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“And then what?” he asked excitedly.
“They agree on the arrangement with Madam Langley and retire to a room.”
He blushed, thinking of the discussions that took place. Unless they enjoyed that kind of play…
This was undoubtedly much more civilized than what he was used to. Alleyways, stairwells, sometimes on his knees on a short carriage ride. Never a private room and a bed, for goodness’ sake. And Madam Langley clearly had good instincts about whom she allowed in her establishment, because none of these men exuded darker auras—at least no darker than the deep purple of passion, conveying their desire.
Galen watched as a tall, bulky gentleman wearing a white brocade waistcoat approached Wren and Sparrow. They must’ve known him because Wren smiled coyly, and Sparrow blushed when the man whispered in his ear. The man winked at Wren as if they were all in on a secret, then took both their flowers. The twins’ hands clasped tighter, and going by their auras, which had turned even more luminescent, and their bent heads and animated murmurs, they were more than eager about what was to come.
“How does this work with the twins?” Galen asked Miss Celestine.
“They can only be requested as a pair. Madam Langley’s rule.”
“What does that mean?” he asked over his shoulder, barely able to tear his gaze away from them.
“Well, I don’t know exactly… I’ve only heard rumors…” She reddened when he gave her a cursory glance, and then busied herself with the broom and dustpan.
He didn’t want to push for more information, but now his interest was definitely piqued.
He stood frozen behind the doorway, captivated by the scene before him. Men lined up three-deep to speak to Madam Langley about the evening’s arrangements, with flowers dangling from their fingers.
“You should probably go before you’re discovered,” Miss Celestine warned.
“Only a bit longer, I promise.”
When a gentleman with brown hair that was graying at the temples and a black jacket of fine threads approached Azriel, Galen stood riveted. Azriel smiled shyly, and Galen didn’t think it was coquettish. He got the impression Azriel looked forward to his evening with the customer.
As the handsome gentleman spoke softly to him, Galen watched Azriel fidget but not in an uncomfortable way. In fact, the gentleman’s blue aura matched Azriel’s in the strangest of ways, like overlapping lapis lazulis winding their own little paths.
The gentleman’s hue, however, ran much deeper around the edges, resembling the sky at midnight, like a quilt woven of profound sadness, or perhaps grief. What happened in the man’s life to fill him with such anguish? Galen felt choked by the melancholy of it and pondered whether in some way, Azriel related to that aspect of the man. Or perhaps he was a regular customer, one Azriel preferred. That made Galen uneasy, in more ways than one. If only he were able to make such easy choices instead of reckless ones, merely hoping for a decent meal and a place to rest his weary head…
Exhaustion suddenly hit him, and Galen swayed on weakened knees, his knuckles tightening for purchase on the doorframe. Waiting another beat to be certain the hallway was clear, he slipped out of the kitchens before he was detected. He barely made it back to his bed before Bellamy swept into the room to retrieve or replace something beneath his bunk before heading out again.
Galen pretended to be asleep, though he was dying to question him about the evening’s events. But his thoughts were swirling as it was, and he didn’t think he could handle any more excitement.
And yet, try as he might, sleep would not come. His imagination ran wild as intimate sounds began drifting his way from the other rooms. Moans and groans, thumps against walls, and it was all too much to keep up with, though he still tried. It’d been too long since he’d allowed himself a good fantasy. He pictured a handsome gentleman plucking a flower from behind his ear, then leading him down the hallway, to the safety of a room. Maybe he’d even enjoy the experience, or at least not be worried about prying ears or eyes or about not having enough coin to fill his stomach with food.
He scoffed at such a ridiculous notion. He was not pampered like these lads, nor would he want to be, for it might make him soft enough to let his guard down. A molly could get killed for such a thing. Or beaten in an alley.
Maybe he’d allow himself to dream for only one night. But even his own fantasies exhausted him, and he drifted off into slumber.
Chapter 5
Galen felt someone nudging him awake, and when he opened his eyes, Wren was perched at his bedside, with Sparrow right next to him.
“Madam Langley would like you to join us for breakfast.” Wren looked him over. “That is, if you’re able.”
