Page 28 of Heirs of the Cursed

When her friend Bassel called for her from the other side of the door, Darcia stepped out to end the show, numbing her feelings until there were none.

10

Bellmare

For the past two days, Naithea had been careful upon her discoveries. Every time the Royal Army walked in the tavern or the brothel, she couldn’t help thinking that the soldiers hadcome for her, to take her to the gallows and sentence her to death.

But Naithea wasn’t afraid of death. Yet, what the soldiers did to the Crown’s enemies was a much more horrible fate. Their torture knew no bounds, no mercy . . . If they found out that a whore was looking for answers, her body would soon be rotting in a moldy dungeon with thieves and rapists and the rebel groups who hid under the names of the White Tigers and Wild Tigers.

She couldn’t afford to be interrogated and tortured. Not when she could endanger her sisters.

Still, uncertainty wandered in the air. If the king’s seventh heir had died after birth, what would happen then? Would the death and rot that lurked in the Fallen Kingdom spread to the rest of Laivalon? How many more would perish by the curse of shadow and stone?

Despite the sacrifices Naithea had had to make to survive, she was grateful that she’d found her way to the brothel. The hetairas had become her family, and she’d do everything in her power to make sure nothing happened to them. She’d fight for the ten women as her mother had fought for her. And to do so, Naithea had to knowmore.

About the king.

About the holly of death.

And about the lost princesses, the cause of it all.

Her heartbeat quickened at the thought of the two heiresses of Ro’i Rajya. Kirus Allencort was known for his determination and he wouldn’t give up until he got what he wanted. If his lineage was in danger because of the Dark Twins, he would see to it that they both stopped breathing.

Her thoughts began to fade to the whispers that surrounded her and brought her back to reality.

“We must do something,” Regnera Ziapharis, her oldest friend in the brothel, pointed out, pulling her braided dark hair into a high ponytail. Her two-colored eyes, one hazel brown and one olive green, noting her sisters’ concerned expressions. “The Royal Army’s presence is costing us everything.”

Her sisters nodded.

The arrival of the soldiers at the brothel had meant a change of plans in the agreement between Madame Dimond and the Fiend. Before, the faceless man had kept seventy-five percent of the profits; now it had risen to ninety. That had posed a problem for the hetairas, since most of the money they made each night no longer passed to the madam, but to her business partner, which meant more time being enslaved to pay their debts and be free at last.

After her last encounter with the Fiend, it was Regnera who had heard about the deal. As soon as the man no longer needed her services, she went in search of Naithea to tell her what had happened and what the future held for them. Together, they’d called a meeting with the rest of their sisters to organize a plan of resistance.

“But what are we going to do? It’s not like we can force them to leave,” Faithe asked, brushing a jittery hand over her hair, cut close to her scalp. Her girlfriend, Kaenna, grabbed her hand between hers to calm her down.

Silence settled back into the room.

“I’m scared . . .” Tanea admitted with her brown eyes glistening from tears. “What will become of us if that horrible man wants more money? We will never be free.”

Naithea had hoped that the Fiend’s sudden visit weeks ago would be enough to keep him away for a long time, but that faceless man seemed to be several steps ahead. And it was clear that he would seize the slightest opportunity to exploit them.

“Nothing,” Jehanne assured her, stroking Tanea’s back. “We’ll be fine.”

“Je is right,” Anera asserted with conviction. Hope was the only thing that would save them if they were to avoid the machiavellian scenarios that Madame Dimond could orchestrate. She raised her green gaze to her sister before saying, “She needs us, doesn’t she, Kaenna?”

Kaenna’s gaze remained lost in the fabric of her dress. “We need to find a way to make up for the losses,” she offered in a quiet voice. “If we can’t make them leave, then we must help them.”

“What?” Sundi asked in confusion. The two white locks that accentuated her ash-blonde hair fell over her eyes as she raised her head.

Caisen shook her head in disagreement. “We don’t even know why they are here.”

Naithea lowered her gaze. Hearing their conversation, the despair in their voices, made her want to tell them the truth. She trusted the hetairas with her life, and there was nothing about her past that they didn’t know. But telling them something that could endanger them was a very different thing.

Faithe swept her gaze over each of her friends, the women she’d lived with for the past eight years . . . Her sisters. They were all desperate to find a solution that would keep them from being sold as slaves to unsavory men for less pleasurable trades. The ink marks on her shoulders twisted and shrank as she searched for Naithea’s gaze.

“What are you thinking, Thea?”

The eyes of the ten women suddenly fell on her, seeking her approval.

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