Rather surprisingly Terrence couldn't be found hiding in his favourite brothel, The Fallen Angel. He might be gambling at some horse race or trying to woo ladies of a higher status but it's better than contracting some new pox for the royal physician to try and cure.

I sit in a rather comfortable chair, sipping water from a silver cup and admiring the artwork they used to make the rooms look less like a place men go to to ease their vexations and more like a place nobles would spend the night on a long journey, very very cheap nobles who don't mind the overwhelming stench of sweat and perfume or the sounds of copulation all through the night.

"Meaning no disrespect my prince but why are you still here?" The whore sitting across from me asks, I believe her name is Yen. She's a nice enough girl, a bit thin, a bit pale but she has a rather pretty face and some interesting tattoos that her provocative corset shows glimpses of.

"If I walk into a whorehouse and walk out two minutes afterwards the urchins will sing songs about King Harold the quick for years," I answer. "So for the sake of my reputation the archbishop must wait for another audience with me."

"I grasped that much my prince," Yen claims, "but why are you still sitting there, with your clothes on and not-"

"Same reason I picked you. I haven't seen you here before which means you've been here less than a month and you looked interesting and at this current moment I'd rather talk to someone new and interesting than screw. I also chose you because if Terrence does come here, you're new and thereby his least favourite and it's unlikely he'll wait or search for you and I won't have to run into him."

Yen stares at me thoughtfully for a moment. She conceals the dark rings under her eyes using an odd paint, keeps small red pills in one of the drawers of her chambers, almost all of the whores here do, use them to stay awake.

"I'm Terrence's least favourite?" She says, not sounding offended, just curious.

"Don't feel too bad about it, being his favourite just means you get to listen to him more, it's a miracle that the unfortunate soul granted the title of his favourite hasn't jammed a bread knife down his mouth."

"He's not that bad."

"You've spent thirty nights with him, maybe less, I've spent most of my life with him, believe me when I say he's thrice as insufferable as he seems."

"Why do you suffer him then?"

I pause before answering. I've asked myself that question many times before when soothing feelings he hurt, suppressing scandals he caused and creating lies to mask his truths.

"Because he is my cousin," I sigh. "If he was anyone else he'd be floating down the Rey river all the way to the Black Hallows but he isn't. He's my cousin and despite his insufferability he's tried to attain my respect many times. While failing in that goal every time he managed to attain a small amount of affection from me."

I drum my fingers against the table before continuing to converse.

"What about you?" I inquire. "What does your family consist of?"

"A mother, a father and a sister all back in their homeland," Yen looks as if she's about to spit on the floor but she remembers the company she's with or the facade she's supposed to present to the customers and doesn't. "None of whom have strained themselves much to attain my respect or affection."

"And why do you think they didn't yearn for those things?"

"Why do you-" Yen cuts herself off. "I'm the whore daughter," she says plainly, "the disappointing harlot. Why would they try to love me when they have a daughter who manages to survive using more proper methods?"

""Where is it you're from?" I ask.

"Calcaria."

"That little cluster of islands in the southeast corners of most maps?"

"It's in that cluster, yes."

"Well why did you travel from there to this little cluster of bickering dukes and kings at the northernmost points of most maps? Surely Calcaria had better cities than this with almost none of the risk of being the victim of witchcraft? "

"My dearest parents paid priests to hound and harass me anywhere I went, the only place they couldn't try to whip or humiliate me was the whorehouse where I worked which soon became my prison. That made the many pleasures of Calcaria's cities inaccessible."

"And how did you manage to escape your old whorehouse and cover the many many miles that lead to this one?"

"Paid a workman to sneak me out in an empty wine barrel and bring me to the docks. Then I bought a ticket to a place I never heard of, assuming it'd be far enough away, it brought me here. It cost eight gold pieces to stay on board that deathtrap but I quickly earned it back thrice over, a whore is a much sought after thing on a long journey. That ship sailed north for six months, infrequently docking at ports to sell relics and oddities and for shore leave until it reached some nameless fishing village in Haka. I disembarked there with a full purse, a nice dress and a pretty face. Haka was a bit too religious for my liking so I asked around and heard this was a place of freedom and ease-"

"You heard it was a den of corruption, whores and savagery," I correct. "Most of which is true though those in Haka tend to over exaggerate due to their fondness of religion."

"I heard worse though only half of it sounded true," Yen admits. "I then rode a carriage south for a week and arrived here. Spent a few nights earning a few silvers. Didn't take long for Miss Irene to notice my talent and offer me employment here."

"Have you ever considered any other career?"

"Pleasure was the first thing I was good at," Yen shrugs. "Pays better than any other thing I could try, the brothels ensure my safety and that my clients are lonely merchants and lords not toothless diseased sailors and workmen."

"What about your tattoos? Did they come before or after reaching my kingdom?"

"Most came before, one came during and some came after. One of my clients was an artist who gave me a very generous discount. Got most of them because I thought they looked pretty, my other clients agreed and my current ones share similar opinions."

"You let a sailor on a boat in rough seas etch something into your skin?"

"He cleaned his tools before each use and I'd seen plenty of his work on the other sailors' bodies to know he was good at it. You can see it if you'd like."

"Why not?" I shrug, gesturing plainly.

With deft fingers her corset falls to the ground impressively quickly revealing a rather impressive collection of ink on skin. A flower here, a collection of vines and roots there, all grouping together to form a rather intricate and impressive collage. A snake eating its own tail encircles her navel, the roots of a flower entwine together to form complex patterns and two angels facing each other are etched into her hips. None of this is done thoughtlessly, care was put into making sure each tattoo worked well with the other.

"Which one is it?" I find myself asking.

"It's on my back," she answers grinning. She turns away from me, revealing a large tree tattooed onto her back, it's roots trail down her spine, getting thinner and thinner until eventually disappearing entirely.

"He was a rather skilled artist," I conclude. "For a sailor."

Mere seconds after it happened I had already forgotten what she said or did to convince me to do it but my clothes were laying in a neat pile on the ground and I was laying in a fun tangle with Yen in her bed, ensuring that the songs of king Harold the quick will remain firmly within in the realm of fiction.

"You know there's a private entrance and exit," Yen states, smiling as she lays wonderfully naked beside me.

"No I did not," I say, with a chuckle. "How long has that been a feature?"

"I do not know my prince," she adds the 'prince' teasingly, "I just meet the more discreet customers there and escort them out when they are satisfied."

"I was never quite fond of being discreet in a place like this," I sigh, rising from the comfortable bed and begin to clothe myself. "The people won't wish to dethrone me just because I share a hobby with most of them."

"I don't doubt it," Yen yawns as she too rises and retrieves her clothes. As soon as they are hidden from me my mind obsesses over the etchings that have been covered.

"I shall escort you out," she says as soon as I've finished lacing my boots.

"I've been coming here for a bit over three years," I point out. "I'm fairly confident in my ability to find the normal way out."

"Miss Irene says we're supposed to-"

"Then you may escort me," I say as I don my cloak. "Lead on."

The Fallen Angel was once a monastery or temple of some sort but when my ancestors conquered this was one of the first places they defiled. They held orgies, enslaved and sacrificed the previous priests and allegedly my progenitor met and raped his wife there, beginning the long long lineage that eventually leads to me all within these stone walls. Things have been added, removed, hidden and obliterated, it has changed hands, been bankrupted, shut down and abandoned more times than one can count but it's always been brought back and always as a whorehouse, it'd be strange if it was anything else at this point.

The decorations are oddly fitting, large statues of handsome men whose names have been long forgotten stand in the halls and bars watching the sin unfold before them while occasionally being used as coat hangers, lewd women are carved into certain walls to be briefly looked at every now and then and two rooms that were once places of sacrifice and prayer are now used for the more debaucherous arrangements in this whorehouse.

Yen leads me through these halls and past the alluring decor hastily, her arm linked with mine presumably to convince other clients she managed to attain my love. Occasionally I spy a noble trying to hide their face from the common folk here and grizzled war veterans staring blankly at dancers. There's never a shortage of lonely or bored men willing to spend their coin, hard earned or otherwise on a few hours of pleasure, regardless of the time of day.

It takes five minutes before we reach the main door. Everytime man leaves through those doors another bumps shoulders with them as they enter. Glorified urchins run around serving drinks and taking orders while whores stand around picking clients to seduce.

"It's been a wonderful afternoon," I say simply. "I do hope to see you again."

"It was fun," Yen agrees. "Good day to you, my prince."

I walk to the door but as soon as my hand grips the cold brass handle I feel the sudden urge to do something I shouldn't. Controlling such impulses was never something I was much good at. I turn on my heel and quickly walk back to Yen who had already turned around. I tap her on the shoulder and briefly she looks surprised but quickly recovers.

"Are you not satisfied my prince?" She says coyly with a grin. "I'm more than certain Miss Irene won't mind you booking another one or two hours"

"How about six?" I ask.

"My prince!" She exclaims unsurprisingly, either offended or afraid, perhaps both. "Surely even you could not could not go on for such a length of time? And regardless of that I certainly cannot no matter how-"

"I was going to simply walk around the city," I cut across her.

"Your pardon?" Yen says after a pause.

"I don't feel like hunting down my cousin, my brother would only annoy me and while I'm sure I can entertain myself while alone I would much rather have company," I further. "Are you opposed to being that company?"

"Oh," Yen says quietly.

"Oh?" I question after she doesn't say anything further.

"It's not that I don't wish to, it's just that Miss Irene says we're not supposed to go to private locations with-"

"And I'm supposed to make reservations the day before coming if I want anything more than to watch the dancers," I state. "It seems very clear to me that Miss Irene makes exceptions for those of my status."

Yen hesitates to answer.

"If you don't wish to come it is fine," I yawn. "As I said I'm rather certain I can entertain myself."

"No! No, it'd be a pleasure to accompany you my prince."

"Wonderful!" I exclaim, beckoning the nearest urchin over. He's a small child barely reaches my knee and his hair is rather unkempt but his employers have dressed him in fine enough clothes and ensured he had and continues to have all of his teeth. I drop to one knee, withdraw a silver crown and hold it in front of his face.

"You recognize me don't you, boy?" I inquire.

"Course I do!" He lies, clearly insulted. "You might as well-"

"That's good," I cut across the boy. "Now you're to take this token of my gratitude to your lovely employer and inform her that I'll in turn be bringing that lovely lady around the city."

The boy stares at me blankly.

"Take this coin to Irene and tell her I'm bringing her to places other than this one," I simplify pressing the gold into his hand. "Doing so now would be recommendable."

The boy scurries off without a word and I rise to my feet.

"After you," I say politely, opening the door for her.