House of the Scarlet Rose Pt. 01

Note: English is not my first language so I hope there aren't many stylistic or grammatical errors.

*

The city was much calmer than he expected. He had to admit, as far as first impressions went this wasn't the most captivating sight.

Before Anri arrived yesterday evening, he was imagining lit-up streets, great buildings reaching up to the sky, dwarfing the single-storied cottages of his village, and stone-paved roads that wouldn't leave his shoes (which were in dire need of repairs) filled with dirt. And people. Overjoyed people, dressed in the nice city clothes unlike his own, walking down the streets, casually chatting about everyday thrills of their higher lives.

Instead he got guards yelling at him for arriving too late and almost stayed locked out behind the gates until morning and he wasn't even in yet! The city itself was as dark as it got despite the lit lanterns and burning fire cages, scarcely scattered through the alleys. The buildings reminded him more of stacks of houses piled atop each other, threatening to fall over on him every second, and on the streets one had to pay attention to their every step if they didn't want trip over loosened cobble or step into a refuse of questionable origin. And the people? Maybe it was the ungodly hour but every time he saw someone they were either yelling drunks or the type that made him cross the street just so he didn't have to pass them. But he had no choice but to get used to it. He had nowhere else to go now.

"So you're Ms. Margarete's nephew?" asked Jarill as she led him up a wide, well-kept looking road to what would presumably be his new home.

"Yes," Anri answered unenthusiastically. The girl next to him was tall, though not taller than him even though she claimed to be older. She had pale hazel hair, appearing dark gold in the scarce light of lanterns and a face that would make a statue smile with its warm joy. When he met her outside a tavern just before midnight, she was such a contrast to the rest of the scenery he couldn't help but stare. After they got into a conversation she offered to continue it inside and next to some food. He must have truly looked lost.

"Well not really," he corrected himself. "She's my stepmother's sister. She never really talked about her unless asked, and that didn't usually result in a very productive conversation. I took it she didn't like her very much."

"Phew," she sighed and shot him a smile. "How fortunate than that she sent you to her when your village was attacked. She could not harbor as much of a grudge if she entrusts her with taking care of you. We would have never met otherwise."

That was true, though as far as he knew, he didn't have any other family outside of his aunt. He wasn't sure where else he would go if not for his stepmother's words after the village got overrun.

He smirked at her flirting and responded with a warmer tone. "Well, I have to say it was like fate, meeting you here. And when... wait," he stopped. "Why the relief Margarete's not truly my aunt?"

She made a somewhat wicked smile. "Well, because than we're not truly cousins."

"Wait, what?" he spat out. That took him off guard. "You're Margarete's daughter? I didn't even know she had one!"

When it got out during their talk that Jarill knew Margarete, Anri felt like he could breathe again. It brought back some of his hope, and for the first time since he left home he didn't feel lost. But this was not exactly what he had expected.

"Yes," she confessed a bit bitterly. "Though she and aunt Rosaria didn't have the best of relationships. Aunt was always rigorously religious and very judgmental. It cut off a lot of relationship for her, or so mother told me. She probably has no idea what happened to her other than she got married to a scribe. I heard he was a widower but nothing concerning children." She paused at that. "Sorry about them again, your father and stepmother. I hope they got out of it"

"Don't ponder over it too much. It happened. There's nothing we can do now."

That was what Anri had been telling himself through his entire journey to the city. He had no idea what actually happened to them but whether they survived the raid or not, there was little chance they would ever meet again. That part of his life was behind him now.

"Anyway you have to tell me about her! And you! What is it like living here? Where is your house? What was it like growing up in the city?"

He got a bit startled by the amount of his own questions. Anri was deprived information about the topic for so long, now that the answers were in his reach, he found it hard to contain himself. But any way he tough about it there was one question bothering him the most. "Why didn't they like each other? Stepmother and Margarete. What got between them? Did your mother do something?"

Jarill looked down after that and spoke with some reluctance. "It's not really about what she did but rather what she does. And as to growing up in the city I'm not the right person to be asking that. I was sent to a boarding school as soon as mother deemed it acceptable. She had claimed it to be to educate me but I know it was really to keep me from her business."

"Wow," Anri muttered blinking. "Just how well off are you?"

His imagination was now running wild. Not a word of what she had said reminded him of his own life. And if his "aunt" could afford such lavishes as professional education what would living with her be like? Or would she send him off to an academy as well? Would he want to go?

He had to know now.

But before Jarill could answer anything a woman called out to her as they passed her. A courtesan was walking down the alley, dressed in notably revealing dress, currently without any customer by her side.

"Hi Jarill! Enjoying the night?" she spoke with the enthusiasm of an old friend.

"Don't get any ideas Gilla. This is something more complicated. Is mother at the House?"

"She was when I last saw her. But she didn't look like eager to stay. Better go catch her!" she called. "And let me borrow that boy you're clinging to like he's a medal!" she added and winked at Anri, before she vanished again out of their sight.

For a moment he stood there dumbstruck.

Before Jarill could start explaining Anri let out a tirade: "So this is the business your mother is working in?! She's a courtesan?!" It all made sense now. Why his stepmother never talked about her. With viewpoints like hers, it was hard to imagine someone like this was related to her.

"No, you got it all twisted. And if you wish to stay with her you better make sure she NEVER hears you call her that!" Jarill spat out briefly, before calming down again.

"But that whore just..."

"Mind your manners, please? She's no whore! She's a normal, hard-working person. And my mom doesn't work in a brothel, she owns the place. And not just any one," Jarill smiled mischievously, "the greatest and most expansive one in the kingdom. The House of the Scarlet Rose!"

That made him stop. His super religious stepmom's sister not only worked in the night house. She owned one?

"And that's where we are heading?"

"Yep. Don't worry, not all of it is work space. There are living quarters for us and some managing staff and it has a separate entrance on the opposite side if you're ashamed of people seeing you in such place. But I assure you, no one is going to judge you. If anything they'll think you're rich."

"Or a worker."

"They would still think that in such a case."

"Just how expensive are you?" he spouted. "Wait, no! I mean the place! ...dammit..."

"Relax, I get it. And not that much to be honest, if you're not looking for anything special that is. You just have to pay a membership fee to enter. But why would someone go to us looking for something they can get anywhere else in the first place?"

"And what can't I get anywhere else?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she teased and sent a wave of red to his cheeks.

"They won't let you through the back without mother's approval though. We'll have to use the usual way in this time." Before Anri could argue against she exclaimed: "Here we are!"

It took him a moment to figure out where to look. What he then sighted in the nightly street was no house. It was a damn palace!

What Anri previously considered just another row of tightly fit buildings was in fact ONE! It stood no shorter than four floors and towered even above some of the more notable structures they had passed. And if his eyes weren't deceiving him, it went even higher further beyond the richly decorated facade.

There was light coming from the red tinted windows indicating that work hasn't stopped yet.

"Do you ever close?" he inquired when he finally lifted his jaw from the ground.

"No. That would lose us much profit. Care to come in? If you're done staring."

Torn out of his trance he quickly realized what is about to happen next and started sweating. He wasn't prepared for this!

"I... I just... I've never been to a place like this before."

"Hmm. A first timer. I guess that was to be expected, given your upbringing. I like that!"

Jarill snatched his sleeve and literally dragged him through the front door. Inside welcomed him a vast room with a pleasant looking girl behind a counter, sofa and armchairs he knew he could never afford. Several doorways led out of the room, pairs of burly guards, men and women, next to each. They didn't look quite human.

The girl chimed her greetings. "Welcome to The House of The Scarlet Rose, sir. Is this your first time here, or may I see your membership? Oh! Lady Jarill! Are you here together?"

"Hi Liv. Yes he's with me," she confirmed and leaned on the counter. "Is mother in here?"

Liv shrugged. "Not sure. I haven't heard from Mistress Margarita since opening. Should I present young man here with a ring?"

"Not yet. But we need to find Margarete so he'll have to enter without for now."

"Ok. You will need this then," she turned to Anri and handed him a small red ribbon. Jarill instructed him to tie it around his wrist.

"Enjoy your stay!" the girl shouted at them as Jarill led him to one of the doors, the guards nodding to her as they passed. What Anri saw on the other side left him quite breathless.

A room at the size of a palace hall filled to the brim with people. There were tables surrounding the edges of the area and a large open space with people dancing in the center. Dozens of scandalously clad or outright naked women were present, at the tables along with customers wearing expensive suits of clothing and jewelry in the middle, their bodies intertwined in wild and alluring positions. What looked like waitresses wearing only a strange red tunic either barely covering them or with their breasts exposed were carrying food and drinks to the tables.

But there was another detail capturing his attention amidst all the nakedness. They weren't human. Well, not all of them. There were elves, nymphs, dryads, amazons, various hybrids, even a few halflings and a whole bunch of other races he never heard of. A majority of waitresses were a tad smaller than an average human, with pointed ears similar to elves and orange or lavender skin. The hall was high enough to reach all the way to the roof and was lit by small spheres of lights hovering in the air. Long ribbons of scarlet silk dangled from the ceiling, very naked acrobats tangled in them performing arrays of exotic dances. Occasional winged woman like a harpy or something similar was sitting on a perch or joining with the dancers in the most strangely enticing performance he ever saw.

Jarill led him to the other end of the room and to a private booth with table and benches, separated from the rest of the room by a red curtain. He settled down next to the round table, white tablecloth reaching all the way down to the ground, as Jarill closed the curtains. He noticed the booth was lit by the same little light as the rest of the room, dancing on the table. Upon closer look he saw it wasn't a sphere at all but rather a tiny fairy, literally dancing next to a miniature pole in the middle of the table. She couldn't be taller than fifteen centimeters and was wearing only a few pieces of golden chains reminiscent of an expensive bracelets. Next to her feet were several odd slots in the table where the tablecloth was missing. Anri stared at her with his jaw dropped, her miniature features not lacking behind any other full sized woman he saw here. She noticed and winked at him.

"Enjoying yourself?" Jarill smirked at him from the opposite side of the table, her arms crossed before handing him a small book. Looking down Anri saw it was a menu. None of the places he was before had something like this, just a wooden sign or a single list pinned on the wall. Then again, he never was in a brothel before.

A waitress approached them through the curtain. "Welcome. Do you have any requests?" She smiled on him the most friendly yet somehow sexy smile he ever saw.

Shuffling through the drink pages he picked one from a section marked "House specials".

"Nectar?" he asked baffled, speaking mostly to Jarill, but the waitress chimed: "Excelent. A glass or from a tap?"

"Glass," Jarill interrupted, "we're talking."

"Sure lady Jarill," she answered and retreated back out of sight.

"So, if you have any questions, now is a good time to ask. I need to go find my mother which will most likely take a while, so I need to leave you here and trust you won't forget how to breathe again and die on me in the meantime."

"There's SO many questions! How did your mother get something like this? How big is it here? Or how can something like this even EXIST?! Do you actually LIVE here?" He stopped to breathe, and murmured more to himself, "How am I in here?"

"From my late father, may he rest in peace," Jarill answered. "My mom inherited this place after he passed. I don't remember him much, he died when I was young. His family owned this place for generations. And as for how does it exist? Well, generations of hard work and investments. And I mentioned before that this whole place isn't a brothel. I live on the opposite side of the building, when I'm not stuck in the university dorms that is."

A moment later she added: "I was kinda hoping you would order something more alcoholic. You look pale. You need to relax a bit."

While he was contemplating that suggestion, the waitress returned with a full glass of sweet looking, honey colored liquid. "Here you go sir. Any other requests?"

"Yes actually. He drinks on the house tonight," Jarill said and handed the waitress a small token.

"Sure lady Jarill. Anything else sir?"

Anri lifted the glass to his lips and took a careful sip. It was indeed sweet and reminded him of honey a bit. But it was somehow different. Like there was some other flavor he couldn't describe. He took a big chug of the sweet liquid and turned back to the alcohol section. Some of those drinks were truly expensive, but if the price wasn't an issue...

"Rose ambrosia then."

The waitress, again, retreated with a smile.

Jarill lifted an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked.

"For someone who's been tenser than a violin string just from being here, you're quite the expensive drinker."

"I'm not gonna pass an opportunity like this," he answered confidently, thinking internally if he didn't overstep.

"Well, no matter, as long as you enjoy yourself. Just don't order more than you can drink. I didn't give you that privilege to waste. Don't get lost while I'm gone.

"Wait! Are you seriously going to leave me here? How long will I be waiting?"

"Oh relax! I left you plenty of freedom to entertain yourself. And I'm not leaving you here alone," she said and dropped a chunky golden coin in one of the slots in the table, before placing another next to the fairy's feet. She appreciated the tip with a pirouette and blew her a kiss.

"You seriously need to relax a bit." She winked at him and was gone.

Great! He was now without a guide and a clue about anything in this place. What was that coin even for?

Before he had any time to contemplate that, he almost jumped out of his seat as something touched his leg.

"What... what was that?" he shouted before he realized Jarill left already, so he turned to the fairy. She stuck one finger in her mouth and sucked on it as she continued twirling around the pole while flicking her wings, never touching the table. Unbound by gravity, she displayed her body with utmost expertise, dancing her way through air seductively, holding on to the pole like a lifeline.

Something touched him again under the table, this time dangerously close to his crotch. He lifted the tablecloth from his thighs, gasping at what he saw down there. Under the table was a human!

Well, not human. Definitely not human! But a woman she was. Judging by her pointed ears and small stature his guess was a gnome. Or a goblin. He couldn't determine her skin color in the shadow of the table. He could tell, however, that she was beautiful. What else to expect here anyway. She was around half his size, but had full hips and amazing boobs! She was also very naked, only a bejeweled necklace dragged his attention to the middle of her chest. She was a little disproportioned compared to a human. Her head was too big for her shoulders and her ass for her waist. Her breasts were normal compared to her size but looked like a shrunk human tits, just big enough to fit in his palm. She looked at him with big eyes, completely capturing his soul.

"What are you doing?" he managed to mutter as she started working the buttons of his pants. The fairy on the table (or rather above the table) brought her hand to her mouth in a jerking motion and bulged her cheek with her tongue, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

"Should I stop?" the gnome asked in low voice.

He wanted to answer but his words got stuck in his throat. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. Just something!

"Tell me when you want me to stop," she whispered and stuck a hand down his pants. Anri reached for the nectar cup and downed the rest of the drink. Gods, he wished it was alcohol!

He heard footsteps approaching the curtain and quickly pulled the tablecloth over his thighs again. Just then he felt his penis break free of his underpants and a soft hand began stroking it. It was already hard as a rock.

A waitress came in the booth, carrying a tall, wide glass and set it in front of him, then excused herself again. It was filled with a pinkish clear liquid with miniature sparkles of air appearing out of nowhere and flowing to the surface. He never saw anything like it. But what completely stole the show was a small fairy chilling in the glass, her hands resting on the edges. She was completely and utterly naked, her full chest on display. She flickered her beautiful eyes at him and waved while blushing. She was a little smaller then her dancing counterpart, around ten centimeters, but didn't appear younger by any means. He guess that fairies just varied in sizes.

Anri hesitated to touch the glass when he felt a pair of soft lips wrap around his cock. He closed his eyes and fell back into his seat, lost in the sensation of a warm mouth engulfing his naked member. The gnome's tongue worked around his shaft and under his tip, massaging the most sensitive places. She seemed to detect his pleasure and slowed down not wanting to rush things, instead working for a proper buildup.

He opened his eyes to see the fairy in his drink teasing him and beckoning with a finger. Anri took the glass and carefully examined the contents, He smelled roses and alcohol and something not quite recognizable wandering if it was the drink or the fairy. He took a small sip of the liquid and as he did, the fairy leaned to him and kissed him on the nose.