Dame.’ Misu tipped her glass to the performer. ‘She’s half settler as you can see from the skin. Now if you’re one of those types who has plenty of mill folk she would be an ideal take. I don’t know how she does it, but the way she sings is delightful, really. Seems to placate any of the more troublesome people though riling the blood in the romantics if you get my meaning. Why, just last week she had no less than three propositions of marriage. Not that these were seriously considered, mind. The poor thing is wed to her work.’
‘Such a shame.’
‘Agreed. What she needs is a nice place to call home. The Lavender Club really isn’t the place for her gifts. If you can provide that, then she’s a fine addition.’
‘Who is that one?’ he continued, gesturing one last time.
Misu’s eyes flickered, watching the sauntering figure clad in black lace and long tassels. The woman rolled her body before hanging her head back in profile. Unlike the others, this one caused a momentary hesitation. Misu knew full well who this was and every facet about her.
‘That is Corinne. She’s what we call a desert flower. A rarity. One of a kind. Corinne joined us hearing that she could make her fortune in Windberg with dance. Now, looking closely, you can see here that all these frisky movements are quick. There’s no thinking there. That’s ’cause it’s in her blood. That’s not learned; all you’re seeing is one hundred per cent natural talent. If you’ve got room for someone who can do that, she’ll bring in coin faster than she can drum the boards.’
Corinne suddenly locked eyes with Misu, causing the pair to exchange the briefest of smiles. More than that, she was the only damn one Misu could call a friend in this entire joint. Drinks were shared between, frank and honest conversation about dreams or the lack thereof. Wilheim claimed all things of a person and their fancies were no different. Corinne had a very peculiar skill, having learnt to throw her voice from a young age, useless on all accounts but still considerably charming. Surrounded by persistent malice as they were at Wilheim’s, good company was a scarcity. If it wasn’t for Corinne’s, there was no telling what desperate acts Misu might have resorted to.
‘You have my personal assurance that Corinne will make you your money back five fold. If I’m discovered to be a liar, well, may I fall down one day and break my neck.’
‘Exquisite.’ He grunted, adjusting his trouser belt.
‘Ain’t she just?’
Without warning, the individual turned in his seat and diverted all of his attention to the woman beside him. His mind had obviously roved elsewhere, to places that made her uncomfortable.
‘And you? How much are you?’
‘That’s a silly thing to ask,’ she scoffed, amused.
‘Why?’
Misu shuffled herself on the seat, quite averse to this question. It only came up a handful of times but it still charmed a disturbing chill down the back. The answer was always delivered to prevent misinterpretation. There was no playing hard to get. There was simply the truth.
‘Because I cannot be brought.’ Misu spoke flatly, watching Corinne deeply bow and make her way behind the curtain. ‘Us here, this side of the stage, we’re Wilheim’s own. We are not to be handled or bartered. That is not our task. Our designs are grander. It’s best that notion be forgotten, sir. For the best. We are his workers, his busy bees who buzz around and bring the honey to the hungry.’
‘And if someone breaks that rule?’ he asked, placing an unwelcome hand on her thigh. It was removed, by the wrist, and dropped back into the man’s lap. She glanced behind to see if Wilheim had taken notice of this development.
Wilheim sat contentedly on his throne, puffing away quite happily on a stogie. Those at his side waited for his commands, showing no emotion in response to the torrid display on stage, desensitized to flesh and fancy. Upon noticing Misu’s turn of the head, Wilheim paid the slightest of nods in acknowledgement, assuring her of the fact that he was always watching. Even if he wasn’t, there were plenty who would talk to gain scraps of favour. The club was a cage. Only the lucky ones left and the conditions under which they did so were far from dignified.
‘Then Mister Fort ensures you will be stung. And you do not wish to be stung sir; I promise you that.’
Before the last of her drink found its way to the rest, Misu examined its glass, delicately held in view by thumb and fingers. In its visage her face turned and warped with the contours, dipping down every recess and rising back to the surface when the angle and light saw fit.
The likeness laughed.
‘Not on your life,’ she added.
* * *
A chorus of sobs rattled out from around her, though Franco remained expressionless. It was quite the story, but it excused nothing.
‘See?’ Misu whined. ‘I told you that you wouldn’t understand.’
‘I don’t,’ Franco growled. ‘I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you could endanger everyone here on the Den because of your history.’
‘If I told you that very day when you took me on, that I had the spectre of this man hanging over me, can you truly say that you would have been so eager to usher me on board? You were practically salivating over my shoes!’
Franco went to speak, but instead Misu raised her hand.
‘Let me finish that for you; don’t bother wriggling your way out of it. No, you wouldn’t. You would have brushed me aside for a prettier face, one lacking such traumatic baggage and complications. It would have spared you all this, right? Lucky, lucky you.’
Franco had given her much of the floor to explain herself but heard nothing of the sort – just a tale of bad dealings and horrid individuals. There were no excuses for this, though a part of him wished that one could be tendered, making this affair entirely justifiable. What hurt the most was her attitude regarding his reaction.
‘You could have explained the situation to us, to me.’ Thunder rolled off his tongue before calming. ‘I have to put up with you acting aloof for days, sneaking off to congregate with cronies, all under my nose! I was right to have Jacques shadow you. You didn’t come to me when you needed help. Me. Of all the people out there. I dare say we could have worked something out.’
‘Because you’re such a damn beacon of charity to those who wrong you,’ came the defiant roar.
‘I trusted you dammit!’ Franco retaliated, just as sharp, causing the others to step back.
‘Oh and who could have ever trusted me but a fool?!’
* * *
Misu stared him down, noticing the shock that decorated the faces of the others. Jacques was fluent in bad moves but even he had to turn away from this one. Her tone retreated to something more manageable but the damage was already done. Some semblance of guilt pierced her chest, but sheer stubbornness refused to reveal as much. Misu’s eyes finally flickered.
‘I … look, besides …’ she fidgeted ‘… it wouldn’t have been possible to bargain.’
‘You’re
