Dungeons and Dalliances

7.51 – Bordello II

"Well," Natalie said. "To that second part—I'm not naked. Not really."

Vanetta's eyes flicked down, and, a dubious expression appearing, she crossed her arms. "You don't even have your belt on. What if you needed your weapon?"

"Why would I? The city is safe."

"Supposedly."

"The guards deal with violence, anyway. I wouldn't want to pull my weapon and get mixed up in an incident."

Vanetta wrinkled her nose and reluctantly agreed. "Even so."

"And I do have my belt," Natalie said, patting her side—and, despite herself, being a bit surprised when her hand met the leather of her monster core pouch. "I told you, I'm not actually naked. It was a stake. My gear is still on. Only you can see me like this."

"Only me?"

"Er, anyone I'm 'acquainted with'. Which is no one else here."

"Oh." Vanetta adjusted to that announcement. "That's … a weird stake. How many hearts was it?"

"Four."

"That's it?"

"I mean. It's just nudity."

"Public nudity."

"Semi public. But I get your point." She shrugged. "It was better than the five heart. And paid better than the three. So. It was the obvious choice."

"Do I even wanna know?"

"What the five-heart was? No, you don't."

"Seeing how even you didn't take it, I can't imagine."

Natalie narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean? There's plenty I wouldn't take."

"Sure there is." Vanetta cleared her throat. "Anyway. Come with me? I don't like being out here, in these." She idly picked at the see-through flimsy black dress she was wearing, as if trying to adjust it to better preserve her modesty. It did little to help. "Feels like people are looking. Upstairs is private, at least."

"Sure." Natalie stood and pretended to ignore how Vanetta's eyes flicked down her body—which was completely exposed, from her perspective—before darting back up. The rogue abruptly turned, the tips of her ears coloring red as she hurried forward.

"How many runs did you do?" Vanetta asked.

"Just the one. Wanted to make sure I got here in time. Didn't want to leave you hanging."

"Oh, yes. I'm sure your motivation had nothing to do with employing my services."

Natalie laughed. "Don't get me wrong, looking forward to that too. But no, really, it was mostly because I promised. Couldn't let you sit here when I told you I'd come."

Vanetta glanced over her shoulder, met her eyes briefly, then flushed and started walking faster.

The conversation stilled as Vanetta led her through the lobby, into a stairwell, and up into the second floor of the Bordello.

"How many are there, anyway? Floors, I mean."

"Five," Vanetta said. "Three lobbies: the ground floor, third, and fifth. Then there's the second-floor private rooms, and the fourth-floor private rooms."

"What's the difference between the two?"

"Fourth floor is for group activities. Or the crazy stuff."

"The crazy stuff?"n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"Didn't ask, and I don't want to know," she muttered. "No intentions of going up there."

"Not even if I ask nicely?"

She glared over her shoulder and didn't reply.

Upstairs, the scent of perfume was less overwhelming, and thus, other smells were more prevalent. There was also a lot more noise. The walls and doors were soundproofed, but considering the sheer enthusiasm of the occupants, thick walls could only do so much. Vanetta scurried forward, finding the room she'd been assigned to, and honestly, Natalie also hurried through. This was no more her environment than it was Vanetta's, even if she had a more casual attitude toward sex.

Inside, she found more or less what could be expected inside a private Bordello room. It was brightly lit, with brass lamps casting warm, yellow glows through the room—since the twilight of the City didn't provide much natural illumination. A bed dominated the space, a large four-poster with dark wooden posts and lilac-colored bedding. The sheets were pristine, not a stain in sight—thank the heavens—and pillows were piled high with a mix of satin and velvet covers. A matching chaise lounge sat in a corner of the room, its upholstery a faded floral pattern, soft-looking but clearly old.

The floor was covered by a thick rug, edges frayed, but the intricate pattern still visible. Heavy velvet curtains hung over the window, half-drawn, not that there was much light to block from the City's dark sky. To the right of the bed, a small vanity table stood cluttered with glass perfume bottles, a hairbrush, and a silver hand mirror; she doubted Vanetta had touched them.

The air was faintly perfumed, as in the rest of the Bordello, a mix of something floral and with a faint hint of tobacco smoke lingering in the air. A narrow armoire was tucked into the corner opposite the door; it was open, displaying sets of lingerie—Natalie suspected this was where Vanetta had picked out her 'working uniform'. Natalie glimpsed her armor sitting inside. Would she get to see Vanetta try some of the other lingerie sets on?

There was a small table near the edge of the room that held a tray with a crystal decanter of amber liquid and a couple of mismatched glasses. Natalie didn't intend to indulge in any alcohol, whether it was free or not, though she was vaguely tempted. She didn't want to be even slightly impaired, not when dealing with Vanetta; she'd feel more comfortable loosening up that way with maybe Jordan, but when interacting with someone relatively new to her, she preferred to stay sober. Not to mention how she was in the dungeon. Getting drunk on a delve was—a pretty horrible idea, no matter the circumstance.

The last thing Natalie's attention lingered on was the tall, seven-foot oval mirror leaning against the wall opposite the bed. Her lips quirked at that. How prescient of the designers. She really ought to get something like that for her own bedroom, back at Tenet. Should … anything happen on that bed, she would enjoy the extra viewing angles.

"Do I even want to know why you're smiling like that?"

Natalie blinked and faced back to her hostess, who was glaring, having seen Natalie's eyes linger on the mirror. She supposed the lewd ideas she'd had must have been clear on her face. She wiped her expression clean, putting on an innocent look that was mostly intended to annoy Vanetta, who took the bait.

"Pervert," she muttered. "Ugh. I can't believe I'm actually doing this." She stalked over to the armoire and pulled out, surprisingly, a small chalkboard. "Here," she said, thrusting it out to Natalie. "This is the menu. We're required to make one for our customers to look through."