The Price of Freedom

The library had become Catherine's externalized mind, and the map of the city spread across the large table was its open skull.

She had the names, the places, the secrets.

But this information was useless without eyes to see and hands to act in the physical world.

Her psychic vision, her master asset, had become a double-edged sword, too dangerous to use indiscriminately.

Paranoia, though controlled, remained a prudent advisor.

She had to resort to older, more human methods.

And for that, she needed gold, and above all, the freedom to use it.

She was still a prisoner, no matter how luxurious her cage. Valerius, in his possessive adoration, kept her like his most precious treasure, hidden from sight and from the world. She had to break this cage, not by force, but by cunning.

She had to manipulate him into opening the door for her himself.

She prepared her performance with the care of a playwright.

That evening, when he joined her, she did not greet him with the ravenous passion of the night before, but with a pensive frustration, a contained energy.

She stood before the large map, her finger resting on the docks district.

"I have seen things, Magistrate," she said, her voice low.

"Fragments. Possible futures. But my visions are cloudy, as if I am looking at the city through warped glass. The confinement in this manor, as comfortable as it is, cuts me off from the city's flow. I cannot feel its pulse, its fears, its hopes. I am an Oracle without an oracle."

Valerius frowned, immediately concerned.

"What do you mean? Are your powers weakening?"

"No," she corrected him.

"They are like a musical instrument falling out of tune. To serve you, to anticipate the threats from our enemies, I must re-harmonize myself with the heart of this city. I must walk its streets, feel its breath, hear its whispers. Not as Catherine. As your Oracle, an invisible observer."

His anxiety was palpable.

"Outside? Alone? That is out of the question. The city is dangerous. The Church is looking for you. The Rook's agents… No. You are safe here."

This was the wall she had anticipated.

The wall of his possessiveness.

It was time to demolish it.

She approached him, her hands placing themselves on his shoulders, her gaze diving into his.

"It is precisely because you are here that I can do it. Your power is my shield. But a shield is useless if the sword cannot strike."

Her body pressed against his, a whisper of silk and warmth.

"Let me be your sword."

What followed was not a conversation, but a conquest.

She led him to the velvet divan, and their lovemaking was a calculated storm.

Catherine took the initiative, becoming a sensual predator, an incarnation of the Pathway of Lust. Every kiss was a question, every caress an affirmation of her power over him.

She undressed him, not with the fervor of a lover, but with the slowness of a poker player revealing a master card.

She made him climax a first time with a skill that left him gasping, his mind empty of all rational thought.

Then, while he was still in the haze of pleasure, she straddled him.

Their bodies joined with a force that made the divan creak.

She moved above him, dominating him, her gaze never leaving his.

"A caged bird cannot sing the secrets of the wind," she panted, her voice a mixture of feigned pleasure and strategic truth.

"Set me free, my lord… and I will bring you the world."

During the act, her mind remained cold.

She observed the threads of his resistance fraying, replaced by cables of raw desire.

She felt his need to possess her transform into an even greater need to please her, to satisfy her. She was his goddess, and a goddess does not remain locked away.

When he reached his peak for the second time, in a cry that was total surrender, she knew she had won.

Later, in the post-coital intimacy, as he stroked her hair, his resistance was broken.

"You are right," he admitted, his voice hoarse.

"You need space. But you will not go out alone. That is non-negotiable. Kenji will accompany you. Everywhere. He will be your shadow, your protector. No one will dare approach you."

It was the concession she had been waiting for. She snuggled against him.

"As you wish. Your wisdom is my only protection."

The next day, Catherine left the manor for the first time as a free woman, or nearly so.

Dressed in a simple traveler's robe, her face partially hidden by a hood, she walked the city streets. Behind her, at a respectful but constant distance, was the silent shadow of Kenji.

The tension between them was palpable. He was her guard, but also her jailer.

She did not head for the wealthy quarters or the markets.

She returned to her territory.

The slums.

She led him through a maze of alleys she knew by heart, to a respectable but discreet pleasure house, "The Silk Pillow."

She entered, leaving Kenji to stand guard outside.

Inside, she asked to see the madam.

A woman in her fifties, of eastern descent, appeared.

Her eyes were narrowed by weariness and wisdom, and she smoked a long pipe.

This was Madame Lin, a woman who had run her establishment with an iron fist for twenty years and knew every secret whispered on the pillows of her brothel.

Catherine wasted no time.

She was not here as Cat.

She was a businesswoman.

She placed a small velvet bag on the table, which made a heavy, promising sound.

"Madame Lin. I represent a wealthy and discreet patron who needs eyes and ears in this city. Your girls hear many things. The guards, the merchants, the minor officials… they talk when they feel comfortable."

Madame Lin looked from the purse to Catherine's hooded face.

"I want to buy those whispers," Catherine continued.

"I want you to be the hub of my information network. In exchange for this gold, and much more to come, your girls will report to me everything unusual they hear. A name. A plot. A fear. The first name on my list is Jun-Ho Park."

Madame Lin picked up the purse, weighing its contents. It was a small fortune. She smiled, a joyless smile.

"Gold speaks a language I understand. Deal."

Catherine rose to leave. As she reached the door, the old woman's voice stopped her.

"Wait."

Catherine turned back.

Madame Lin stared at her for a long moment, her narrowed eyes seeming to pierce the hood and shadow.

"A powerful patron, you say? It's been a long time since I've seen a girl with eyes like yours. The last one also wanted to set the world on fire."

She took a puff from her pipe.

"Be careful you don't become what you hunt, little one. The strongest cages are the ones we build for ourselves."