Sweat trickled down her spine as she wove into the mob, bodies pressed against each other. The surroundings were ripe with smell. She covered her nose with a hand, her russet eyes scanning for a suitable prospect. Business always flourished during times like this;  just a few more coins and she could retire for the day. Away from the crowd and the god-forsaken stink.

  "Kill the traitor!" The crowd shouted.

   Fools. All of them.

    The accused was a man. No, a boy. A cold fist gripped her heart as the lever was pulled and the boy dropped. She didn't care anymore, caring indicated treachery and if you didn't want to be the next body on the noose you learned to mind your own business. Averting her eyes she scanned through the crowd, all in rags, none in riches, except one. 

  The woman stood out like a sore thumb. Her fine muslin dress of pink was now smudged brown but fine nonetheless setting her aside as someone of a higher station, of money. A reticule was hanging loosely on a wrist, just what she was looking for, making Irya wonder why she hadn't noticed her before. 

  The mob moved closer to the noose, as usual wanting to take the body of the dead and stick it in a pole at the city gates. 

  Irya threaded through the bodies, using them as a cover. Her target was close enough that she could see tears streaming down a pretty face. She couldn't be a day more than sixteen, come to see off her lover on the noose for the last time perhaps. Cheers and hoots went up as the body was removed from the noose and the procession began towards the city gates. Sobs wrecked the girl's frame and guilt struck Irya's conscience. With a deft motion of her nimble fingers, she flicked the reticule off the girl's arm and wove her way out of the throng. 

  Her heeled boots padded along the all too familiar path, 

 "Blasted pebbles," The curse was quick to her tongue as she stumbled. Again. The reticule making its way down, sliding along her right thigh. Chucking the reticule down her pants maybe wasn't that great of an idea. No human shouts nor chatter greeted her ears, most of them left for the city gates to witness the traitor's body impaled and left for the birds to peck on. Sadistic bastards. They weren't to be blamed though. The decree made it clear that anyone with sympathy towards the traitors will be sentenced to the gallows. No one wanted to die, not her at least. 

  Life was beautiful, her's was pathetic. However, she didn't want to relinquish it for petty human emotions. One day she'd no longer pickpockets, one day she'd get away but the day was not today. The thought did nothing to dampen her mind as she continued on her path of cobblestones and day dreams. 

  The back door was unlocked like it always was, carrying out the hushed voices and chiming laughter into the street, today it was the scent of freshly baked cake that roused her senses. Dodging maids with trays of delicacies and various cooks Irya scanned the room for a certain cook. She found him hunched over a cake and a sea of pastries laid out around him.

  "That smells delicious, Ammon." Irya flicked a coin at the young cook and picking a piece of delicately iced pastry stuffed it in her mouth. 

  "Ah! There you are." Ammon smiled, catching the coin, "I was wondering where my favourite taster had gone," he said, making Irya chuckle.

  "Your only taster, Ammon. No one would dare come into your kitchen, you only let me because I flick coins at you." She teased, extending her hands to pick another pastry only to get her knuckles slapped with a spatula. 

  "Ow.. that hurt, you know" 

  "It did? How would I know? You get slapped on the knuckles everyday and yet you don't give up," He said with a smirk and picked up the icing cone. 

   "Old habits die hard" She said, looking at his handsome face, dark brows furrowed as he made dainty swirls on the pastry. Such talent, wasted in a brothel kitchen. The most luxurious and famous brothel in all of Omria but a brothel nonetheless.

  "Don't you have work tonight?" Ammon asked.

  "I do.. I'm hoping to make a big cut tonight," She whispered.

  "Judging by all that clinking in there," He cocked his head, glancing at her trousers,"I think you already made a big cut." He said, voice low. Not that anyone could hear them with all the clanking.

 Irya leaned towards him, her lips slightly grazing his ears, "Are you interested in what is inside my pants, Ammon?" She purred, lingering for a mere second and pulling back to see Ammon no longer holding the piping bag. 

  He moved dangerously close to her, so close that she could see his pupils dilated, the usual browns now completely black, 

  "Are you offering?" He asked. Irya sucked in a breath as his fingers mimicked the swirls on her cheek, slowly travelling down to her neck, the tips of his fingers now rested just above her bound breasts. She strained to breathe, after all this time and he still had this effect on her. 

  "At dawn," Irya whispered, taking a step back. 

  "I might be busy, you know how it gets at dawn."

  "Make time," Irya demanded, casting a quick glance up and down his lanky frame as she walked away. 

  Irya took the hidden passage, not wanting to suffer through the long sweet smelling corridors. It was an aphrodisiac to lure in the customers and add to the appeal. After the noon adventure all she wanted to do was have a siesta and not engage in verbal sparring with the beauties. Verbal sparring usually turned into physical ones and right now Irya did not fancy getting her paycheck docked just because she gave a black eye to a high rate courtesan. 

  "Stella, I'm home" Irya called out to her companion as she unlocked her poor excuse of a room, at least she didn't have to share it with anyone. All the other girls shared their room with a rommate, but she wasn't like other girls. Madame Amber didn't want her to serve patrons with her body, she earned her keep in a different way.

  "Ella darling, I'm home." She called out again.

Complete silence. This was so unlike Ella, she'd always be home rummaging in the cupboards. Irya tiptoed, the wooden floor creaking under her heeled boots. Ella could be sleeping and hated if anyone interrupted her afternoon siesta.

Irya picked a few clothes strewn on the floor, stopping to glance at the bed. No sign of her anywhere.

  "Stella, I swear if you are hidin-" sharp claws and fangs at her neck interrupted her words making her curse, arms reaching out to free herself from the beast.

  "What the hell, Stella?" 

  The kitten only meowed in response.

  "Don't attack me like that! You need to attack anyone who wants to harm me!" Squished under her arms,Ella just gave a look and meowed, tongue flicking out to lick at the scratches she had given.

  "Are you hungry again?" fetching the pie leftover from last night, she tossed it on the floor. Jumping out of her arms the kitten ran straight to it, gobbled it up in a minute and then began washing her paws. 

  Taking off her boots Irya sat on the bed, reaching for the earthen tumbler standing at the stool by the bed.Cool water soothed her parched throat, the hellfire like heat subsiding for a little moment. She pulled the strings at her chest undoing the ragged tunic, coins pattering on the floor as the strips of cloth she bound her chest with unraveled. Ella lunged and started pushing some around, her sharp claws scraping against the metal.

  "Hey, Those are not for playing. Take this," a tiny ball of yarn hit the kitten's head which she dutifully ignored and continued slaughtering the coins. 

  Tears streaming down a pretty face flashed through her mind as she retrieved the reticule from inside her pants. Heavy with coins chinking as she tossed it on her bed and pulled off her pants. Ella curled up beside her as she lay on the bed a yawn escaping her breath as she stroked her, eyes getting heavier by the second. 

  "For someone so tiny you demand a lot of food, I should've just left you in the gutter, would have saved me a lot of coins"

The kitten licked her cheeks and purred, lulling Irya into an afternoon siesta.

   Irya woke to the sound of someone banging at her door, still groggy she grabbed whatever she found in the darkness and slipped it on. 

  "What do you want?" She grumbled, vigorously rubbing her sleep laden eyes and opening the door to find a maid holding a large box.

  "Madame Amber sent this, she wants you to be ready in an hour and meet her in her room," The maid said, thrusting the box into Irya's hands. 

 "What time is it?" The maid's face scrunched up as Irya yawned into her face, "Sorry my hands are preoccupied."

  "Quarter past 9."

  "Alright, tell Madame I'll be there." 

  "Do wash yourself before you do so, you sti-," Irya kicked the door shut before the maid could say any further. Placing the box on the bed Irya reached for the match box under her pillow. She had an hour and the pouch she had nicked from the pink lady was still lying untouched on her bed. 

  "Let there be light." She said as the candles illuminated the room. Pulling the cord of the pouch Irya emptied it's contents, a small heap of gold coins now lay on her bed offset with a white piece of paper sticking out. 

  "I really did make a big cut," Irya stifled a squeal, staring at the small heap in awe. If only she made big cuts like this often, she'd have a new life in no time. Making a mental note to count the coins later she began stuffing it back into the pouch. The coins clinking filled her with glee and she giggled like a love struck maiden until only the paper was left. It was folded multiple times, the girl's face flashed across her mind as she unfolded it, she stopped, it could be a lover letter. Irya didn't want to read a love letter, she had seen enough to not believe in that. If it really existed Madame Amber would have been penniless, gingerly unfolding the paper she decided at any mention of love she'd stop reading and burn it. 

  Irya stiffened, heart hammering on her chest so loud she could feel it resounding in her ears. There was no mention of love, it wasn't a letter even. Just a note.

   Greetings Irya,
 
  Sultry Sirens at Gems of Desire, an hour past midnight.
 Don't make me wait.

  Not just a note. It was a command. Not for any lover, specifically for her.

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Author's Note

Hi guys! How do like Irya? Let me know in the comments what you like about this chapter. Constructive criticism is most welcome too!