White Orchid Prologue

White Orchid



Prologue



Sebastian



The sun shone through the many windows in Sebastian’s study, spilling onto his desk and warming it, along with Sebastian himself. He did not notice though; he was far too busy reading over a long inventory list of supplies being sent to the Camen Islands. His Majesty, King Ferdinand, had managed to gain control of it from the natives. He had been sending hundreds of people to colonize in the last year. It was now Sebastian’s job to ensure that those sent to the Islands were being cared for.



“Sebby, darling,” Sebastian winced at the childhood nickname, but raised his gaze from the parchment to his younger sister, Bernadette, who was lounging in a chair next to the window. Sebastian knew she was only here for the view of the soldiers in the courtyard, but he had never commented on it before, and he was not about to start. He paused only briefly in his study of a somewhat-less-than-desirable map of the westernmost Island to glance up at his sister.



“Yes, Bernadette?” Sebastian refused to give her a nickname. Bernadette turned in a swirl of skirts to face him, a smile playing on her lips, making Sebastian suddenly very wary.



“Your nameday is coming up shortly, is it not?” Sebastian rolled his eyes. He knew where this was leading.



“Do not try to get me anything,” he said sternly, “I’ll have no use for it.” His young sister’s lips pouted.



“Don’t be like that Sebby,” the sweetness in her voice belied the gleam in her eye, “you stay cooped up in this stuffy office for hours upon hours. You even have meals brought to you! When was the last time you sat down to dinner with us? Ferdinand thinks you’re becoming a stranger.” Halfway through her speech, Sebastian had taken back to going over his map, marking with pins the towns that had received supplies the last go-round, but at the mention of his twin brother, Sebastian’s head snapped back up.



“Well,” he snapped, dropping the pin he was about to place, “since His Majesty, thinks I am not out enough, I will be sure to accompany you to dinner this evening.” He picked up the pin he had dropped and stabbed it with vengeance into the map. “Now, if you would be so kind as to take your leave, I have work to do.”



Knowing the conversation was over with those words of finality, Bernadette did as she was told and took her leave, sighing as she stopped at the door to look back at her older brother, one of the best Generals that Reinshire had seen in generations. He had, after all, protected the entire kingdom from the advancing Neigeshirian army. Of course, no one had acknowledged that feat, not when the King had finally married. It had always been that way, as far as Bernadette could remember



When they were all three children, anything her brother had done had been overshadowed by his twin. Once, Sebastian had come home after hunting trip to bring back an enormous stag (it was still the biggest she had ever seen); there was certainly some celebration, but it had been quickly distinguished when Ferdinand had somehow managed to fall and break his arm. In all of this Bernadette herself had never suffered a lack of affection, for she had been the only daughter to the King and Queen, and thus spoiled as such.



By Sebastian’s seventeenth year, he had given up the struggle for their parent’s attentions. This had left him bitter and quick to anger at almost anything. Bernadette supposed she would be the same way, had their parents not shown her the devotion they had.



Another sigh and Bernadette closed the door quietly behind her, heading for her rooms, where she had left her day gloves. She had business to attend to down in the shipyard. Sebastian was going to be shocked into paralysis when he received his gift.



Gavin



Music from tonight’s revelries had already begun to drift up through his window, making him hurry to finish dressing. It would be a good money night, what with all the drinking. He had seen some of the foreign soldiers watching him, but few had dared to venture out and make an offer. Tonight would be the night when they all would.



After applying the barest tint of carmine to his lips and kohl to make his eyes seem larger, purple to make the color of them stand out more so than they did already, Gavin gathered up part of his hair and twisted it into a small bun, leaving the rest to fall down his back. He tied the large red feather that labeled him as property of a Red Lantern House in the bun, letting it fall on the snowy whiteness of the rest of his hair.



Gavin took a step back to examine himself in the floor length mirror next to him. The shear fabric of his shirt made it quite easy to see the glint of gold at his navel, a gift from his last master, and the tightness of his breeches left very little to the imagination. Gavin smiled. Tonight would be a very good night for money. With one last glance at himself in the mirror, Gavin lit the lantern hanging from the ceiling and left, locking his door behind him.



As he made his way down the halls, he passed by other men and women of the House, taking their clientele back to their rooms. He gave them all a small smile and nod of the head in greeting, though they only glowered back when their clients were too busy staring at him. It was hard to make friends in a whorehouse when you were the prettiest whore there. Madame Delour always said she had made the right decision in buying him from his last master, though the price had been great. It didn’t matter though; he would be the one to pay her back, if she did not sell him first.



That was the catch with pleasure slaves, or any slave in general he supposed; in order to obtain freedom, one had to purchase themselves from their master. It was a rare occasion, since a slave had to give any money they made to their master to repay them for the cost of purchasing them. For Gavin, it would not be too hard normally, since his pleasure price was so great, yet every time he had come close to paying off his master, they had sold him to someone else, where he was to start all over. Some masters did not let him entertain others, so he was forced to live as an actual slave, with no hope of repayment. That was why he enjoyed working for the Houses. This was his third one, and in only two years he had almost reached his bond.



The breeze brought with it the smells of spring flowers and burning wood when he stepped outside. The few patrons outside of the House watched him as he sauntered by with a personal smile or word for each of them. Most of them were his regulars, and though they gave him most of his money, he was not interested in them tonight. No, he wanted to find the blonde soldier that seemed completely infatuated with him. Someone possibly as desperate as him would pay a very large sum for Gavin.



He bowed his head in obeisance at the strangers who began to pass by, but would stop when they realized they were passing the Diamond of House Delour, but did not stop to entice any of them to come back to his room. It wouldn’t have required much, in the first place; a simple look, maybe a wink, and a sway of his hips would have them eating from the palm of his hand.



“Gavin!” a little girl’s voice easily rang out over the festivities and Gavin turned to meet and scoop up the dark-headed six year-old.



“Arabella!” he exclaimed warmly, kissing the girl that seemed like a sister to him on the cheek, “You grow more beautiful with every passing day.” Arabella giggled and blushed at the compliment, which made Gavin’s smile grow. “Is your mother well?” Twisting some of Gavin’s hair around her little hand, she nodded.



“Momma’s with a customer.” Gavin frowned.



“And she gave you permission to wander the streets on Beltine?” Arabella’s silence was enough of an answer. Though it was highly unlikely anyone in this part of the city would dare dream of harming the daughter of such a popular courtesan as Arabella’s mother, Cornelia, it was still Beltine, and one never what sorts decided to come slumming. Gavin sighed.



“I suppose I will have to take you to Madame Delour’s…” He would take her home, but Cornelia would be busy the rest of the night, and there were few people Gavin would trust to watch over Arabella.



“Can’t I stay with you?” Arabella pouted, wrapping her arms around Gavin’s neck, as if that would disable him from putting her down. Gavin started walking back to the House.



“I have to work, dearest.”



“I could come with you,” the mere suggestion made it hard for Gavin not to laugh, “I promise I wouldn’t be in the way.” Arabella’s brown eyes bore into his violet ones pleadingly.



“Before I left,” Gavin said, stepping back through the red-beaded entryway of the House, “I smelled something delicious coming from the kitchen.” He inhaled the perfumed air deeply, making a show of smelling a fake aroma. “It smells a little like cookies….” Gavin set Arabella down in the kitchen doorway, who made a direct line for a short, slightly plump woman at the counter, completely forgetting Gavin’s presence at the mere hint of sweets.



“Bella!” came Keira’s exclamation of surprise when the girl wrapped her arms around the cook’s legs, “you have the most perfect timing! I just finished a batch of cookies and was going to start another one. Would you like to help?” Glancing up, Keira smiled to Gavin and gave the barest of nods, indicating that she would watch Arabella, a nod and smile in reply, and Gavin snuck out of Arabella’s sight, who was to busy trying to inform the cook on how her mother’s friend had taught her how to bake cookies.



Once again, Gavin made his way down the street towards the foreign army’s base. Chances were, though, that the young soldier he was looking for was not there, but Gavin would find him, regardless. The further away he went from the Red District, the louder the streets became with the festival.



In the city square, a huge bonfire had been built, around which long tables had been erected, where most of the drink was being poured and drank. Gavin made his away around these tables slowly, pausing only to meet eyes with those whom he believed would pay the most money, making silent promises to them that they would have their turns.



Gavin felt an itching in the middle of his back, something he had become used to when he was around the soldiers, and turned to find the man he was looking for. The soldier sat across from where Gavin was standing, blonde hair falling in his eyes. Even in the dark Gavin fancied that he could see the cerulean irises of his eyes. As the man watched, Gavin turned around to the woman next to him, smiling solicitously at an unheard comment she had made towards him. He did not need to look up to know that the soldier had seen the flirtatious way he touched the woman, or the way he leaned to let the firelight play over his pearlescent skin.



He also did not need to look to know that man had stood to walk away.



With a parting comment and kiss on the cheek, Gavin left the ring of tables to follow after his soon-to-be client. He stopped outside of the tables, blinking in the dimness outside of the firelight, before he made a move to find his prey.



Several minutes later, Gavin was at a loss for where the soldier could have gone. His silent question was answered when a hand grabbed him from out of nowhere and yanked him into an alleyway. Gavin’s heart leapt into his throat when he was thrown against a wall and another body was pressed onto his, hands groping madly.



“Sir,” he gasped when the soldier’s hands went to the fastening of his breeches, “you have to pay first,” the man stopped, frowning in confusion and Gavin silently berated himself. He gave the man a smoldering smile and drew himself up to kiss the man deeply. “Money,” he said in the soldier’s tongue and a look of enlightenment came over the man’s face. He reached into his pocket, but Gavin put a hand on his arm, shaking his head. “Not here.”



“Where?” the man growled. With another smile, Gavin took his hand, leading him out of the alleyway. The man’s presence was like a close shadow behind him; Gavin imagined he would be able to feel the warmth from the other man’s body were he any closer.



The red light from his House spilled out onto the steps, a beacon in the loud dimness that was the District. Gavin led his soldier into the scented warmth, looking back to smile at the blonde man. New patrons had come and gone in his absence, and the patrons currently there did a double take upon seeing Gavin saunter in, leading his client up the stairs.



Gavin did not bring his client to his private room; he brought the soldier to his serving room, the room designated for him alone to entertain his clientele. Only Madame Delour’s favorite whores had their own serving room. The others had to use whatever was available at the time.



The moment the door had been shut, Gavin felt the press of a body against his back and the rough hands of his patron running over his stomach under his shirt. The hand paused when it ran over the ring in his navel, and Gavin took that moment to turn around in the soldier’s arms, placing his hands on the much larger man’s chest.



“Sir,” Gavin said, “You must pay first.” Gods, was he glad for the other soldiers who had taught him the Reinshiran language.



The man yanked a cloth purse from his pocket and tossed it onto the small table on the wall, before he bent down to press a kiss on Gavin’s lips. His hands slid from Gavin’s back and over his buttocks, grabbing it to yank him so close that not even air would be able to pass between them. Gavin leaned back to allow the soldier’s mouth to travel over his jaw and down his neck as he worked at the buttons of the man’s uniform. As of late, he had become very good at getting the large brass circles apart from the button holes in a timely manner.



Gavin traced his tongue in the hollow of the man’s neck, bringing an almost animalistic noise from deep inside the soldier’s throat. With a grunt, the man picked Gavin up and walked him over to the bed, dumping him unceremoniously on the thinly stuffed mattress before crawling between Gavin’s legs.



When all was said and done, and the soldier had left, Gavin gathered his clothes and poked his head out the door, waiting until it was clear before he went out, heading for the stairs that led to the fourth floor, the one where his private room was located.



Upon walking into his room, Gavin found Madame Delour lounging on the chaise, looking glorious surrounded by her decadence. Gavin bowed low to his mistress, who in turn waved it away.



“To what do I owe this pleasure, Madame?” Gavin asked politely, averting his eyes to the floor. He had been trained to be the utmost epitome of obeisance.



“Don’t act like that Gavin,” Madame Delour said, irritated, “I was a whore once too.” Gavin nodded.



“Yes, Madame.” Gavin obeyed, meeting his mistress’s eyes. “I have another payment for you.” Gavin shifted his clothing to one arm and held out the purse by its strings with his free hand. He did not mind being nude in front of his mistress, and she did not care. As she had said earlier, she had been a whore once, also. Whores were not modest. Madame Delour took the without comment, setting it on the chaise next to her.



“I have news for you, Gavin,” she said smoothly, and Gavin shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. Any time master or mistress had news for him, it was not good. It meant he was being sold. Gavin sat down on the chaise next to his mistress, who touched his arm briefly.



“You’ve been bought by a princess as a gift for her brother.” Gavin’s mouth fell open in shock. A princess? He had been bought by a princess? At least he was for her brother. He did not like women very much, though he could always manage if he needed to.



“Where is this prince from?” It was the only thing he could think of to say.



“Reinshire.” When the name left the Madame’s lips, Gavin felt his world falling to pieces.



“You sold me to royalty in Reinshire?!” Gavin could not keep the disbelief from his voice. Of all the places to go, he was being sent across an ocean to a land he had never seen. Madame Delour gathered her shawl about her shoulders and stood, plucking up the purse.



“You leave tomorrow, dear,” she said unsympathetically. After all, she had been the one to get every cent Gavin had earned for her, and then who knew as much from the princess who had purchased him. “You have tonight to say your goodbyes.” And with that, Madame Delour left, leaving Gavin to sit in shock on his chaise.



After several minutes of digesting this news, Gavin looked around his room, the home he had made for the past two years. Madame Delour had even let him decorate to his choosing. He had chosen warm tones of gold and red and brown, almost everything in velvet. He sighed. Every time he became comfortable in a home, he was sold to another.



“A never ending, vicious cycle.” Gavin muttered out loud. He stood up slowly, leaving his clothing where it was, wadded on the floor, and went to his wardrobe to find something a little more conservative. He would not make anymore money tonight.



After dressing, Gavin took one last look around his apartments before he went out the door, locking it behind him. He had goodbyes to make.