Prologue 2: Stunel
Anika flashed a perfectly sociable, ceremonial smile at the man in the silver mask. Over the dozen or so years she'd worked as madam at Stunel, wealthy nobles had made such offers countless times. They wanted full ownership of the goods after enjoying contract time with them, renewing expired contracts on a whim. But this man had inquired about the pledge right after seeing the merchandise. He must be extraordinarily rich, or utterly smitten at first sight.
"Well, we don't own the girls here. As you know, human trafficking is illegal in the Ashton Empire territories. We merely act as intermediaries to ensure smooth relations between the girls who choose to become merchandise and their clients."
The man's green eyes fixed on Anika. They were so beautiful she wanted to rip off the silver mask covering half his face, from mouth and chin upward.
"Auctions are ongoing here, so shall we move elsewhere, my lord?"
Anika finished in her soft voice, rose from her seat, and left Lily Hall. Hearing the steady click of his shoes following, she led him to the inner study. She waited at the door, lined with high-quality hardcovers like some ancient noble library, and he entered to take the head seat. Anika followed, knelt in a bow, and sat to the side up front.
Soon, a servant carefully placed steaming tea on the antique table. A strong smoky aroma wafted from the brown liquid in the luxurious cup rimmed with silver, mingling with silvery steam.
The man eyed the cup with evident distaste, his lips tightening.
"... Lapsang tea."
Lapsang was a tea that sharply divided tastes, but in the western continent, it was common enough for households, and Ashton nobles generally preferred it.
"Shall I have something else prepared?"
At Anika's question, he gave a slight shake of his chin. He lifted the cup slowly, like swallowing bitter medicine, took a sip, then set it down and pushed it outward with his index finger. She imagined his brow furrowing behind the mask. Guessing his expression, Anika's lips curved faintly.
"Let's continue our earlier talk. If we make a contract today, does it have to be fulfilled only within Stunel?"
"Yes. That's what Stunel is for."
"... And outside Stunel?"
Anika recalled from memory. How much had Florna demanded? Three weeks ago, Florna had knocked on Stunel's gates in shabby clothes, her face weary and exhausted. Her upfront payment demand had been 1,500 gold.
Anika had recognized her value at first glance. With a little polish, she was top-tier. Platinum blondes were rare not just in Eliyum, the west's largest city, but across the entire western continent. And those deep gray eyes gleaming from sharp features were transparent and beautiful as polished gems.
Middle-aged clients, fat and pot-bellied with nothing but money and delusions to compensate for lost youth, would gladly lay down gold-woven carpets for her. So Anika had handed Florna a check on the spot—before even drafting the contract, anxious she might change her mind.
After a week of grooming, rest, nutrition to plump her up, and appraisal, her price was set at 8,000 gold. Even that was profitable given the time and cost, but today this young man had snapped her up for nearly double—15,000 gold. A windfall.
And now he was asking the pledge amount to take her out of Stunel. Jackpot.
Pledges were standardly four times the merchandise price. But for this green-eyed youth, she could adjust with madam privileges.
"First, we'd need Florna's consent. If she agrees, you can pay the pledge and take her."
The man leaned back against the chair.
"The amount?"
A faint smile played at one corner of Anika's lips at his eager question. This masked youth was either filthy rich beyond measure or head-over-heels. Either way, welcome at Stunel.
"Standard is four times the initial price—32,000 gold—but I can adjust within my authority."
He pursed his lips as if annoyed. His expression suggested the sum didn't faze him.
"Final price."
Anika calculated swiftly. This unexpected profit allowed leeway, but he seemed uninterested in haggling. She dismissed the 30,000 she'd first considered. No need to play benefactor unasked.
"35,000 gold."
The silver-masked man nodded decisively, pulling out a checkbook from Ashton Bank. Anika handed him a pen dripping with ink, curiosity piqued about this young man's identity. Even high nobles rarely dropped 35,000 gold—enough for a midsize castle—just for a beauty.
Confirming the amount on the check he handed over, Anika rang the bell on the table. A servant appeared.
Her voice satisfied, like a well-fed lion:
"Bring Florna from behind the Lily Hall stage to the study."
As the thick brown tea in the cups cooled to lukewarm under the study's soft indirect lighting, Florna stood demurely in a thin robe.
The silver-masked man propped his elbow on the sofa arm, chin raised in a languid expression, leisurely appraising her. He seemed pleased by her blank face, eyes fixed straight ahead on the bookshelves.
Observing her like fine art, he finally glanced at Anika.
Meeting those mysterious green eyes, Anika smiled warmly.
"Shall we confirm the merchandise?"
At his nod, she rose and stood beside Florna. 35,000 gold's worth—and in just three weeks. Looking at her, Anika's smile bloomed naturally.
Slipping off the thin robe from her slender frame revealed the same sheer slip from Lily Hall. Anika swiftly untied the knot at her delicate shoulders.
Sarac.
The slip loosened with a whisper and pooled on the floor. Florna's transparent gray eyes, fixed ahead, drifted down to follow it. She looked shy.
The perfect nude of her bowed head was stunning even to Anika, a woman. Flawless symmetrical face; her abundant platinum waves emanated a faint poppy scent. From her white, slender nape, prominent collarbones flowed to full breasts—plump and elastic without undergarments, like dew-kissed orbs. At their centers, pink nipples like a shy girl's lips stood pert, asserting their presence.
The masked man's gaze traveled from her lowered chin, down her collarbones, and lower. The graceful curve from her flat white navel to hips and thighs was breathtakingly dizzying. Lingering on the platinum curls at her core, he beckoned Anika.
Catching his intent, she nodded and spoke.
"Florna, up on the table. Spread your legs."
Florna approached the table before the man. Anika cleared the obstructive teacups, and she sat demurely, knees together. At Anika's arched brow, dismay flickered in her gray eyes. But she turned her head aside in resignation and slowly parted her legs.
Impatient, Anika adjusted her: hips back, legs wide, ankles up on the table. Between her spread snow-white thighs, pink petals lay brazenly exposed.
Extending a hand, he parted her folds left and right, peering inside, then nodded in satisfaction. A definite virgin.
"Stand, turn around, and bend at the waist."
Snapping her legs shut, Florna rose hesitantly from the table. At her slow, stiff movements, Anika again positioned her, presenting her rear.
Faced with flawless, plump white cheeks, he spread them with both hands. Then thrust a long index finger inside.
Overwhelmed by the alien sensation and humiliation, Florna closed her eyes and bit her lip in resignation. Meticulously checking texture and tightness, he nodded to Anika. Virgin there too.
Signaling completion, Anika helped her up and into the robe. Florna's gray eyes were darkly sunken. Her slender shoulders flinched rigidly at Anika's touch.
Anika gently embraced them, guiding her to sit. Florna obeyed, dropping her darkened gaze to the floor below the table.
"Florna, his lordship offers to pay your pledge. Once paid, regardless of contract, you can leave Stunel based on your answer. So, tell us—do you wish to go outside with him?"
Seeing Florna hesitate, lips sealed, Anika lifted her red lips.
This girl desperately needed money. It was rare for an unexperienced virgin to come alone, unprompted, knocking on Stunel's door.
"Once you answer, our contract ends here. Plus, for your faithful fulfillment, you'll get 5% of the pledge as completion bonus."
Their initial contract specified full pledge payment as completion, with a bonus.
"... How much?"
Florna's voice was hushed. The masked man watched her curiously as she spoke. A sunken but beautiful voice.
Anika smiled kindly at her.
"1,500 gold."
Coincidentally, matching what she'd received three weeks ago. Florna's eyes sparkled. But unease flickered as she glanced at the masked man, then hastily looked down.
Stunel and its girls were symbiotic. Reasons they worked here: first, vanity—to wear lavish dresses and play noble in luxury undreamt otherwise, selling youth and beauty. Second, gold scattered like confetti. Third, stability and safety.
Merchandise here got life security and thorough protection. No grave dangers even with all comers. Tricky demands arose, but they were voluntary per contract—no unilateral force. Refuse, forfeit pay.
Outside Stunel, safety was all on her. Even if nightly rates dwarfed street whores' for rare beauty, reality matched Eliyum's cheap alleys. No screening perverts unleashing violence privately; no coping with sudden turns. For a young woman with no ties, fake name, untraceable identity—trouble outside meant self-imposed silence or forced eternal quiet.
That explained Florna's hesitation. But inside Stunel, no contract coercion beyond diligent work. They respected the girls' choices.
Silence fell in the study; her transparent gray eyes wavered in turmoil. Anika waited patiently. The client did too, staring at his half-sipped, abandoned cup.
Finally, Florna lifted her head to the table, eyeing the masked man. Their gazes tangled in the air—her drawing gray depths and his mysterious green probing each other.
Anika watched the young pair with a soft smile. Positive signs.
Resolved at last, Florna parted her lips.
"... I will follow you, my lord."