"Thank you for coming with me, Naylin," Siobhan said as she adjusted the front of her dress. She pulled it as low as it could go before becoming improper, a common sight among the female patrons of Rosie's. Though she wasn't gifted with an abundance of size, the tightness of the corset under the dress made her appear bigger than she was. It was awkward and uncomfortable, almost so tight she couldn't breathe. Women who wore a dress like this on a regular basis baffled her. Hell, wearing a dress on a regular basis was strange. Pants were so much more comfortable to her. They were better for riding, better for hunting, and generally better overall.
"Of course, M'lady." Naylin sat on the edge of Siobhan's bed, surrounded by three remaining bags. The way she crossed her legs made her look more like a child than a young woman. Her dark hair hung in a loose mess against her skin. She was too young to be in a place like Rosie's and far too young to be on her own. Though she claimed to be nineteen, Siobhan was suspicious.
"For the rest of my stay here, when we're in earshot of anyone else, do not call me M'lady. If you need me to have Rosie instruct you of this, I will. It's imperative that I'm nobody of importance. If anyone asks, I am Ilene and I'm here for a good time. Wren doesn't exist, you've never seen him, you don't know him, understand?"
"Nay, I dunna understand. Perhaps it's better this way. I heard tales of these Vanguard Generals, so less I know may help."
"Perhaps." Siobhan sighed. "Can you handle those three bags at once?"
"If the crimson-cloaks, are already here then I will need you to take them to Elias and be as discreet as possible. If they aren't here, we'll go together."
"I is yer servant."
"No, you're my friend. If we didn't need to keep up certain appearances, I wouldn't be asking you to carry my bags."
Naylin frowned. "Ya aren't like other ladies I've met who frequent Rosie's. They care more about getting a good lay then other people."
"That's because I'm not a lady." Siobhan winked. "Come, let's go and hope they're not here yet."
"If I could make a suggestion first." Naylin slipped off the bed and scurried to Siobhan. She didn't wait for approval before grabbing Siobhan's hair. The braids hung free as Naylin worked on the rest of the hair. "Most ladies who come here tie their hair up. I asked some of the male entertainers why, and they say it's because it saves time. Hair out of the way, freedom for . . .uh . . . lips I guess."
Siobhan laughed at the color tinting Naylin's dark cheeks. "Easier access to the neck. Understood."
Naylin stepped away and adjusted the loose braids to hang over Siobhan's shoulders. When she tilted her head, she swished her lips from side to side. One hand reached for Siobhan's head and pulled on some of the tangled strands not holding in place, making them frame Siobhan's narrow face. They curved over Siobhan's chin and merged with the loose braids.
"It's sloppy," she said, "but best I can do without more string for the hair. Ya look more like one of our regulars, even if not quite dressed as scantily. I'll grab the bags."
"Thank you, Naylin. I'm going down first in case they're here."
The normally boisterous crowd of Rosie's was still nowhere to be found when Siobhan reached the bottom of the stairs. Outside, the sun had reached its slumber for the night. At that time it should've been wall to wall with men and women looking for a good time. Instead, it was Rosie's entertainers sitting at several tables with their heads bowed. Rosie herself was scuttling behind the bar, a place she normally wouldn't dare touch, grabbing glass after glass. One hand worked a tattered rag over each glass, though Siobhan saw no evidence of them needing cleaning. Her lips fluttered in a small smile when she caught sight of Siobhan. It didn't take Siobhan long to see why Rosie kept cleaning her wine glasses.
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Draygon Frost | Book 1 | ✔️Fantasy
To hell with everyone. That's Siobhan's motto. Not even her loyal mentor Elias can strip her of her desire to barter passage to Ardorn where she can live without fear of her past catching up to her, a past that destroyed everything she loved. Stre...