Chapter 23: Blackrose Red Light District, Night (1) (Patreon)

In a quiet street pierced only by moonlight, a nondescript house was lying empty beside a decrepit church. Or that's what the faded windows tried to suggest.

At odds with the surroundings, a man and a woman dressed in gaudy formal attire strolled up to the door. They knocked, and after speaking through a latch, were permitted inside by an unseen doorman.

In the brief window that the door was open, the din of a crowd could be heard. Somewhere inside the worn house, a series of corridors led to a grand underground estate. And that's where the auction for some of Blackrose's finest and most illicit wares were put on public display.

The paying public, that is.

It was very much a cloak and daggers affair. Except that none of the guests were likely to have been trained in the shadowed arts.

Next to me was Magnus. Sadly, he was currently the only thing keeping me company, and was busying himself by frowning at the latest man to knock on the door. The gentleman did it loudly enough to cause a return knock in anger from the doorman, apparently hinting that he'd gotten the message.

“Why the fuck do they strut around like that and still bother with a secret door?”

I gave it a moment's consideration.

It was, to be fair, not a bad question.

“I suppose it's part of the act they want to play.”

“Shit act. Who are they pretending to be? Fucking morons?”

“Yeah. In that case, that makes it a superb act.”

Magnus carefully considered my statement. Then, he nodded.

“Fair enough.”

I rolled my eyes, then returned to standing sentry by the street corner.

It felt strange to simply be standing around here. Stranger still how quiet it was. This was very much the heart of the Red Light District, and yet only a few souls could be seen, wandering past the mouth of this street yet never walking into it.

The prostitutes that worked this district and the men who hired them were enough to form their own small town, but it felt as if that town was a distinct street away from this one. The quiet wasn't helped by the fact that all Magnus and I had to entertain ourselves was offering the occasional comment on those entering the house.

I always missed Iris. But I missed her most when she wasn't here to lay waste to Magnus's ego. Of all the small joys in life, that was assuredly one of the best ones.

Perhaps the man beside me thought the same. He smiled, even though there was nobody to casually insult.

“She's late,” he said, somewhat perkily.

I raised an eyebrow.

“Why does that make you happy?”

“Because she's an angry bitch who loves to complain, and this time, I get to.”

I thought about whether or not I needed to defend Iris's dignity, but quickly decided I didn't have to. She would happily defend her own. Later, I'd simply relay what Magnus had said and watch the consequences unfold.

Still, it was an unmistakable statement of fact that Iris wasn't just late. She was very late. I wouldn't be surprised if the bidding had already started, although ours wouldn't begin until later.

Unbelievably, Iris still wasn't finished when Baron Renfont himself suggested it was the correct time to make the most discreet entrance. The maids had insisted even as we left that finishing touches were still needed. Back then, Magnus and I believed we'd only need to kill a few minutes of time at most.

An hour later, the maids were apparently still finishing their touches.

“I'm sure the maids are delighted,” I suggested. “They get to dress up Iris. It's probably rare that they get to do their thing with anyone other than the Baron's wife.”

Magnus practically scoffed.

“Nah. They're just pissy after getting on the wrong side of her.” Suddenly, the man turned to me, flashing an innocent grin. “Not that she did anything. Just women being women.”

I returned a wry smile.

He didn't know I was already aware of why the maids would be annoyed with Iris.

It was still incredible to me that Iris would name drop herself as the Sword Princess just to hurry the maids out of his guest room. It was a scandalous use of her role. Especially for what she had ejected them to do in their stead.

Looking at Magnus now, with his satisfied smile, I couldn't help but feel another deep shot of envy. There was only one reason he could smile like that so often these days, and it was because Iris's eroticness was something only he could monopolise in person.

And that was something we both knew.

“I've arrived … finally. I apologise for the delay.”

At last, a familiar voice stole our attention from behind.

The act of casually judging every rich person to play at secrecy tonight had already become so engrained that we'd forgotten why we'd soon be joining them.

I turned around, about to ask Iris what had taken the better part of the entire day to accomplish.

And then I discovered the answer right in front of me.

In fact, I realised immediately that I had been wrong to assume that Iris had taken too long.

After all, was it not unheard of for princesses to take hours to don their clothes?

Iris, right now, could not be described as anything else.

“No comments, please,” said the beautiful girl, crossing her arms in embarrassment. “I don't need them. Kindly refrain from saying anything.”

That was an easy request to honour.

As it was, speaking was suddenly extremely difficult.

Iris looked immaculate. She was immaculate. And now I could see where all those mystery hours had been spent.

It'd been on everything.

Iris was wearing a shoulderless dark blue dress, perfectly fitting her form. Beneath her bust was a black sash, tied into a large bow. It was a beautiful dress which caught in the moonlight, showing off her slender figure as well as her more sizeable assets.

The dress was cut short, revealing her milky-white legs all the way up to her shapely thighs, and was accentuated by the ankle-strapped high heels which only ever increased her already stunning height.

It wasn't just the amount of her skin which was generous. The dress showed off her thin waist while making no effort to hide her huge bust. The front bodice was trimmed to allow a devastating look at Iris's cleavage. As she crossed her arms together, that insane valley of hers only became more prominent.

But there was more than simply the dress and the high heels which caused her to shine. Various accessories were being worn to promote her image of a dignified young lady. There was a fine necklace of tiny pearls around her neck. A silver ring with a green gemstone adorned one hand, while a glass bracelet adorned the other. Small earrings glittered from her ears, despite her usually never wearing any. An almost indiscernible light gave away that they were enchanted to be held in place.

A faint blush was on her cheeks, which I knew wasn't solely from the embarrassment she must have felt at wearing such a formal dress. Her already fair skin was slightly milkier. It could only have been the work of cosmetics.

I was frankly stunned. It was a recent invention that only the insanely wealthy could afford. Even her eyelashes had been curled. The thin shadows beneath her eyes were not the result of tiredness, but the careful dabbing of an artist to allow her dazzling blue eyes to shine in contrast. Her lips glistened with a pink, velvety gloss, while a deep fragrance of orchids and summer nights lingered around her.

Lipstick and perfume. The maids had spared no inch of her body.

Finally, there was her hair.

It was no longer flowing past her shoulders, but held up into the form of an elegant, slightly twisting golden bun. Her slender neckline was on full display, and I knew that her immaculate skin would have shone even without the aid of the moonlight upon her.

Iris could have been the daughter to the highest aristocracy. It was no exaggeration to say that she could have been the princess to her own kingdom. And going by the looks that the passing residents of the city was giving her, they were wondering how they could become her subjects.

It wasn't even the usual looks of lust which held the enthralled men. It was simply awe. Here was a flower delicate enough that it was forbidden to even touch her. That was the effect of her beauty.

For a long moment, I was too speechless to say anything.

Magnus, however, didn't have the same inhibitions.

“Damn. The princess you rob not leave a tiara behind? Could sell it.”

Iris raised an eyebrow.

“I did not rob a princess, thank you.”

“What? Just threatened one to hand everything over? Same thing. You don't have to actually touch them for it to count as robbery. Guard told me that once.”

“Thank you for the clarification on the point of law, Magnus. But regardless of the frankly suspect circumstances in which you conversed with a guard, I would like to repeat that I still did not, in fact, rob a princess.”

“Yeah, well, we're not the watch. Explain that to them, not us.”

Iris clicked her tongue.

Their exchange of words woke me from my daze, particularly as I realised that since she was my girlfriend, I should have said something first.

“You look ...”

Iris turned to me. She smiled expectantly.

“Yes?”

“Like the Sword Princess,” I finished lamely.

Far from looking irritated at my lack of creativity, Iris gave a self-derisive snort.

“The Sword Princess,” she replied darkly, “currently does not have a sword. What will we do if a situation arises? This is a terrible idea. And this dress, these pieces of jewellery. They needlessly restrict movement. This necklace alone is a dangerous liability in close quarters.”

She reached up and adjusted her necklace.

Even her polished fingernails caught the light. Whatever issues the maids had with her, it hadn't been enough to not meticulously prepare her for leaving every man and woman to catch sight of her gawking like an idiot.

“The dress looks great on you, though,” I said, smiling wryly. “But not at all like you robbed it from royalty. More like a duke's daughter. Not enough gemstones.”

Iris sighed.

I was relieved that she didn't click her tongue at me. It seemed that on the grand scale of things, she preferred the thought she was less likely to provoke a response from the law as a result of only looking like she robbed a member of the higher nobility.

Secretly, I agreed with Magnus. If she wore a crown, few would see her as anything other than royalty. She looked as flawless as her dress, and yet also as inviolable as a sister at a cloister. Even as I wanted to take her hand, I felt the urge to respect her from afar like a work of art.

Nobody could touch her.

Nobody, I knew, except a man who wouldn't think twice about staining such a perfect painting.

Even as I took in Iris's glamorous figure, I couldn't help but feel the other gaze admiring it also. And despite the situation, despite being on the doorstep to another mission …

I wondered what Iris would look like if her inviolable state was despoiled.

“Six hours,” she said, her tired voice helping to sweep away some of the shameful thoughts settling into my mind.

“What?”

“Six hours,” she repeated. “Six hours, those maids … toyed with me.”

I swallowed a gulp, daring to offer my response. If she lashed out, it'd at least calm my body. It was hard to think about anything other than survival while enduring Iris's wrath.

“... I think it was worth it,” I said.

Iris narrowed her eyes.

No doubt she had a hundred things she wanted to say regarding the worth of her time.

However, in the end, she simply nodded towards our objective, and the newest pair of people pretending to be discreet as they approached it.

“We're late. Let's see to our task before something decides to drop from the sky and ruins the dress.”

I nodded and straightened my back. In a flash, my thoughts returned to the task at hand.

“Agreed. Let's get ourselves a secret artifact, whatever this toy of the nobility's is.”

I began heading towards the house, then became immediately aware that there were no footsteps following me.

Turning around, I saw that Iris had made it one step before something in the form of Magnus's huge arm was blocking her.

“What's wrong?” she said, her alert eyes taking in our surroundings.

However, there was nothing there. Only Magnus's arm, and the lecherous appearance on his face.

“Being proper.” Magnus grinned. “Princess needs an escort, right?”

My shock almost knocked me off my feet.

Magnus wasn't just blocking Iris with his arm. He was offering it out to her.

I didn't know what had gotten into him. Even as a joke, it was too much. Iris was more likely to punch him for the suggestion than to accept it.

And so, I turned to Iris, expecting to see her frowning while deciding where exactly she was going to strike as punishment for Magnus overstepping his bounds.

Instead, she wore an expression of bemusement.

“If you allude to me robbing a princess again, I will strangle you with something that wasn't designed as a weapon.”

Then, Iris casually reached out her arm and hooked it around Magnus's.

My heart thumped as my mouth opened wordlessly.

Iris had not hesitated.

This was a man she ordinarily wouldn't even give permission to look at her. And yet her slender arm was now hooked around Magnus's, just like a lady being escorted by a gentleman.

Just like a couple.

With her arm around the other man's, Iris's beautiful eyes briefly turned towards me, before then glancing downwards.

“... Well?” she said, wearing a meaningful smile. “Let's enjoy the evening, shall we?”