The walk was an uneventful one. She stopped by the merchant to see if she could negotiate the price down, but he wouldn’t budge. He had already affirmed that one silver was him selling his skills at a loss, and going down anymore for “a person at Nira’s status” would be bad for his business and reputation. A liar and a crook. She didn’t bother pestering him more; she knew it would have been pointless.

When she came back, most women had already started dinner. A short line hugged the wall in the space right outside the Courtesan Quarters, and a few guards were serving food from a giant iron pot onto wooden plates.

It was smosh and slosh. It wasn’t actually called smosh and slosh. The proper name for it was “orridge”, but nobody called it that; everyone, including the guards, called it smosh and slosh. Some sort of brown, poroto bean paste overpoweringly seasoned with cayenne and garlic, and as always, it was over-salted. It was not the best thing they were given, but at the end of the day, it was better than grey goop. Smosh and slosh at least had a taste and a smell. Grey goop had neither. It wasn’t bad or good; it just staved off the hunger. But grey goop would have been a fitting meal to end today. Nira joined the end of the small line.

Looking around, Cheril was sitting with their group of friends, Milda and Ja. They all had helped Nira during her darkest nights and coldest thoughts, but curses, she didn’t want to be a greater burden upon them. Cheril, Milda, Ja – they all had done so much for her. There was one person who wasn’t there: Odilia. She was the first friend Nira made after being taken, and she was the one who had done the most for Odilia and doing it for nothing in return.

Odilia was much younger than Milda and Ja, so she was still considered prime meat by the clients. She was sent up there too many times, and everytime it was Nira or Cheril's turn with a client, Odilia would take their place instead, even though it wasn’t allowed. Using nearly all the money she received, she bribed the guards to stay quiet about the arrangement. It was never about the money with Odilia. Instead, she always said that she was born in this filth and she would die in this filth, but Nira and Cheril were different. They deserved more out of life. It wasn’t until Odilia left that Cheril or Nira had their first client. It was then that Milda and Ja stepped in to help the both of them survive their grim nights.

“NEXT,” the female guard serving the food shouted.

Surfacing from her thoughts, Nira suddenly realized she was at the front of the line. She walked up to the serving table, her body heavy. Soon dinner would be over, and another wasteful night would begin, trying to please a man who wanted nothing from her.

“HOLD THIS,” the guard commanded.

Nira reflexively grabbed what she was being given, a wooden plate. The guard quickly put four scoops of the smosh and slosh on her plate and threw two pieces of bread on top to accompany them. Truly a meal for champions.

“NEXT!”

Now came the hardest part. She took all the raw emotion that had gathered inside of her, wrapped it up in a layer of aloofness, and tucked it neatly in a corner of her thoughts she wouldn’t check until after dinner. Or atleast try not to check. She then put on her best smile and walked towards her friends. They didn’t deserve to bear her pain.

...

“-look at her, she isn’t here at all.”

“So it would seem.”

“Wonder what happened to her.”

Nira plopped down and saw everyone looking at her. How long had they been talking about her?

“Are you alright?” Cheril asked.

“Y-y- yes, I am perfectly fine,” she replied, but her plan to hide her pain fell apart as soon as she parted her lips, for her voice immediately gave way to her true feelings. Her feeble attempt to be stoic didn’t even last a moment.

“Dear, please tell us what’s wrong,” Milda pleaded quietly. Her words were as gentle as they were insistent. “We would love to help.”

“When have we ever refused to help you? We are your friends. Milda, Ja, and I will never abandon you. Trust us,” Cheril added, her voice even softer than Milda’s.

Money was a very sensitive topic with all the women here. Nobody ever had enough, and everyone wanted more. If it was a piece or two of copper, her friends would give it to her, no questions asked. But it was hundreds of copper. Nobody would even loan her fifty copper, so why trouble her friends asking for hundreds? Milda and Ja were old. They weren’t sent up to satisfy the nobles anymore, so most of their earnings came from servant duties. That meant a few hundred copper pieces was almost a year’s salary for them. Cheril, on the other hand, was able to earn more despite usually not getting the chance to be a partner to the guests. Her father used to be a noble around the border, and thus Cheril got a proper education growing up. This meant she got opportunities to perform more advanced duties, like being a scribe. Her intelligence really shone there. Still, it paid only slightly better than the menial work Milda and Ja did, because she got taxed more. A few hundred copper pieces would still be more than half a year’s salary for her.

“It's nothing,” she lied. Nira’s stomach turned at even the thought of asking them.

“It isn’t nothing Nira. I saw you this morning. You looked like a sponge wrung of water,” Cheril replied.

Nira couldn’t respond.

“Dear, it isn’t healthy to keep these things bottled up. When I was your age, I sometimes felt the same way you do now. That feeling of your entire life shattering around you. Trust me when I say that, even though you might want to try and make this pain entirely your own, you will feel much better if you share it. It already hurts us to see you like this, so let us help you. Please, dear,” Milda said.

Nira sobbed a little. She didn’t know why. She had kept her composure the entire day, so why must she break now?

Milda immediately rushed over and hugged Nira. “Oh dear, oh dear. Don’t cry,” Milda said as she stroked Nira’s hair with one hand and squeezed her with the other. The hug was tight. Tight yet protective, the kind a mother gives her child after seeing them fall. A hug that was full of anxiety and concern, and yet, wrapped her with love and safety. Nira buried herself in Milda’s chest and let her emotions flow, and not just the ones from last night. She let out a year of fighting the monsters in her head. Monsters of missing her family. Monsters of cruel nights in strangers’ hands. Monsters of always trying to be stronger than her pain.

She felt weak. So very weak. Milda was right in many ways, but she was wrong in one. Her life wasn’t shattering around her; it already had. It had shattered the day she was taken, almost one and a half years ago, and she had been trying to mend it back together ever since, but like a puzzle missing a piece, nothing could make her whole again. This wasn’t where Nira was supposed to be. This wasn’t where Nira wanted to be. She should be at home in Hanbur with her parents, not grieving in some embellished dungeon.

She stayed in Milda’s arms. The warmth was good comfort to her numb heart.

A few moments passed.

“Ya know we ain’t stupid, right?” Ja finally quipped, her words rough and infused with her Simirillan accent that made every vowel sound the same. She had been idly chewing on her smosh and slosh, but now it looked like she would burst out laughing.

Milda scowled at her, but Ja just shrugged and continued, “It’s that stupid and expensive wooden toy, isn’t it? That’s what got you all worked up, no? Cheril said she heard you mention it a few days ago but didn’t think much of it.”

Nira blinked. “You all knew?”

“Course we did, ya dip! Well, Milda didn’t, but me and Cheril, we guessed. So why ya worked up about a dumb wooden toy?”

“It’s because...” Nira told them everything. What the toy meant to her. How rare it was for a merchant to make something like that. How expensive it was. She told them the complete and honest truth about everything except… except for how much going to the upper floors hurt her. She knew that she was throwing around a lot of money, and eventually, she would need to make it back, but the pain of doing so would be worth it. Though, she couldn’t talk about the pain. It was obvious that behind all their kind words, each one of her friends was fighting her own battle, and she didn’t want to open another front in their wars.