Court of Flowers (Sutherland Book 1)

II | The Flower

Belcourt was known to the Kingdom of Sutherland to be a prominent orphanage for young girls.

And it was also known to rear the most dangerous beauties—the Belles, the only moniker people knew of all Belcourt ladies.

They did not know the truth, however. Not the entire truth, that is, for they were quite right about the Belles, young ladies from Belcourt who came into their towns to live a good life with the best faculties that Belcourt was responsible for. They were trained to entertain through music, acting, and most of all, seduction.

For the people outside of Belcourt, all children in Belcourt were Belles, the only name they knew ladies of Belcourt to be. They were the kind of women other ladies were wary of—even despised. They stole their husbands, fiancés, and anything else that desired them within or outside their premises.

The people did not know that the Belles came from just a small fraction that comprised the entire Belcourt. They were ignorant of the existence of the other courts as they only knew of the orphanage, the façade of Belcourt. And they only knew of the women—the Belles—who came out of Belcourt, threatening their society, calling themselves ladies, as if they were titled.

Pretentious little wenches, some would say. Ambitious, others would agree.

They were children of bad blood; daughters of the lowest stations; bastards of men who made a mistake; or of women who were so naïve and careless.

Unwanted children raised to be wanted by men.

Yet they were addressed as ladies because that was how Belles were addressed—because Belcourt said so. And because the kingdom never bothered to correct them. And because they all lived in lavish villas fit for a lady of good social standing.

Sasha stared blankly at the edifice before her.

Its wide façade exuded elegance, grace, and innocence.

She was not elegant. She was not graceful either.

But she was innocent.

No one knew that. She was not expected to be innocent, not when she was a Belle.

The cold winter wind blew against her, causing a shiver up her spine.

What had she done to deserve this?

Many other ladies from the other courts would question her reaction, for she knew most had dreamed to be a Belle, to be in the Court of Flowers. Who wouldn't?

Unlike the others, Belles had the best gowns. They owned their villa outside of Belcourt. They graced balls and social functions. They had servants. They had a life outside the walls of the vast Belcourt estate.

No one seemed to care that they had to pay with their virtues so long as they could be a part of society again, the very same society that shunned them one way or another.

Sasha never wanted to return to society because here the world was harsh.

It was unforgiving.

It was real.

Any fantasies she had after Belcourt opened its doors for her that one rainy evening fifteen years ago was just recently shattered, piecing itself back together into this white edifice standing tall and elegant before her. Inside were more elegance, she knew that.

She would have a staff of people provided for her by Belcourt, from Belcourt, ready to do her bidding as their mistress.

She would have her maid.

She had her horse and carriage.

But this villa was a prison.

She could not do any of her research here. There would be no rooms or halls of books for her to consume. No subjects to test, presenting her problems to burn her candles down to the base at night. There would be nothing here but a fabricated life. Here, she was naught but a lady from Belcourt, one who was just set free from the orphanage to start a new life, and for most people who had very little knowledge of Belcourt, that life would be filled with sin and lust and greed. They were opportunistic, insensitive whores, others would say. And to some, they were of free spirits, of free reign.