A safe place? No, but Sainte wouldn’t think to look for me here. I pulled myself out of the throng and stumbled into the lovers’ lane.
The fine hairs on the nape of my neck raised as if someone watched me, but surely Ethyan held that draw long enough to give me a head start.
That or he could have shot him in the leg.
Or arm.
Or crotch.
I wouldn’t be mad about any of those outcomes.
“Well hello there, girly.” A prostitute lifted a thin brow, appraising me as if I were her next meal.
I glanced her way and grimaced. Was it possible to catch a disease by just looking at someone? Her lips were bruised and swollen but painted red, as though that made them more attractive. She was plump, but her hand-me-down corset was so tight it creased her bust, as if it couldn’t support the sagging things any longer. Her hair was an unnatural purple shade, littered with mats that hadn’t been brushed out in gods knew how long.
I coughed, keeping hold of my coin purse. “A copper.”
“Oh honey, you’re not gonna have much fun with that.” Her leer lingered over my frame.
“I only need a few hours.”
“At a copper?!” She threw her head back and cackled.
I was desperate, not stupid. I would not throw all my coin at a whorehouse and not have any to bribe my way out of a guard’s hands later.
“Off to the hag district, sweets. Even the inexperienced cost more than that!”
So be it. “Where would that be?”
“You sure? You’ll catch more than just a bit of fun, if you catch my meaning,” she crooned, shuffling closer.
I gritted my teeth and held my ground as a musty-sweet scent rolled over me—cloying incense and cheap perfume hung about her like a cloud.
“Where?” My tone sharpened with my impatience.
“At the end, to the left.”
Her burst of laughter sprayed my face with spittle. Stuck between a scowl and a gag, I rushed off, hoping it didn’t appear as if I fled. With any luck, an old hag would gladly accept a coin and let me be, allowing me to wait out Sainte undisturbed. I doubted a hag would be up to any… promiscuous activities, anyway.
I kept my head down and pace quick. Neither patrons nor workers spared me a glance. Albeit the lewd district was a deadend, it was the best place to hide from good folk. Sainte probably fell under that description. He rescued a tiny, helpless child after all. Never mind that he crushed my heart and abandoned me. I couldn’t picture him walking through here, let alone taking advantage of the services offered.
Men had their needs, didn’t they? Ethyan often dallied with tavern wenches. I didn’t share in those desires, but weren’t all men alike? I’m sure a good handful were loyal to their wives.
That thought pulled at my frown. Sainte never spoke of a family. A wife. Babes. Surely, he didn’t have any.
I don’t know why I seemed to need convincing of that.
At the deadend, I turned left where a pair of suboptimal guards sat at a table smoking some suspicious herb, though the rank concoction in their drinks was far more unpleasant. They eyed me in passing and went back to their game of chance, happy to ignore me as much as I ignored them.
Old women slumped on stools and crates along the grime-covered street, backs propped against their little huts made of driftwood and scraps. As I strolled by, they barely stirred, their eyes mere slivers of interest. A handful appeared as still as statues, prompting me to question if they drew breath or had silently slipped into oblivion, and no one cared to move them. The smell certainly didn’t seem to belong to anything living.
A rasped word to my right pulled my notice. She was old—far older than I expected to find here. Her thin, wispy hair was grimy and peppered with lint. Her eyes were cloudy, and she lacked a good amount of teeth. Age spots flecked her face and scalp. Her hut was small, but large enough for two people to sit in… or do other things.
“A copper?” I murmured, stepping closer.
“Bless you.”
Her voice was as dry as the skin on her hands as she took the coin from my palm. Covered in a blanket from head to toe, she shuffled into her hut. I followed close on her heels, turning around to drop the cloth door into place.
