First draft

Ann wrapped her arms around herself when a cold breeze came, tugging at her clothes. Winter was usually mild in the south, but the temperature had plummeted in the past few weeks, and it was now unreasonably cold. She frowned, fingering the cloak's texture between her thumb and forefinger. The fabric was coarse, a far cry from the soft clothes she was used to wearing. The leather armor reinforced with metal studs underneath her cloak, however, was even worse.

She chewed on her lip, reminding herself that she wasn't Ann Copperton right now, but Anton, a sellsword at the service of the queen. This wasn't the castle but one of the most infamous areas of the entire city: the district of vices. Located along the south-western edge of the city, the district official name was "District of Chastity." The name was amusing and maybe a bit sacrilegious, but the priests didn't seem to mind it. It wasn't that surprising considering many of them were regulars.

Ann eyed the two-story building before her with anticipation a bit of trepidation. That was the first time in years she'd left the castle without a crowd of guards accompanying her, and though she would have never chosen to visit a place like this, she had to admit that she was a bit curious.

She looked up at the wall plaque and whispered, "The Sound of the Desert."

Duncan, who was walking beside her, grimaced. "A poetic name for a whorehouse."

Rowley flashed his teeth at him under his hood. If the knight looked uncomfortable, the Spymaster was the exact opposite. He was in his element here, in the dark.

Ann straightened her shoulders, trying to look taller than she really was, and said, "Let's go."

"Your majesty..."

"Anton." Ann corrected him for the umpteenth time. "I'm Anton, the sellsword."

"Anton," He said, drawing the name, his voice laced with disapproval. "you have still time to change your mind. A place like this..."

Ann frowned. She was getting tired of this argument. "This meeting is too important, Duncan. I have to see him by myself."

Duncan stiffened. "Don't you trust us, your...Anton?"

Ann regarded him seriously. "I trust you."

"Then..."

"But," She held up a finger. "you're both biased. You seem to hate the Saliph, Duncan while Rowley seems all too eager to accept his offer."

Her two advisors traded a look. Then Rowling shrugged, apparently accepting her words with grace while Duncan froze.

He compressed his lips and seemed to be struggling with some inner conflict. "...very well, Anton." He said finally.

"I'm glad you understand."

"But please stay close to me." He pleaded, looking at her with that familiar concern in his eyes.

"I will." Ann promised.

When they walked through the door, Ann was greeted with a cacophony of sounds, the scent of herbs and spices bringing her to a distant and exotic land of seas and deserts. The visuals were almost as impressive, though they fell short compared to her imagination. The owners of the establishment had gone to a lot of trouble to mask the building's origin, hiding the floor and walls with oriental carpets and silk embroidered panels, but the idea hadn't been entirely successful.

It was ironic, but the fault lied with their guests. The patrons' richly decorated jackets and tunics were too dull and ordinary compared to the women's colorful clothes and fascinating veils, their movements rigid and woody to match the hypnotic dance of the girls twirling across the mezzanine.

The courtesans were showing a lot of skin and looked positively indecent, but there was something artistic and oddly captivating in their dance. One of them, in particular, caught Ann's attention. Maybe it was the rustle of silk and the strange tattoos inking her caramel skin, or maybe they were just her eyes, deep and blue like glittering sapphires, but Ann couldn't take her eyes off her. The dancer seemed somehow aware of her stare and turned her head, smiling at her.

Ann's face reddened to crimson despite herself. She drew a deep breath, straightened her aching spine - unused to the heavy brigandine she was wearing - and averted her eyes.

That's when she realized she wasn't the only one dazzled by the dance.

"You can close your mouth now, Duncan." She said in a gently reproving voice.

The knight's cheeks turned slightly pink, and he looked down, "I'm sorry, I..."

"Don't worry." She said, averting her face. Her face was admirably neutral, but a twinkle of amusement lurked in her eyes. "Where is Rowley by the way?"

"I'm here. " Rowling said, appearing behind them like a specter. "I was trying to find the Saliph."

"And?" Duncan sounded annoyed. "Did you find him?"

"He is upstairs." Rowley said, eyeing the stairs on his right. "But there is a problem."

Ann followed his gaze, her mouth falling open when she realized what Rowley meant. There was a man guarding the stairs. He was tall, big and intimidating - a mountain of muscles that broke bones for a living. His complexion was dark, and scars of varying shape and size littered his naked torso and part of his face, though most of them looked old, half-faded - memory of the man's adventurous past.

"A Kunnite" Duncan said. He sounded out of breath.

"A Kunnite?" Ann furrowed her brow. She remembered the tales about the black demons of the eastern continent, but most of them were just that, tales. "What do you know about them?"

"Not much." He said as kept studying the guard carefully. "Kunnites are formidable warriors natives of the Shattered Kingdoms. They are fiercely loyal to their masters."

"What ser Duncan forgot to mention," Rowling added and Duncan scowled at him. "is that the Kunnites are not sellswords but men of honor, similar to our knights."

Ann frowned, taking a second look at him. The man looked more like an armed thug than a knight, but she knew better than anyone else that appearances could be deceiving.

"So, if this man is here, probably the rumors about the Saliph are right." Ann concluded.

Rowling nodded, a gloating smile on his face and Duncan scowled at him.

Ann shook her head. "I still don't see the problem."

"The Saliph didn't know that we were coming here and that could be a big problem." Duncan said. "Kunnites can be quite...stubborn."

"That's an understatement." Rowley snorted. "They are boneheads, completely unreasonable."

Duncan observed him with a cynical smile. "What, are you unhappy because you can't bribe him?"

Rowley crossed his arms. "And what's your alternative?"

Duncan frowned, then turned to look at the Kunnite. "I'm sure I could take him."

Rowley scoffed. "Sure. That's your solution for everything, isn't it, Ser Duncan?"

They were still arguing when Ann took off, heading directly toward the guard.

She heard Duncan calling her name and Rowly swearing something under his breath, but she didn't stop. She walked briskly and tried not to squirm when the Kunnite's dark eyes fell on her.

"I'm Anton." She said, and through some miracle, her voice didn't shake. "I'm here to see the Saliph."

The guard tilted his head. He studied her unhurriedly, almost lazily, but his hand was resting on the hilt of his saber like he was ready to draw it and cut her head off at any moment. Maybe Duncan and Rowley knew that too because they stood perfectly still.

Ann started sweating. The more time went by, the less she could bear it. That silent examination went on until the same dancer Ann was eyeing before approached the guard, and whispered something in his ear. The guard squinted his eyes and nodded.

Then he glanced at Ann. "You go." He said in a heavily accented voice. "Exalted Sariph waiting you." Then he glanced at the dancer. "Jasmine, you go with him."

"Please follow me." The woman said softly, her accent much better than guard.

Ann bowed, whispering, "Thank you." and went past him.

She'd just started walking up the stairs when she heard the guard saying, "Only he. No others." as he barred Duncan's way.

She turned, meeting her knight's gaze. His was shaking his head, his eyes clinging to her face.

"It's fine, Duncan." She smiled encouragingly. "Wait for me here."

Then, without further ado, she followed Jasmine upstairs.

The second floor was very different from the rest of the building. It looked like an inn: a long corridor with many rooms. However, soon it became abundantly clear that it wasn't an inn. A flush crept on her face when she heard the laughs, panting sounds, and the screams of pleasure coming from the nearby rooms.

Everywhere she looked, people were doing things that would have gotten them arrested anywhere else. Ann tried focusing on something else, though by then, her face was of the same color of her hair. She looked at Jasmine. The dancer was a couple of inches shorter than her, and though her face was covered, Ann had an inkling that a great beauty was hidden beneath that veil.

Jasmine's movements were slinky and confident while she led her through the corridor and onto a big hall. Then she slowed down, and Ann paused, inhaling deeply. The air smelled of incense, roses, and...perdition. It was dark inside, the absence of light highlighting the women dancing languidly at the center of the hall. Except for their veils, they were completely naked, their oiled bodies flickering with the light of the torches.

Ann stood there, transfixed. Only a couple of minutes later she realized that Jasmine wasn't at her side anymore and was now crouching beside a man. The Saliph.

He wasn't much shorter than the guard, but his body was lean, almost bony, his features a bit angular and his nose beaky. He wore a sumptuous golden tunic and a turban atop his head.

The Saliph was lying on a bed of pillows, the stem of a long pipe in his mouth as he lazily watched the exhibition. He cocked his head when Jasmine whispered something in his ear. Then he squinted his eyes, clapped his hands once, and the girls stopped dancing, twice, and they scurried out of the room. Soon Ann, the dancer, and the Saliph were the only ones left.

"Sit." The Saliph said to Ann, pointing at the pillow before him.

Ann bowed curtly and obeyed, but the Saliph seemed to have lost interest in her.

The silence stretched as he sucked on his pipe, releasing a whiff of smoke. Ann wasn't new to this game and waited patiently, focusing on the curved ceremonial dagger lying on the ruby-studded sheath at his side.

"So, you're ser Anton." The Saliph said eventually.

Her head whipped up. "The ser is not necessary. I'm not a knight."

A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Indeed, you are not. Then who are you, Anton?"

"The only thing you need to know is that I speak for the queen." She said. Maybe because she was out of her comfort zone, but her tone came out a bit harsher than intended.

The Saliph didn't seem to mind. In fact, amusement colored his deep baritone. "Fair enough." He chuckled. "Since you're here, is it fair to assume that the queen has accepted my offer?"

"That depends, Saliph." She lifted an eyebrow and looked frankly at him. "What is that your offering exactly?"

A laugh sneaked upon him. "He is straightforward. I like him." The Saliph said to Jasmine and the dancer's eyes shone with delight. "Don't worry, Anton." He went on. "I think your queen will be very satisfied with my offer." He said, giving a curt nod to Jasmine.

The dancer knelt beside Ann, and she shivered when Jasmine long and painted fingernails skimmed along the contour of her jaw, her hot breath fanning the nape of her neck. Then Jasmine whispered a single word in her ear and stepped back, out of reach.

Ann's face changed. "One-tenth? Is this a joke?"

"I assure you that my offer is more than generous, Anton." The Saliph's smile slipped a bit. "Unless your queen has a counteroffer..."

"Actually, she does." She broke in sharply, "The Queen was thinking about half."

"Half?" The Saliph blew out a breath, looking at her like she was crazy. "Do you know how much coin is that?"

"No, but I'm sure you will tell me." Ann answered in a quiet, dull voice.

A corner of his mouth twitched. "Pardon me, Anton, but I don't think the Thornless Queen is in the position to bargain. We both know that she is in desperate need of coin."

Ann pursed her narrow lips. "Perhaps. However, there are many ways to raise gold, Saliph." She said, her voice hard but measured. "And my Queen is the only person who can help you."

"Is that so?" The Saliph shot her a cold glance. "I wonder what your Highlords would say about the situation of the city. I heard that the Queen's Spymaster is very close to the city steward. Rowley is his name, I believe?"

Ann became utterly still, her eyes hardening.

"What about your establishment, Saliph?" She asked, lowering her voice to a pitch. "I think the Temple would have much to say about the immorality taking place in here."

The Saliph let out a cold little laugh. "I assure you that the Temple knows about it. Actually, their priests are our best customers. If you queen were to expose us, denounce us publically, the Temple and the lords wouldn't stand still. High prelates and noblemen value their reputation above anything else after all. Don't you agree, Anton?"

Ann's face went blank, drained of all expression.

Then she nodded. "Maybe you're right."

"I'm glad you agree." He said, looking down on her with an air of haughty disdain. "Now, if you..."

"However," Her voice cut across his like a dagger. "what about the Anchorvys?"

The Saliph's eyes flashed at the name. "The Anchorvys? What do they have to do with this?"

"Maybe nothing." Ann said, her tone deliberately casual. "But I would be curious to know what would the Summermers, and the Temple think about your involvement with them."

The Saliph's face finally changed. "...your queen is very informed."

A very small and hard smile graced her features. "Someone said to me that information is power. Considering your occupation, I think you would agree with that statement."

He cocked his head, his eyes narrow and speculative, and Ann met them with a flat glare.

"I see." The Saliph cleared his throat. "I think we should stop casting stones at one another, Anton."

Ann narrowed her eyes. "It's you who started making threats, Saliph."

"And I apologize for that, but I still can't accept your offer. Even if your queen manages to do what she's promised, I'll still have to pay taxes to the city council."

Ann bit her tongue against a fresh urge to snap at him. "You know that my queen will never see that coin."

He shrugged. "I understand your queen's plight, but that's not really my problem, is it?"

Ann met the Saliph's eyes squarely, "I beg to differ, Saliph. It's your problem, if you want the queen's support, that's it."

The Saliph looked uncomfortable. He shot his gaze upward and past her. She darted a quick glance toward Jasmine who was still standing behind her, but the dancer's head was lowered.

"Two-tenths." The Saliph said. "That's the best I can do."

"Half." She replied without hesitation.

Once again his gaze flicked up at Jasmine. Ann narrowed her eyes.

"Two-tenths." He said with some asperity.

Ann inclined her head a bit and rubbed her chin, pretending to think about it, "Half."

The Saliph frowned. "Three-tenths or the deal is off."

Ann smiled. "Half."

The Saliph let out an impatient breath. "Anton, shouldn't you first report this to your queen first?"

"It's curious that you would ask me that." A fierce smile spread over her face as her gaze shifted from his to Jasmine. "Isn't that right...Saliph?"

Utter silence fell on the room.

"Anton? Why are you looking at her?" The "Saliph" asked, his tone laced with a little bit of panic. "She is just my maid."

"Is she?" Ann shook her head distastefully. "Whoever you are." She said to him. "I believe this charade has gone on long enough." She turned her head to look at Jasmine. "...don't you think?"

"Anton, I think you're mistak..."

"Enough, Akif." The woman said, and a ghost of a smile appeared on her veiled face. "It seems that Anton already knows about our secret."

Dismay flicked across Akif's face, quickly followed by anger. Ann stiffened when he turned his dark eyes at her and drew the dagger in a single motion.

"Stop!" Jasmine broke in sharply. "There is no need for that."

"But, exalted Saliph, he knows about your secret." He said, pointing at Ann with the tip of his dagger.

"He does." Jasmine's voice was very calm, her eyes locked on Ann's face, bright and interested. "But apparently, I am not the only one who has a secret."

Ann froze while Akif stared at his mistress, uncomprehending.

"Leave us now." Jasmine - the Saliph - ordered without explaining.

After a moment of hesitation, Akif bowed deeply and said, "As you wish, exalted Saliph."

Then he shot one last glance at Ann, and left them alone.

"Now," The Saliph smiled, a curving of her lips that was a vibrantly feminine expression. "what were we saying...your majesty?"