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Besides escaping that night, getting to Aspen was Oriel’s next biggest goal. Considering the state of his once-lover the last time he saw him, he didn’t know what to expect later.
Oriel only went into his cage for a little bit later so a servant could bring dinner for both of them. Roth said he didn’t want to be bothered again, so the servant could collect his tray tomorrow. Once they were alone, and the door was locked, Oriel was let out. Neither had much appetite.
After he dressed later, he stood in the privy room and peered at himself in the smaller looking glass. Even with Roth’s nice clothes on, he didn’t look quite like his old self. His eyes had hardened, and he was thinner.
Once the last of the bruising and marks faded from his rear after that caning, he’d be stuck with the brands for the rest of his life. Even the best healer couldn’t do anything about those. Other scars that weren’t visible and ran deeper would never vanish either.
What should he have expected when nothing would ever be the same as before?
Roth came in and arranged his hood to cover his face, and he allowed red strands to hang out and show. “They’ll know me, but you’re just a friend. Keep quiet.”
“I know. Thanks for this.”
Roth hesitated before he gave Oriel’s cheek a peck. “I wish we’d met in different circumstances. I’m sorry it was like this.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Still…” Roth pulled up Oriel’s hood. “Let’s go.”
It was the first time Oriel had walked the halls with Roth without being led or made to crawl like a dog. He’d worn clothes all of his life and never imagined going out in public naked. It almost felt strange after being nude for so long. Luckily, the halls were quiet and empty. At this time, the residents might not be asleep, but they were likely in their rooms or they had gone out somewhere. Others were probably hunting for the bratty cousin who ran off.
Roth had clearly been in pain from the burn all day, and it certainly wasn’t better, but he walked upright as if nothing had happened. He’d loosely bandaged it earlier to keep his clothes from rubbing, and Oriel had winced at the blisters. The cream hadn’t even been enough to keep them all away.
Oriel had a feeling that Roth had spent a lot of time working on his posture, gait, and expressions over the years to hide whatever injuries he’d suffered from Lord Delwin’s fists so everyone would think he was fine.
They headed outside and across the grounds. Oriel couldn’t shake the feeling that he stuck out like a sore thumb even though he could have been anyone, and Roth’s presence kept him safe. A couple of guards passed with a murmur. Since the place wasn’t in a panic, everyone must have assumed Lord Delwin had gone to look for the brat who had run off.
Maybe Oriel should have been a brat and somehow convinced Aspen to run away with him ages ago. Then he imagined if Kard or Zale had been taken alive and put through this. His stomach twisted at the very thought, and he started to sweat as they stopped by the stables. Roth told a man smoking a cig to hurry up and get a carriage ready to head to Buds in Bloom.
The man didn’t point at Oriel and scream that he was escaping. In fact, he barely looked at the pair. Roth’s visible red strands made it clear who he was.
A guard came with the horseless carriage, and Roth climbed in easily as if he wasn’t suffering from a horrible burn. Oriel settled in the seat next to him and discreetly tugged up the high neck of his shirt even more just to be safe even though he wore a cloak. The guard settled across from them with a faintly bored expression.
“You should ask for the one with blue hair,” Roth muttered to Oriel simply for the sake of talking. “I can’t remember his name, but he knows some tricks and is definitely worth his price.”
“I’ll remember that.”
The carriage jiggled along through the city for a good thirty minutes, but it felt like an eternity. The guard looked ready to fall asleep, and he stayed in the seat when the carriage stopped. Roth climbed out, Oriel followed, and they entered through the red doors of a whorehouse.
Swaths of colored silk draped the walls, and a couple of closer whores clad in far less fabric cooed at Roth as he entered. At the bar on one side, a couple of men sat on stools as they drank. They passed a raised platform with a pole where a naked man with a short-haired tail danced. Oriel didn’t understand how the fairy hooked his legs on the pole, hung upside down, and slowly twirled around. Oriel would have fallen on his face if he tried that.
A completely naked lady with pale orange skin lounged in a chair by a door, and her feathery wings twitched as they approached. “Back for more, Roth?”
“Just your back door this time.” Roth slipped a coin to her.
“Which one?” She snorted and jerked her thumb. “Go on.”
Oriel followed Roth into a hall that smelled faintly of lavender. They passed a few blank, closed doors, and they slipped outside. Hours from now, the guard might grow concerned at why they were taking so long. If he went in, the whores would play dumb, and the guard would have a hard time tracking Roth and his friend.
Nobody paid much attention as they strolled down the street. The Red Arch, another whorehouse for higher-ups, had a red arch over the door, and it was lit with floating flames. The stones of the building had a faint, pinkish hue. The inside was dimmer than the last place, and most of the whores seemed to prefer leather outfits that barely covered anything. The Madam approached with a smile.
“You brought a friend, Roth.”
He drew her aside and passed her something. Money, of course. “We’re playing a game and need to give someone the slip.”
“Take the horses,” she said instantly. “But only the two at the end, and you have to saddle them yourselves.”
“You’re a doll.”
