There are very few things in life that can make you feel like more of a bitch than realizing you helped steal the happiness away from a dying woman. Take my word for it; I have done a lot of bad things in my life. I have ruined men, ruined families, ruined fortunes, ruined myself. Ruining is, after all, what whores at best at. Does the word offend you? Sorry. Wench, prostitute, dancer, bawdy girl, broad, doxy, hooker, floozy, tramp, courtesan, concubine, whore. It all comes down to the same thing, doesn't it? I ruin people for money and pleasure. And, yes, I enjoy it.
Some of the ladies I have known claim they do it because they have no other choice. They say they were driven to it as a last act of desperation, and blame the world around them for it like it is a serial killer and they are the poor, innocent, lovely victims. I do not bother with the innocence. Men do not pay for innocence. They pay for simple, filthy, guilty pleasure. Who can really blame them?
Others, more like myself, do not bother with this illusion. We feel no need to explain ourselves. We do what we do, and why we do it is no one's business but our own. We are fully aware of the harm we do, but rarely feel guilty. After all, they come to us. Their reasons, their stories, their names – none of it matters to us. The only thing that influences us is the money. If they are willing to pay, we do our job happily. If a family gets ruined or a fortune squandered on pretty jewels for our fingers, what does it matter to us?
Then, there are the women like her, the one who inspired all this thought. They are the ones who balance somewhere in between. They are the most real, I suppose. They cheat, lie, and ruin just like the rest of us, but they feel something. It depends on the lady. They all have something, though. Hope, love, a future, a life waiting somewhere away from it all. She had all those things, or could have had them.
Damn him. If he had never showed up this would never have happened. Sure, she still would have died, but everyone else would be much better off. The duke would have had his pretty moll to himself for awhile, and she might even have stayed alive long enough to become an actress like she always dreamed. Most importantly, in my selfish eyes, at least, I would never have ruined the life of a dying woman.
You might wonder how I did this. After all, the whole dirty scandal was closed up real quick as soon as it was over. Well, I was the one who gave away the whole secret. I told the duke what the pair of lovebirds was up to. The poor man was far too oblivious to be able to figure it out on his own. I figured I could finally be number one if she was out of the picture. Instead it all collapsed. Who was I trying to fool? I knew my interference couldn't help anyone.
I have ruined so many more lives than you could ever imagine. Does that make me a bitch? Certainly. Do I regret it? Not in the slightest.