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But none of those men are at this table. These soldiers wear different brands, signaling which regiment they were conscripted to. Birds.Oxen. Deer. None of them are a snake. They may be just as guilty as the men bearing Graves’s mark, but I’m not about to bring justice for crimes I haven’t witnessed. Until I see them do something vile with my own eyes, these men aren’t on my radar.
“I’ll have a glass of yher wine, lass.” A burly man with a thick black beard holds up his cup as I pass.
I smile and fill the metal chalice nearly to the brim, careful not to under-pour or let the wine spill over. I wait as the soldier takes the drink, expecting a thank you and for him to pull a Silver from his pocket, but he goes back to his game of cards. Seconds tick by with no one acknowledging that I exist. None of the men will meet my eye or answer when I ask, “Would anyone else like some?”
I wait until I can’t deny that no one else is interested in my wine and then move to the next table.
“Hang on!” a woman with long brown hair snaps from two tables away.
She crawls off the lap of her suitor and marches over to us. My stomach flips as fear tickles my spine. It’s too dark in here for her to see the red through the dust in my hair. She can’t possibly know I’m a Cerise. I tied my locks up in a bun, just in case, because the dust looks darker that way. I quickly scan the room, searching for Ezra. If she outs me to the guards, I’ll need his help to escape.
No.
I don’t want his help. The moment he interferes, he’ll be a sympathizer and killed. I have to figure this out on my own. I scan the room again. Both exits are unguarded but surrounded by soldiers. I doubt I could make it past them once they realize what I am. I could double back and run through the kitchen. If I make it out the back door, I don’t think they’ll follow me into the woods at this hour of the night. Straying beyond the path is forbidden, even for the soldiers in this room.
“This ain’t no charity service, Horace. Pay the girl her coin,” the woman orders, walking past me to glare at the man I served, and the tight knot of worry in my chest unravels. It’s the soldier she’s interested in. Not me.
“I thought it was a gift,” the man, Horace, grumbles. His lips lift into a grisly grin. He’s missing his two front teeth and has a hole in one of hislower bicuspid. He isn’t attractive, but he isn’t hideous either… until he smiles. Then he has a face only a mother could love.
“Unlikely.” She rolls her eyes and then glares at him, her hand held out.
Horace digs into his coat pocket, muttering curses under his breath, and pulls out a small silver coin. He sets it in her outstretched hand and sarcastically adds, “For all yher trouble, Sage.”
Sage turns to me and tucks the coin in between my breasts. She smiles for a fraction of a second, then scowls at Horace again. “You’re the only trouble in here, you brute.”
He grunts and waves her off, but Sage doesn’t pay him any mind. She links her arm through mine and says, “Come on, new girl.”
I look over my shoulder, an apology on the tip of my tongue as we walk away, but Horace has returned to his game of cards as if the scuffle never happened.
“I didn’t know I was to collect,” I say meekly once we are out of the table’s earshot.
I should have known Horace needed to pay before I walked away, but, in my defense, this is my first time pretending to work at a place like this. The other times I’ve gone undercover in a tavern, men bought me drinks. I never worried about how the servers were paid. I guess I thought… Well, I don’t actually know what I thought.
“Madam Marcy is a sweetheart until you come up short for the night. Collect first, if possible. Some of the men will take and take and then leave if you’re not careful.” Sage scans the room, hopefully looking for an easy mark to unload these drinks on.
I study my new friend while she surveys each table. Dark circles hang under her pale blue eyes. They are noticeable even though she wears a layer of facial powder and a silk mask. She smiles at me, and the sentiment is warm but tired. My gaze slips to her bare arm where yellow and green bruises, the shape of fingerprints, dot her skin. As for her wrists, a deep ring of purple encircles them.
Sage notices me looking at the marks and shrugs, unashamed at what’s been done to her. “Some men are worse than others, but don’t let me scare you off. Most of the guys here are just lonely and want someone who reminds them of home.”
“Youleta man do that to you?” I ask, trying to understand how something that marred her skin so brutally could have been consensual, let alone enjoyable.
“Honey, for the amount that man paid me, I would have let him wrap a rope around my neck if that was what he wanted.”
My jaw falls and Sage chuckles at the shock on my face. I don’t bother to try to hide it. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. The thought of being tied up, unable to move, and forced to let someone use my body as their toy makes me want to puke.
“You’ll understand soon enough,” she adds. “Once you’ve gotten your feet wet, you’ll realize that sex is just that. Sex. And the majority of it sucks. Might as well get paid for the experience.”
I try to swallow, but my throat dries up. I clear it instead, and my cheeks and neck flush red. Sex isn’t something anyone talks about in Divale. It’s an act shared between spouses. Secret. Sacred. Talking about it is almost as taboo as doing it outside of marriage. “Is it obvious that I’m new?”
Sage laughs and gives me anoh honeylook. “For starters, Marcy’s got you carrying the wine. So, yes.” She takes the oversized decanter and sets it on a nearby table. I bristle, worried about the silver I’ll owe later, not that I’ll be around long enough to pay, but I’d hate for the other ladies to lose money tonight because of my doing.
My new friend signals to one of the girls working tonight, and a rail-thin blonde comes over to take the decanter. Sage tilts her chin toward a group of men near the throwing knives. Their cups must be empty because none of them has touched a drink in the last ten seconds. The girl goes over to that side of the room and has half the wine sold in minutes. They fill her pouch with coins, and she smiles brightly with gratitude.
I force the muscles in my shoulders to relax. The ladies of the night will be fine, and I have one less distraction to worry about. Granted, I no longer have an excuse to go from table to table, but I’ll be alright. It’s for the best. My attention was divided. I need to search for Graves, not additional soldiers he might have worked with.
“And then there’s your look.” Sage pulls the pin holding my bun in place free. My ash-dusted locks fall in loose waves over my shoulders anddown my back. The red is still visible, nothing shy of dying it black with ink can hide my hue, but they look more of a toasted brown than crimson.
I stand straight, trying my best to seem confident, but I can’t stop myself from searching the room for eyes that might have noticed my hair. It doesn’t look like I’ve caught anyone’s attention, but I can’t be sure.
