people often yearn for what they loathe. It makes for good business opportunities for the beloathed, but you have to watch your back- or have other unwelcome watch it for you. -- Weirdlet
They called her Passion, though her name for herself was Reprieve. A statuesque beauty, even though she was a Hellkin. Poems had been written about her hair. Odes dedicated to her singing voice. People who would rebuke and revile Hellkin like her leaped to grovel in mud lest she mar her shiny hooves. Of course, she was a Courtesan.
"There are two differences between a Courtesan and a Whore," she lectured her prentices. "One is education. A Courtesan is knowledgeable and skilled, expected to engage in conversation and entertain in wider arenas than the bedchamber. Philosophy, dance, politics, and how to play at least one instrument is to a Courtesans' advantage. The second difference is knowing what a patron wants before they express it fully," here, her luminous eyes flashed with mischief, "and making them beg for it."
Eros stopped stretching in his practice contortions to sit properly for a change. "A Prostitute can do all those things, too."
"They can," agreed Reprieve. "They don't learn to read people beyond the ability to tell trouble before it starts. A Whore asks what their patron desires and supplies it for money. A Concubine hints that its possible, but keeps it out of immediate reach. A Whore pleases their patron. A Concubine makes their patron desire to please them."
"Your patrons are busy arguing about laws to kick us out," complained Salacia. "They are going to have menace mobs giving us trouble the instant we set foot out of the Demon District."
"We'll just have to trouble them back," breezed Reprieve. "Another little skill you pick up, my darlings, is knowing who -and what- to curry favours with."
Eros wasn't so sure. He was the exact kind of person a professional menace would go after. Small. Slight. Easy to bruise and mangle. And little risk of Eros fighting back since he was small and slight. He usually used charm and silvery compliments to escape hostility. That would not work on hired menaces.
Nevertheless, he still had to get herbs and other things from places outside of the Hellkin ghetto.
The good news, such as it was, was that Eros was fairly good at acting. He could walk in confidence, but not too much confidence. At a carefully-measured pace, so as not to arouse the attention of the Watch.
It did not take long for big, burly fighter types to 'co-incidentally' start walking his way. Cracking their knuckles, flexing their muscles, and not-so-covertly making bets about how long Eros would last.
If they were in Eros' parlour, the supremacy would go the other way.
"You're walking down the wrong street, prettyboy," rumbled one, just casually donning a set of vicious and illegal knuckledusters.
Eros' first instinct was to look alluring, but these people could not be lured. Nevertheless, a glance at the leader's armour sparked a moment of speculation. Eros looked up, and up to the aggressive beef's eyes. She must have been part Giant, or Giantkindred. "As far as I know, Beautiful, it's still legal to walk out of the Demon District on business."
The compliment failed to make an impact. "You gotta learn to treat normal folk with respect, teuf." And whenever someone used that word, someone was going to pay a pound of flesh for it. Or worse.
Eros felt more than saw a couple more two-legged mountains worth of people box him in.
Then, miracle of miracles, some even bigger mountains loomed over the menace gang. But these walking mountains had horns.
"Define normal," rumbled one.
"Are you people making trouble for our friend?" growled the other.
There was a suggestion that the first mountain range was outmatched and outnumbered, so the menace gang suddenly became very polite indeed. They soon found better places to be, as did most of the Hellkin mountains.
One remained. A towering behemoth of a devilborn whose eyes and talons gave off trails of smoke. "Miss Reprieve said I should look after you when you go out," he said. "I'm Bastion."
"Eros," said Eros, who had to stand on tip-toes to meet Bastion's descending brow with his. "If you don't mind me asking... may I climb your parapets someday?"
"Business before pleasure, Mr. Eros," said Bastion. "I'm to see you safe on your errands and back to the Demon District. Then we can talk." He gestured Eros back to his route with a courteous bow. "Or something within ninety degrees of talking."
Eros found it difficult to wipe the grin off his face. "I can't recall seeing you around the neighbourhood," he said. "Or your fellows."
"Yeah we blend into the scenery real good," Bastion had a similar smile. "It's a neat trick."
They had such an interesting conversation, Eros almost forgot to work his errands. Which made him wonder if Bastion and his friends weren't also students of Reprieve.
[Photo by Andras Kovacs on Unsplash]
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