Romulus nodded slowly. That was such a safe answer, but he wasn't going to press her about it.
He finished clothing himself and plopped down on the couch, facing her across the room.
"Well, if I'm going to rule one day, I ought to know my subjects. Travel the kingdom, meet the people, see the towns, maybe change some minds." He smiled, brightening his corner of the room. "Some of the people who hated me last week think I'm not so bad now, and that's a change I'm happy with."
Elia tilted her head just slightly to the side as she watched him. "Perhaps. Until the next unlucky soul is burned for witchcraft or your father passes another unreasonable law." She made eye contact with him. "These people are never going to truly love you. Maybe in a few generation, Venians will grow to love their new monarch. But as long as we remember, we will always hold a grudge."
It was no secret with her coloring that she was clearly Venian, from her dark hair to her tan skin. Most Venians had her coloring. "You're going to have be smart if you want to keep the throne. Your people may hold all the titles, but my people are the masses. You're going to have to please them somehow to dim their rage."
Romulus snickered. "Strong words from a whore. I'll keep that in mind if I ever decide to start taking opinions from the dregs of society."
He stood and walked back into the bathroom, cleaning up the used towels and soap, as he did every day at some point. "What else do you do for fun, besides reading and attempting moral lectures from a prostitutes bed?"
He knew full well that people could be paid and bought off easily enough. This girl had some strong bitterness, but her vitriol was not shared by the people at large, and Romulus knew better than to let an angry woman get under his skin. Such things had killed men greater than himself.
Elia only gave him a small smile. "You'd be wise to listen to me, prince. You'd be surprised what lonely men confess to me, the secrets I hold could topple this kingdom. Luck for you, I have no interest in politics."
She watched him curiously as he cleaned up after himself. Normally, patrons left a mess for the residents to clean up. It was unusual for someone to pick up after themselves, especially one of royal blood. She wasn't insulted by his words. What he spoke was true. "There isn't much for me to do outside these walls. There's nowhere to go while a debt is still owed. I wander through the market at times, but I'm normally here, wasting away my talents."
This assertion of her own power drew a full laugh from him. He managed to keep it small. "I'll have to pull on my boots so I can shake in fear in them, fear of your kingdom toppling power." He grinned at her. "I'm sure you've got plenty of secrets, like all the times Bandy the bartender has come through here looking for some young blood to finish what his wife can't, but if you're trying to prove your worth, Elia, don't bother."
He stepped back out of the bathroom, leaving it neat, and set the few used things in a pile by the door.
"Unless there's more to you than you're willing to tell. Not everyone who ends up in a whorehouse winds up there by accident." He looked her in the eyes this time, his own friendly baby blues glinting in the firelight.
There it was. That spark of something other than big, stupid and strong. He knew full well he wasn't talking to some peasant, and if she was smart, she'd know he knew.
Her eyes went to the neat bathroom before to the prince's. She shrugged her shoulders, indifferent. When men started listening to women, perhaps they would start learning. If he wouldn't listen, she wouldn't tell. "I don't say anything for free, love. The first one was a freebe. If you want a secret out of me, first you will have to pay with a secret of your own."
She straightened her back, trying to appear bigger, not that it mattered against his size. That spark in his eyes told her he knew something, something about her. She should have been more careful around him, should have hid her disdain better. She did have a problem controlling her smart tongue at times.
He watched her for a moment, noting the moment it clicked. He held her gaze for just a second after that, before his smile changed, more loose, more relaxed. "I didn't say I wanted your secrets. I have no need to know what you think you know, lovely lady."
He stepped around the couch, arranging his dirty clothes in a neat pile by the fire, before turning to look at her.
"Now, after all that, do you want to sleep with me, or shall we continue our conversation on less charged topics, if you can manage such a thing?"
The question was genuine. He highly doubted she wanted to screw, as much hatred as she'd had in her voice, and he wasn't going to push the issue, certainly. If that was the case, he wanted to at least give her this, to let her be at ease that she was in no physical danger of him just taking what she thought he wanted.
Elia picked at her nails, as if pretending to contemplate her decision. She knew how he treated the others. She heard from Lily and Calvin personally how they were treated and taken care of. She was happy they had been taken care of and weren't forced into acts they hadn't wanted to participate in. It didn't make the prince a good person for doing the bare minimum, but he was better than some patrons that came in especially for the little ones. Perhaps one day she would get revenge on the Madame for taking her childhood away along with all the others. In another life, she supposed.
"And what would you like to talk about, My Prince?" She was curious to see where he would take the conversation. She had no interest in being with him physically. Even if she had forsaken her family name, this was one line she would not cross.
(Or would she? duhn duhn duhn)
Romulus smiled and raised his hands, as if to say Alright, have it your way. He'd known it was a foregone conclusion, but she'd at least had the temerity to pretend to think about it.
"We can talk about anything you're willing to talk about, lovely lady. I fear any topic I would broach, you would shoot down with that sizzling venom of yours." He grinned. "Let's start small. Favorite food? Or perhaps what you've been reading lately? I've not noticed, but Lear says the various books have been quite riveting."
He sat back down on the couch, reclining back. "Or, perhaps, there's something you'd like to know about me, or the Haradrim? I can't imagine what, given that you know all the secrets the world has to know, but maybe there's some snippet I can offer you?"
Elia let out a small laugh but didn't deny him. She would likely shoot down the more sensitive topic. She didn't enjoy talking about herself so much, as she preferred listening. "I prefer a nice, roasted duck, while garlic seasoned vegetable, served with goat cheese on bread." She hadn't had a meal such as that since her palace life. She was occasionally able to buy her own goat cheese and bread, but it was never the same. "I've got a large amount of history books but lately I've been enjoying some romance books. It's nice to escape into the pages and get away from all of this. I know I have no luxury to experience it in my life, so I might as well devour it in my books."
She studied him for a moment before speaking. "Do you remember the first person you killed?"
He nodded slowly. "That sounds delicious. I can only assume the food Madame normally feeds you all here is nowhere near as rich as she's led us to believe?" That had been obvious, but he couldn't get a read on how well she treated her workers when they weren't under royal scrutiny, and the various coquettes had been nervous to tell him. They had all praised her for her caring and provision, but they likely feared he'd report back to her, or something similar.
Elia would be the only one who would tell him the truth, if she chose to answer.
"Those history books can be a huge help in your learning process. Good to know you're a cultured lady and not just pretty." He softened for a moment at the mention of her lack of real romance. "Let those books be your refuge, real love is never the same as the authors make it sound. You're not missing much."
Elia shrugged her shoulders. "She treats us better than most but she still abuses her power. I'm lucky enough in my position now that I primarily get left alone. Most of the others can't say the same. And while she may be lenient, her punishments are horrendous." She had the scars on her back to prove it. They had faded with time and treatment but would never truly go away. The Madame has a preference for whips as punishments.
"I'm well versed in our history. I enjoy it. And I've found I've started running out of reading material for the past." She brought one leg up on the bed, crossing it under her. The slit in her gown exposed her thigh near her pelvic bone. She made no move to cover up. She wasn't shy about her body. She couldn't be with her profession. "Perhaps you will find a lovely noble girl who proves you wrong, prince, don't give up just yet."
Romulus nodded seriously for a moment, clearly listening carefully to her description of the Madame's actions. "Noted. Thank you for your honesty, most of the rest of them told me she was like a loving mother to them, which is, of course, quite a lot to try to sell a man who has just bought you from her." He chuckled.
Her encouragement made him smile, but more in a sad way. "Don't give up, huh? Interesting choice of words from a woman who told me not 10 minutes ago that no one would ever truly love me." He watched her, not in a lecherous way, just like a curious man, before changing the subject.
"So you're in need of more reading material is what I'm hearing. Shall I have Lear send you more romance? He's got good taste in books, I've found." He lifted his arms, setting them behind his head, which left him reclined but flexed, an impressive look on a man with his build. "What do you think of my Lieutenant, Elia?"
"If you've come to hear the truth, a brothel is not for you. Us prostitutes will say just about anything to get paid." Elia had said many sweet lies in her time, promising love and reassurance, when she really couldn't care less.
"You never know, you might woe the right woman and decide to marry her. Or not. It matters not to me. Just don't deny yourself should the opportunity arise." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and out of her face. "I enjoy his company. It's refreshing from my usual sort. I trust his judgment when it comes to books. If he ever finds one he wants to share, send him my way, prince."
Romulus laughed, a more friendly sound now that sarcasm wasn't mixed with it. "Oh, believe me, I know to believe nothing of what I hear and only half of what I see." He smiled. "But you find out many more things than you bargained for when you spend a week at a brothel." He made eye contact again for a second, that same glint returning. It only faded when he looked away.
"That's very generous of you not to wish me hell in my love life." He chuckled.
"Lear is definitely the type to be enjoyed. He'll be glad to know he was refreshing, and I can assure you he'll send books." Lear had already mentioned options.
"So we've covered favorite food. Favorite color? Perhaps a favorite type of music or instrument, since you're an accomplished musician as well?"
"Purple. And I can really only play the piano. I never had any interest in anything else." Elia returned his smile. Perhaps he wasn't the worst company she has had. She wouldn't go out of her way to be with him but they seemed to be getting along well enough. She only wished she had a glass of wine, the only delicacy she had these days. Just a glass here and there to sip and enjoy. She never wanted to dull her senses. That could lead to problematic situations.
"We've been talking a lot about me. I want to hear about you." She wasn't all that comfortable speaking about herself, even the small things.
"Do you remember the first time you killed a man?" A bit blunt, but she was curious.
Romulus nodded slowly. "You would look good in purple. And the piano is a valuable instrument. I've never known a person who played it who wasn't a snotty noble…till you." That glint again, but only briefly.
He shifted, leaning forward. "What a question. Yes, I remember. In fact, our entire Court remembers." He smiled, but there was steel in it this time. "A duke had been hitting on my mother, attempting to woo her right out from under my father. He came and accosted her at court one day with false accusations. I was 9 and had just gone through a growth spurt. I was already as tall as he was, the short bastard, and he made me so angry, I lost my temper and that was that." He glanced at his feet. "It tends to leave a mark on a Court when the 9 year old prince wins a contest of strength with a full grown man by strangling the jackass with his bare hands for accusing his mother of adultery."
"No, just a snotty whore." Elia said amused. She didn't like the look in his eyes. It said he knew more than he should. If she was smart she would leave, but she didn't.
"Yes, I can see that. I doubt there is much death at court. Besides public executions that is." She got up from her seat. She walked over to the table holding a bottle of wine and two wine glasses. She poured them each a glass. She walked over to the prince, handed him a glass, and sat down next to him. "What's it like? To kill someone?"
She was too curious for her own good but she wanted to know. Not that she had any plans to kill anyone herself. Just curious on his thoughts and feelings. There was nothing else for her to do at the moment, might as well learn some things about him.
He smiled and accepted the wine, but the Prince couldn't contain his laughter at her question.
"I'm sorry, but you must see the irony here. You hand a man you've openly proclaimed to be your hated enemy a glass of wine you poured, and then immediately ask him what it's like to kill someone." He grinned, not unkindly, just legitimately amused at the situation. "I'd have to be an idiot to drink this now."
He proceeded to down the entire glass, before setting it on the coffee table by the couch.
Up close, everything about him was more exaggerated, almost too much. He smelled like leather and the odd tang of a strange metal, that could only be the particular alloy of his armor. It was a strongly masculine smell, and the soap he'd been using didn't help, adding cedar to the misx of smells. His movements were oddly graceful, for a man his size, but everything he did had a solidity to it, like he really was built of rock.
He also felt so much taller up close.
He had over a foot on her, but nothing accented that like sitting next to the man and having him need to look down to make eye contact.
The Prince's grin faded a bit. "To answer your question, it depends on who I'm killing. Specifics?"
Elia smiled and looked down at her glass. "I may not like you, Prince, but I have no interest in violence. Unless it's consensual, of course." She winked at him, playful, but it faded from her eyes. "Getting tortured to death sounds rather dull. You won't lose your life from me."
She took a small sip of her wine. She could smell him, sitting this close. She refused to admit that it was intoxicating. If she could infuse his scent into a blanket and sleep with it every night, she likely would. Her own smell was the opposite of his, feminine, seductive. She smelled of jasmine, freshly plucked. The scent came from her oil she used to leave her skin smooth and shining. The scent was subtle, not overwhelming, but presently there. Her body was opposite his as well. She was soft and had a woman's body. She'd been told more than once she had birthing hips and breasts to match. Every moment she made had a purpose. She was full of grace and sensuality.
Elia tapped her nails on the glass. She had to tilt her head back up to look at him. "Let's say a man on the battlefield, following the orders of his lord or king, likely has a family at home waiting for him to come back."
He believed her, clearly. The wine was already gone. And she was clearly more sensible than to go such an obvious route.
She smelled lovely, which was an interesting change from some of the other coquettes. They usually smelled like they'd put on some perfume, then decided it wasn't enough, and put on 3 others as well. Elia, on the other hand, was more subtle, in this and several other ways, and Romulus could appreciate that.
The Prince nodded as she specified, his face moving from the smile to a more businesslike expression. "Following orders? I try to incapacitate without killing. Disarm, knock out, perhaps non-lethally wound. If I do have to kill, it feels like killing an animal for food. You briefly feel sympathy, maybe even empathy for the person, but ultimately, their loss of life allows you and yours to live, and you're both there to do the same job. There's a balance to it." He wasn't cruel about it, just matter of fact, clearly used to the idea that war was kill or be killed.
Elia hummed, thinking it over. "Have you ever felt regret or guilt over a death?" She was too curious indeed but when would she ever have a conversation like this again? The soldiers she had been with were always more interested in a rut than talking to her. And some of her most loyal patrons wanted to talk about the problems in their lives. Never something as gruesome as this.
She rested her arm on the armrest, letting her body relax on the couch. She had no worries that the prince beside her would harm her, she might as well get comfortable. It wasn't often she got to just be. She might as well let her body relax while she could.
"And what of those deaths you contributed too but weren't the killing blow? Such as finding witches, as you lot call them."
Romulus nodded slowly. "There have been accidental deaths. A result of being too big and too strong and too fast." He had killed a servant once, simply by coming around the corner at a run. He'd been late for a meeting of some sort, and the poor girl had been walking the other direction. He had barreled into her, and the poor dear died quickly of a broken neck. He wasn't fond of that story though.
"I backhanded an unruly Wulf once, trying to tame it. Forgot I had my gauntlets on and crushed its skull like an egg, which was no good at all."
He thought for a moment, before answering the last question. "I feel that everyone contributes to someone else's death at some point in their life, whether by eating food that could save someone else from starvation, or hoarding warmth that could save others from freezing. Yet, we don't blame people for trying to live, even if it costs others." He glanced at her. "How many wives have committed suicide in this town because their husbands preferred you?" Rom knew it had happened at least twice, because one of the other girls had told him in a jealous rant the night before.
"We can only be reasonably responsible for those we put down ourselves. I have too many lives I've ended directly to worry about the indirect ones. They do have my sympathy."
Elia listened to him, not inclined to answer him. There had been more than a few incidents with the wives of her patrons. She couldn't control their actions. It wasn't her doing that made husbands want to cheat on their wives. She had no contribution in that. And no matter what she preferred, she wasn't allowed to deny any patron. She had to take who came for her, unless there were extreme situations. Patrons could get banned. It took a lot for it to happen but it was possible.
"I suppose you are right. No use wasting energy on something you can't change or control. I learned that a long time ago." Elia pulled her legs up on the couch, her toes just brushing against his thigh. It hadn't been her purpose but he took up so much room it was hard to move at all without touching him.
"Let's talk about something more cheerful. It's starting to get depressing now."
