Chapter-51 The Quiet Conversation

The Velvet Veil never truly quieted.

Even when the music softened to a sultry hum and the crowd thinned, the pulse of life lingered... laughter behind silk curtains, hushed whispers along the balconies, the distant clinking of glasses.

Frederique remained where she had been for the last hour, standing near the balcony's edge, arms folded tightly across her chest.

She had calmed since the earlier encounters, but the tension remained, a dull ache coiled beneath her ribs.

Frideria wasn't speaking, not in words.

But she was aware.

A presence pressing against her mind, reminding her that she had felt the pulse of human flesh beneath her grip.

' I didn't lose control.'

' I didn't...'

A soft voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Mind some company?"

Frederique blinked, turning toward the source.

The woman standing a few feet away wasn't like the other courtesans who had approached. She wasn't trying to be seductive. She wasn't close enough to touch.

She stood just outside Frederique's personal space, her posture calm but open.

Dark hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and her gown... while elegant... lacked the overdone embellishments of most of the others working tonight. Midnight blue satin, simple and clean. Her features were soft, pretty in a quiet way, but the faint smudge of fatigue around her eyes told a different story.

"I'm not looking for..." Frederique began, but the woman shook her head gently.

"I'm not here to sell you anything, sweetheart. Just thought you looked lonely."

Frederique hesitated.

She was lonely.

But her guard remained high. She gave a cautious nod, allowing the woman to step a bit closer.

"I'm Frederique."

The woman offered a small smile.

"I'm Amelia. It's... good to meet you."

The silence lingered for a moment. Amelia seemed content to let it. She didn't press.

Frederique shifted her weight, studying her more closely.

"You're... a courtesan here?"

Amelia nodded but without the usual showy pride some of the other women displayed.

"Yes. Been here three years now." She glanced down at her dress, brushing some invisible wrinkle from the fabric.

"Not as long as some, longer than others. The Velvet Veil... it keeps you, if you're valuable enough."

Her words were measured but not bitter.

Frederique tilted her head.

"And you're... happy here?"

Amelia's lips pressed together, a softer smile this time.

"Happy's complicated, isn't it? I'm... safe. Safer than I was before Solas took me in."

' Solas. '

The name made Frederique's spine stiffen slightly. The man Lira and Selora answered to. The man who owned this place, though she hadn't yet met him face-to-face.

She wanted to ask more but kept silent.

Amelia continued on her own.

"I was in the slums. Not much choice back then. A lot of us didn't make it out."

Her hand brushed her wrist, a faint scar visible there, but she covered it quickly.

"Solas saved me, in his own way. Gave me work. Shelter. Food."

Frederique hesitated.

"But you're still... here. If he saved you, why keep working?"

Amelia gave a soft laugh.

"Because it's not a fairy tale, sweetheart. Saving someone doesn't erase the scars."

She lifted her gaze, meeting Frederique's eyes directly now.

"And Solas... he only truly saves the ones who bear his children."

There was no malice in her voice.

Just truth.

Frederique blinked, absorbing that.

"But he..."

"Yes." Amelia cut her off gently.

"He sleeps with us all. It's... part of the arrangement. The Veil isn't just a business. It's his court, his legacy."

She shrugged.

"I haven't borne his child, so I'm not a wife. Not yet."

The words were delivered so matter-of-factly it made Frederique's stomach twist.

This world is so different...

"So you wait? For that to happen?"

Amelia tilted her head.

"Would it be so bad? To be protected forever? To never wonder where your next meal comes from? The Velvet Veil is a cage... but it's lined with silk."

Frederique didn't answer immediately.

She understood cages.

The hunger.

The whispers.

The way her body didn't feel like her own anymore.

But this was different.

"Do you ever... want out?" Frederique asked quietly.

Amelia considered the question carefully.

"Sometimes. But out there?"

She gestured toward the curtained windows.

"The world's worse. Men pay to touch me here... but they can't take anything. Solas makes sure of that. Out there?"

She trailed off, shaking her head.

Silence stretched again, more comfortable this time.

Amelia watched Frederique closely now, her gaze sharper.

"You're not like the others who work for him. What are you, sweetheart? A new dancer? A bodyguard?"

Frederique flinched.

Careful.

"No, I'm... just here to learn. A favor for someone."

Amelia raised an eyebrow but didn't pry further.

"Well, you're lucky, then. To have options."

Frederique felt like she should say something. Anything. But the words wouldn't come.

A sound interrupted them.

The soft chime of a small bell from across the room.

Amelia turned her head, shoulders squaring subtly.

"That's my call," she said, voice shifting... more professional, a practiced elegance in her stance.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a... guest to attend to."

Frederique nodded, though something in her chest twisted uncomfortably as Amelia turned to leave.

The hunger stirred again, faintly.

Not for food.

For understanding.

For power.

And just beyond that... something sharper.

Pity.

Amelia disappeared behind a velvet curtain, leaving Frederique alone with the music, the whispers, and the ache of too many questions left unanswered.