The Golden Rose was not what I had expected from a bordel. Instead of the tawdry establishment I had imagined, I found myself standing before an elegant mansion on the outskirts of the noble quarter. Soft light spilled from tall windows, and the sound of refined laughter drifted through the evening air.
I had left the castle before dawn, carrying a letter of introduction that I had forged in Lord Aldric's hand. The man himself had departed for the capital, taking only his most trusted servants. I had chosen not to follow him, at least not yet. The Golden Rose offered opportunities that a minor lord's household could not provide.
The doorman was a mountain of a man, dressed in velvet livery that did nothing to hide the weapons he carried. His eyes assessed me with professional interest as I approached.
"I'm here to see Madame Cordelia," I said, offering him the letter. "Lord Aldric sent me."
He read the letter carefully, his lips moving slightly as he worked through the words. Finally, he nodded and stepped aside. "Third door on the left, up the main staircase. She's expecting someone, though she didn't mention it would be a girl."
I smiled sweetly. "Lord Aldric has particular tastes."
The doorman's laugh was knowing. "Don't they all. Go on up then."
The interior of the Golden Rose was even more impressive than its exterior. Rich tapestries hung from the walls, and the air was perfumed with exotic incense. Beautiful women in silk gowns moved through the rooms, their laughter musical and their eyes sharp with intelligence.
This was no common brothel. This was where the nobility came to indulge their desires away from the prying eyes of court. Which made it exactly the kind of place where I could gather information and influence.
I climbed the main staircase, my borrowed dress rustling softly against the marble steps. The third door was made of dark wood, carved with intricate roses. I knocked softly.
"Enter," a voice called from within.
Madame Cordelia was perhaps forty years old, with the kind of beauty that came from careful maintenance and superior breeding. Her auburn hair was piled high in an elaborate style, and her green silk gown was cut to display her considerable assets to best advantage. But it was her eyes that captured my attention. They were pale blue and utterly calculating.
"You're not what I expected," she said, setting down her wine glass. "When Lord Aldric's letter mentioned a new girl, I assumed he meant someone more... experienced."
"I'm experienced in ways that matter," I replied, moving closer to her desk. "I can read and write, I speak three languages, and I know how to keep secrets."
"Useful skills, to be sure. But can you please a man?" Her gaze traveled over me appraisingly. "My clients expect a certain level of... enthusiasm."
"I can be very enthusiastic when properly motivated."
Madame Cordelia laughed, a sound like silver bells. "Clever answer. But cleverness alone won't satisfy a duke who's had too much wine and too little attention from his wife."
I leaned across her desk, letting my voice drop to a whisper. "What if I told you I could make any man believe he was the most desired person in the world? What if I could make him desperate to return, to spend everything he had for just one more moment of that feeling?"
Her eyes sharpened with interest. "I would say you were either lying or very dangerous."
"Perhaps both."
Madame Cordelia studied me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she stood and walked to the window, gazing out at the moonlit gardens below.
"Lord Aldric's letter was quite specific about your... talents. He mentioned that you had a gift for making people tell you things they shouldn't." She turned back to me. "Is that true?"
"Men tend to be talkative when they're relaxed."
"Indeed they do. And some of my clients have been far too talkative lately." Her expression grew troubled. "There are rumors circulating about certain political figures. Dangerous rumors that could destabilize the kingdom."
I felt a thrill of excitement. This was exactly the kind of information I needed. "What sort of rumors?"
"The kind that get people burned for treason. But also the kind that could be very valuable to the right buyer." She moved back to her desk, her fingers drumming against the polished wood. "I need someone who can extract information without the client realizing what's happening. Someone who can make them believe they're simply enjoying themselves."
"I can do that."
"Can you? Because if you're caught, or if you make a mistake, it won't just be your life on the line. This establishment has survived for twenty years because I'm very careful about who I trust."
I understood the warning. But I also understood the opportunity. The Golden Rose was a perfect position from which to gather intelligence about the nobility, to identify potential allies and enemies. It was also a place where I could hone my skills with the Crimson Kiss System.
"What would you need me to do?"
"There's a man who comes here every week. Count Ravencrest. He's been drinking heavily and talking about things that could get him executed." She reached into her desk and withdrew a small portrait. "He's become careless, and that makes him dangerous to all of us."
I studied the portrait. Count Ravencrest was perhaps fifty years old, with the soft features of a man who had lived comfortably all his life. His eyes held a weakness that the artist had tried to disguise but failed to hide completely.
"You want me to find out what he knows?"
"I want you to find out everything. Who he's working with, what his plans are, and most importantly, whether he represents a threat to this establishment." Madame Cordelia's expression was serious. "If he does, then we'll need to decide what to do about him."
The implication was clear. Count Ravencrest might not survive his next visit to the Golden Rose if he proved too dangerous. The thought should have disturbed me, but instead I felt a dark satisfaction. The system stirred with anticipation, eager to taste new power.
"When does he usually come?"
"Tomorrow night. He always requests the same room, the same wine, the same type of girl." She smiled coldly. "Creatures of habit are so much easier to manage."
"And what type of girl does he prefer?"
"Young, innocent, preferably frightened. He enjoys the feeling of power." Her expression grew disgusted. "He's not violent, but he's not gentle either. Can you handle that?"
I thought of all the things I had endured, all the betrayals and humiliations. Count Ravencrest's particular appetites seemed almost quaint by comparison.
"I can handle it."
"Good. Because if you can prove yourself with him, there will be other opportunities. I have clients who are much more important, much more valuable." She opened a drawer and withdrew a small leather pouch. "This is your advance. Room and board are included, and you'll receive a percentage of whatever the client pays."
I accepted the pouch, feeling the weight of gold coins within. "What about my background? Won't your clients be suspicious if I appear from nowhere?"
"You're a minor noble's daughter, fallen on hard times. Your family lost their lands to creditors, and you're working to pay off their debts." She smiled. "It's a common enough story, and it appeals to their sense of superiority."
"Clever."
"I didn't build this business by being foolish. Now, let me show you to your room. You'll want to rest before tomorrow night."
Madame Cordelia led me through corridors lined with expensive artwork and fresh flowers. The Golden Rose was indeed a palace of pleasure, designed to make its clients feel like kings. But I could also see the careful security measures, the discrete guards, the subtle signs that this was a place where secrets were currency and information was power.
My room was on the second floor, elegantly appointed with silk curtains and a comfortable bed. A wardrobe held an array of gowns in various styles, from demure to scandalous. Everything I would need to play whatever role the clients desired.
"Dinner is served at seven," Madame Cordelia said. "You'll eat with the other girls. They'll tell you what you need to know about the clients and the rules." She paused at the door. "And Seraphina? A word of advice. In this business, the women who survive are the ones who remember that they're predators, not prey."
After she left, I explored my new quarters. The room was comfortable but not luxurious, clearly designed for someone who was valuable but not irreplaceable. There was a small desk where I could write, a window that looked out over the gardens, and a mirror that reflected my transformed appearance.
The woman looking back at me was no longer the broken slave who had crawled from the dungeons. She was poised, elegant, dangerous. The system had changed me in ways that went beyond mere power, reshaping me into something that could move through the world of nobility and pleasure with equal ease.
I spent the afternoon preparing for my new role. I practiced expressions in the mirror, tried on different gowns, and studied the layout of the establishment. By evening, I felt ready for whatever Count Ravencrest might bring.
Dinner was served in a private dining room, where I met the other women who worked at the Golden Rose. They were a diverse group, ranging from barely eighteen to nearly thirty, but all shared a certain hardness around the eyes that spoke of experience with the darker appetites of powerful men.
"So you're the new girl," said a striking brunette named Violet. "Madame Cordelia says you're special. What's your talent?"
"I'm good at listening," I replied carefully.
"We're all good at listening, darling. The question is whether you're good at forgetting." A blonde named Celeste laughed bitterly. "The clients pay extra for discretion."
"Some of them pay extra for other things too," added a redhead named Scarlett. "Just remember that you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. Madame Cordelia protects us, but only if we're smart about it."
I listened to their conversation, learning the unspoken rules of the establishment. The women here were skilled professionals, not desperate victims. They chose their clients carefully, set their own boundaries, and looked out for each other. It was a far cry from the brutal world I had expected.
"What can you tell me about Count Ravencrest?" I asked during a lull in the conversation.
"Careful with that one," Violet warned. "He's got strange ideas about what women should enjoy. Nothing dangerous, but he likes to feel in control."
"He tips well though," Celeste added. "And he's usually too drunk to last very long."
"The important thing is to make him feel powerful," Scarlett said. "Let him think he's conquering you, and he'll be happy."
I nodded, filing away their advice. But I had my own plans for Count Ravencrest. The system pulsed with anticipation, eager to taste the secrets he carried. Tomorrow night, I would discover just how much information a well-placed kiss could extract.
After dinner, I returned to my room and prepared for bed. Through my window, I could see the lights of the capital glowing in the distance. Somewhere out there, the three men who had betrayed me were living their lives in comfort and security.
Darian Valthorne, the prince who had claimed to love me while planning my destruction. Kael Draven, the general who had shared my bed and my secrets before leading me to the pyre. Lucien Ashford, the sorcerer who had bound me with magic and then watched me burn.
They thought they were safe. They thought the Crimson Queen was nothing but ash and memory.
They were wrong.
I closed my eyes and let the system show me visions of the power I could claim. With each kiss, each stolen secret, each absorbed memory, I would grow stronger. The Golden Rose would be my hunting ground, its clients my prey.
And when I was finally ready, when I had gathered enough power and allies, I would return to claim what was mine.
The crown. The kingdom. And the lives of the men who had dared to betray me.
Tomorrow night, my real education would begin.