CHINESE ARYA STARK meets THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA.
*A Wattpad Featured story*
When everyone wears a mask, who do you trust?
In the unforgiving empire of Erden where the Imperials reign supreme, Sarna is a slave. After escaping the brothel where a m...
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"It's not hard to commit a crime. The hardest part is to stop committing it once you're used to it."
Bazhe to Lingyu—A Hymn of High Demons
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Standing there and watching the General's back fade into the darkness, every rational thought fled my mind. My gaze fell onto the coins lying on the dirty floor to the open door, and finally to the sword buckled to the waist of a soldier.
Bastard. Bastard. Bastard.
Coldness enveloped every part of me, urging me to bend down and retrieve the money, to leave the court and follow Lord Hua.
Why should I? I couldn't stop him even if I wanted to.
The woman Lord Hua had just assaulted suddenly walked up to my table, gave me a shaky nod, and started clearing the table. With still-trembling hands, she swept the china onto a steel tray, but she accidentally knocked over the teapot. It fell onto the ground with a loud smash, jagged pieces of porcelain scattering everywhere.
She let out a soft cry of despair, knelt down, and gathered the broken pieces. In her haste, she cut her finger, and blood splattered the dust-coated floor.
A flare of coldness shot through my body as the sharp, coppery smell of blood hit me. I knelt beside the woman and helped her clean up the mess.
"Thank you," she whispered.
She looked so tired. Her cheeks were hollowed, and her eyes were devoid of hope. Too plain to be a pleasure-woman, she was cast to the kitchens where she would spend the rest of her live serving the Imperials, enduring her suffering in silence.
Blood was still dripping from the cut on her palm.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
"Take care, sister." I straightened up, grabbed the coins off the table, and left the hut.
The Pavilion was a large and luxurious building near the Jade Palace, founded and paid for by the first Imperial family. It was their promise to their generals and allies—to sate their desires and keep them in line. The Pavilion was shaped like a pagoda, boasting ten levels. Tassels covered in glitter hung from the rafters, and pleasure girls hung out at the balconies, waving their silk handkerchiefs and giggling so loud, they could be heard from a mile away.
I stood at the arched doorway of the building, staring at the black sign which proclaimed its name in glory. Once, I had stood here, my tiny frame shadowed by the people around me, discussing my worth.
I'd expected to feel fear, but I was dangerously calm. There were no palpitating heartbeats, no shortness of breaths. I was aware of the women swathed in perfume dancing around me, their arms looped around their clients as they went into their respective rooms, the sound of money clinking onto tables and being exchanged, and the thick smell of dragonwood swathing the entire ground floor.
