iyan relished the crowd. Here, she was nobody. She could go about her business without worrying about displeasing someone. She paused by a vendor's stall.