To say that the rest of the morning's meal did not go well felt like the understatement of the century. Primrose couldn't seem to force herself to eat anything no matter how important she knew that it was. She kept on thinking about what she was going to be doing later that day, plunging her dagger into the chest of one of her father's killers. She still kept expecting the other foot to drop with the rest of the group either leaving her or getting hurt. That seemed to be the typical pattern with her, didn't it? She was a magnet for all things rotten whether she wanted to admit it or not.
And then there was Therion's damn warning. Primrose was glad that he had finally broken his vow of silence to speak up about something that wasn't a petty verbal stab at another member of the party, but that relief was dashed by everything that he had told her about in such a short time. Even just a few words could hold more power than anyone realized if they were used properly, and damn it, those were the last words that Primrose had been wanting to hear.
Primrose struggled to keep herself together as she thought about what was going to be happening next. Father crossed her mind on multiple occasions, simultaneously apologizing for mutilating the girl that had once been his daughter into something unrecognizable and detestable and praying for his forgiveness. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. It hadn't truly come together since Yusufa was still alive, and if one wanted to get truly technical, such a statement could also be applied to Geoffrey Azelhart's death all that time ago when Primrose was just a child trembling in the shadows left behind by a trio of crows and their endless wingspan.
Primrose was standing outside the inn when she pulled her dagger away from its sheath at her leg. She had been keeping it there for years up to that point, the blade the only reminder of her father that she had been able to keep in her iron grip when House Azelhart fell away and she ran from the wreckage. Not a day went by that she didn't have it at arm's reach, hiding under her skirt or out in the open. It was the only way for her to feel close to the man who she could no longer touch or see anywhere but her own dreams, and on a fateful day like this one, she needed that more than ever before.
Primrose's slender features came into view along the dagger's edge, and she had to wonder if there was a timeline out there where her father would recognize the woman that she had become. Primrose had been forced to kick the child that she had once been to the curb, unable to care for the trembling and fearful young girl that she had been the night that her father was killed. She had a greater mission, and little girls didn't go out on revenge trips.
Her reflection was difficult for even Primrose to decipher, like there were just a few weather-worn wrinkles in her skin too many for her to fully comprehend what it was that she was supposed to be feeling. This was going to be one of the biggest days of her damn life, and yet, she could barely manage to keep herself focused. All she could hope was that her father was still looking after her from beyond the grave. A selfish part of her wished that he didn't hate her the way that she had feared in the silence all these years. A deeper part even still wondered if this revenge mission was more for her sake than his, a dark whisper that seemed to want to pull her apart at the seams on the eve of her first true triumph.
After all, Helgenish's death hadn't been a triumph. It had been a tragedy, and he had been a monster. His death was justice on behalf of someone who didn't deserve to die, and to Primrose, it was just another person soaked with blood in what she knew was going to be a long line left in her terrifying wake.
Primrose put the dagger back in its sheath when she heard the other members of the group come out of the inn, ready for their adventures. Primrose wished that she could tell them where the hell they were going, but the truth was that she didn't even know that much herself. Helgenish had spoken of Stillsnow, but there was nothing else for her to go off in terms of information. She hadn't asked him for clues, unwilling to yield any tidbits as to her true mission to the man who had murdered her one and only friend in the dismal sands of Sunshade. In other words, her first order of operations was going to be to search the town for anything that could point her in the right direction.
"What are we doing first?" Tressa questioned as she approached Primrose, now properly outfitted in clothing meant for the chilled climate of Stillsnow. She and Alfyn had apparently had a field day at the shop in town, Tressa bartering their way into some incredibly high-quality warm clothing meant for the bitter winds of the town.
"We need to find information," Primrose replied simply, doing her best (and ultimately failing) to ignore the jab of guilt in the back of her mind that she was dragging someone so young into her own bloodied problems. She was going to get revenge on someone, going to kill a man, and Tressa had been able to do nothing but hug her and say that it was going to be alright. Primrose didn't understand many things, but she decided that she especially didn't understand how relaxed the merchant could be on the front of revenge. She remembered vaguely hearing about how Tressa had once sought justice for the sake of people who had been hurt by criminals too, but Primrose didn't allow herself to think of that any longer than she had to. After all, to compare herself to Tressa felt like an insult to the young merchant.
"Then let's go," Tressa smiled up at her, every part of her expression so perfectly pure that it didn't even seem to be real. Primrose's mind offered her the image of her younger self dancing before her mirror in an attempt to become as rhythmic as possible before her next lesson with her father. Another part of her mind wondered where the hell everything had gone so wrong.
"The tavern will be our best place to find new intel," Therion declared, his gaze locked squarely on Primrose, almost as if he was trying to say that he was going to be taking the group there one way or another regardless of if Primrose agreed or not.
Luckily for him, she simply offered the thief a nod and began to walk in the direction of the tavern. She knew just how potent a mug of mead was when it came to loosening the lips of those who had a bit too much in terms of information on their hands. The tavern wasn't too far from the inn, and Primrose could tell even before she entered the building that it was a nice place to be. Everything about it was adorned in something splendid, whether it be some of the most ornate lanterns Primrose had ever seen or the stage at the rear of the building. In some ways, the tavern looked a lot like the one that Primrose had danced in so many times back in Sunshade.
Therion's grim reminder rang in her ears once again, and Primrose bit down on her lip until she tasted copper to keep from being knocked over by a wave of her own nausea.
There were as many people bustling around inside the tavern as Primrose would have expected, all of them bearing friendly expressions and the same warm clothing that was the norm in Stillsnow. There wasn't anything openly wrong the way that there was in Sunshade, and in some ways, that only made the feeling in the pit of Primrose's stomach that much worse.
She eyed the stage on the far side of the tavern, a light frown on her face. Primrose knew how much making a good first impression could matter, especially when it came to the terms of gathering information. Dazzled eyes loosened lips, and that was what she valued most in that instant. Even so, she found herself hesitating for a long moment, her mind cast back to the last time that she had danced and what had happened later that night. It took a lengthy battle for her to convince herself that no one would mind if she rose to the occasion to show the occupants of the tavern just what she was capable of.
The stage was the same as the one in Sunshade in quite a few ways, though it was a bit less extravagant. Primrose didn't mind, of course; it was serviceable enough for the ends that she needed to use it for. The rest of the group remained at the back of the tavern as Primrose made her way up the empty stairs to the stage itself. Once she was standing before the crowd, she earned the attention of many people in the tavern, and soon enough, everyone had fallen silent to turn in her direction with curiosity manifesting in their gazes.
When Primrose prepared herself for the performance, she imagined the faces of her father and Yusufa. Both of them had loved watching her dance, albeit in their own unique ways. She made a silent vow that this was for them, whispering their names silently beneath her breath before closing her eyes and allowing the song in her heart to take claim of every part of her being.
The dance passed in the blink of an eye, filled with so much emotion that it was almost enough to overwhelm Primrose completely. The dance had been in the honor of the people who she had lost, and yet, it still didn't seem like enough. Revenge was what mattered most in terms of avenging those who had fallen, and she was going to do what she could to carry out that goal. After all, why else would she be there in Stillsnow in the first place?
The crowd whistled and clapped in response to Primrose's final bow, and she smiled in the direction of her admirers with a grin that made it seem as if she hadn't stabbed herself in the chest with the power of her damn near debilitating empathy and newfound emotional fragility. "Bravo! Now that was a treat for the eyes!" one of the men in the crowd exclaimed, his eyes filled with much more genuine appreciation than anybody in Sunshade. It was strange, but Primrose wasn't objecting to it in the slightest. After all, this was a step above everything that she had seen in the past, and that was one thing she could take as a comfort even in dark times.
"I've never seen such beauty! Where did she come from?" another man whispered to his companion after nudging the other person with his elbow. Primrose didn't hear a response though, too distracted by the overall buzz of the tavern around her.
Her gaze fell upon the rest of her party at the back of the group, and they were all watching her with varying degrees of awe. Even Therion seemed to have been stunned into silence despite his normal snark, his eyes wide as he watched Primrose's every move. Ophilia was clapping politely with a beaming smile on her face as Tressa and Alfyn, ever the encouraging ones, offered the loudest cheers in the crowd. Standing there and staring at the pride in her friends' eyes was almost enough for Primrose to forget about all of her woes.
Almost.
A woman had entered the tavern while Primrose was dancing, her brown hair so dark that it edged on being black. It was tied back into curls that fell along her shoulders and upper back delicately. Her dress was red in color, hardly fitting for the weather but on her body regardless. "No... It couldn't possibly be..." the woman murmured under her breath.
Primrose, however, was ignorant of her presence for a few precious moments longer. As soon as she stepped down from the stage, she was practically assaulted with questions from a few men who approached her with smiles on their faces. They had been sitting in the front row during her performance, watching every motion with rapt attention as if they were the ones who the dance was for (something that Primrose would be able to debunk in the blink of an eye).
"I've never seen dancing like that around here!" one of the men exclaimed as he looked at Primrose from head to toe. His eyes were alight with something passionate, and Primrose remembered briefly the reason that she had originally come to dance in the first place. She had wanted to bring smiles to the faces of those around her with her father being among those in mind at the time. That had ultimately fallen apart while she was in Stillsnow, but she was starting to make progress in the right direction, subtle but still ultimately present.
"It was like an angel had descended from the heavens..." another man mused with a smile of his own.
Primrose simply offered them a smile and a small chuckle. "I thank you for your kind words, milords," she told them, bowing her head in their direction gently. They began to disperse from there, and Primrose's smile began to slip from her face. She had been searching for any signs of unfortunate traces within the crowd the way that Therion had implied earlier that morning, but she hadn't found anything that would be able to lead her to the man of the crow.
It was easy enough for Primrose to deduce that the man of the crow was at least somewhat involved with the shady activities of Stillsnow. He had been speaking with Helgenish about being given a few women for some reason or another, and when that was combined with Therion's tension about the town, it was clear that there was only one conclusion to come to. Unfortunately though, it didn't seem as if anyone would be able to point her in the right direction.
"Lady Primrose..."
That was when the woman in the red dress approached Primrose, her expression something heartfelt and somber, worn down by the sands of time but enduring nonetheless. She watched Primrose with eyes far wiser than her years, clearly yearning for something but unable to articulate her desires in full. The woman seemed to be in a state of disbelief, staring up at Primrose in shock as she waited for the dancer to return her gaze.
That was enough for Primrose to startle out of her daze, and she glanced up to see the woman staring at her from a few feet away. Primrose staggered forward by a few steps, uncaring as to the confused glances that she was getting from the rest of her party members from where they stood at the back wall of the tavern. Instead, she simply focused on the words that the woman was speaking around the tears that were struggling to not fall from her eyes. "It is you... Isn't it, Lady Primrose?" the woman questioned softly.
"Can it truly be... Arianna?!" Primrose asked, her voice breathless in a halfway-formed gasp.
The woman, Arianna, returned her inquiry with a small nod. "Yes... I'm honored that you remember me," she confessed as Primrose wondered how she could have possibly forgotten about Arianna. The woman had once been a servant working under the jurisdiction of House Azelhart within Noblecourt. She and Primrose had gotten along well when the two were still in the bounds of the Flatlands town, but that had all been shattered when the murder of Primrose's father sent fractures out through the city like a hammer slamming into glass.
"It is the guiding light of the Sacred Flame that led us to each other on this day!" Arianna cried out with another tearful, choked sob. Her arms were spread down by her side, and Primrose couldn't help but take that as an invitation for an embrace, closing the distance between herself and Arianna to wrap her arms around the other woman's torso. She was met with a similar gesture in response, and Primrose could have sworn that she felt small droplets of water-tears-make their way into her hair from Arianna's eyes.
"It is hard to believe that ten years have passed since those dark times..." Primrose murmured to Arianna, unsure as to if she was talking about the fact that it felt like a lifetime away because of all that she had seen over the course of the last decade or because of the endless activity that had lined her life from Sunshade to Stillsnow. She ultimately decided that the answer was unimportant as she shifted her focus back to Arianna.
"I feared that we had lost you as well, my lady. But here you are, alive and more beautiful than ever," Arianna smiled gently, though it was clear that she was still stiff and anxious about the exchange to some degree.
"What of you, Arianna? How did you come to live in this distant land?" Primrose questioned of the woman as the two pulled away from their embrace at long last.
Arianna's shoulders immediately grew tense. "After that terrible incident, I... I was relieved of my duties," she began to explain. "I wandered from city to city, living on the streets and performing menial tasks to keep myself fed... I came here to Stillsnow some time ago. Here, I make a modest living as a..." Her voice trailed off, and she ultimately stopped herself from continuing with a subtle yet still notable shake of her head.
Primrose allowed silence to fall between them for a few seconds before she forced herself to speak up to fill the quiet. "As a what?" she questioned, Therion's warning from that morning ringing in her ears once again. The general cacophony of the tavern had disappeared in the favor of the piercing noise in the back of Primrose's mind, and she immediately willed it to come to a halt as soon as possible out of something akin to silent desperation.
Arianna simply shook her head to dismiss the subject before it could be pursued once again. "But, Lady Primrose, what brings you on a journey so far from home?" she questioned carefully, deflecting so clearly that she might as well have been a mirror.
Primrose's eyes fell to the velvet rug lining the center of the tavern's floor. "I am searching for a man," she replied honestly despite the way that copper seemed to shoot up the roof of her mouth with the words. "I have reason to believe that he is here. I followed directions here to Stillsnow after departing Sunshade to see where I can find the man that I have been searching for.
Arianna staggered backwards, her eyes wide as could be and a gasp on her lips. Primrose's gaze shifted up to her old companion, hardening slightly at the idea of a lead. This was what she had been searching for since her performance, and she fully intended to take advantage of it. "Arianna? Do you know where I can find the person that I'm searching for?" she questioned, knowing that she was already confident of the answer.
Despite how clear it was that she was lying, Arianna's body clammed up as she looked down to the ground, her eyes filled with a newfound lack of comfort. "I... I do not. I fear I cannot help you, my lady," she said carefully, choosing out every word as if she was afraid that it had the full possibility to cast her down to hell if she misspoke.
"Please do not hold back, Arianna. You must tell me what you know," Primrose insisted, her voice starting to edge on something desperate and pleading. "I beg of you."
Arianna offered Primrose a careful examination before she allowed her eyes to fall shut, seemingly having changed her mind for the better. "We should not speak of this here. Come with me," she instructed tensely.
"Of course, Arianna. Anywhere you like," Primrose assured the woman without a beat of hesitation.
When Arianna nodded and pivoted on her heel, Primrose was all too happy to trail in her footsteps. She glanced over to where the rest of her companions were watching her reunion with Arianna with confusion in their gazes, gesturing for them to follow her with a subtle hand at her side. They followed suit, careful not to get too close and accidentally startle Arianna in the process.
Arianna stopped just in front of the tavern's door, her hand gracing the handle gently before retreating. "Our dormitory is not far from here," she explained to Primrose carefully, once again taking everything with such caution that it felt as if she was walking on a tightrope rather than simply navigating a conversation with an old friend. "We will be able to talk freely there."
From there, Arianna pushed the door open and walked out into the bitter Stillsnow cold once again. The breeze hit Primrose with unexpected force, knocking what little air remained in her lungs straight out of her body. It wasn't particularly surprising to her that she was reacting with such surprise given the events that had just transpired, but she still felt breathless and odd, almost as if she was walking on a cloud that had the full possibility of giving way beneath her feet at a moment's notice if she misstepped somehow.
The walk to the dormitory was a careful one, and while the building wasn't far from the tavern, it was still a decent enough distance that it gave Primrose the chance to be approached by one of her other traveling companions. Ophilia spoke quietly when she came up beside the dancer, doing what she could to not accidentally frighten the already skittish and anxious Arianna. "So you know this woman?" Ophilia questioned.
Primrose responded with a nod. "Yes, from when I was still living a noble's life. It's been ten years since we last saw each other," she explained simply. There would be time for details later if Ophilia was taken by the whims of curiosity to ask her for further inquiries.
Ophilia simply nodded along, her expression thoughtful. "That's quite a long time..."
"I am glad to see her safe. I tried to find out where she had gone but to no avail," Primrose replied.
"I am so sorry about what happened... To you both," Ophilia murmured, her eyes falling down to the sand below. Arianna's shoes were lining a path in the snow ahead of the pair.
Primrose struggled to not squirm under Ophilia's dutiful sympathy. "You needn't be. After all, I'm sure you've had more than your fair share of hardships too." Ophilia didn't respond, and Primrose offered her a small smile that she prayed came off more optimistic and hopeful than she felt in that moment. "Yet here we are, traveling together and putting the past behind us." Ironic how she said this as she was off to avenge her father's murder by killing three other men, wasn't it? "We should be rejoicing, not feeling sorry for each other."
Ophilia started to offer her the barest traces of a smile at those words. "I'm glad I can make this journey with you. I feel all the braver for knowing you," she confessed softly.
"Good to hear!" Primrose smiled in return, and for the first time, she actually seemed to mean it. She wasn't sure of what the change was, but perhaps her attempts to make Ophilia feel better had done her some good as well.
The conversation had just drawn to a close when Arianna stopped in front of a large building huddled close to the snow, almost as if it was hoping that the ground would absorb it entirely. She opened the door carefully and allowed everyone to follow in after her. Primrose and Ophilia naturally fell away from one another, and the hole in the pit of Primrose's stomach only grew larger, her moment of temporary joy stolen in the blink of an eye. This building reminded her an awful lot of the dancers' dormitory in Sunshade, and all too quickly, she was reminded of Therion's grim warning all over again, shattering any sense of joy that she might have momentarily enjoyed.
The inside of the building was simple, a single fireplace being the only notable feature to line the walls. There were beds pushed onto one side of the building, all clustered close together with what appeared to be the hardest mattresses that Primrose had ever seen. There were a few other women in the building, all of them keeping their heads down as they went about their business, refusing to acknowledge their guests out of something that Primrose immediately knew to be fear. "What is this place...?" was all Primrose could bring herself to murmur under her breath.
"This serene little town has a dark, dirty secret," Arianna replied, her voice laced with bitterness and regret of a breed that Primrose understood all too well. "A brothel, frequented by patrons the realm over."
"What...?" Primrose whispered, her eyes going wide. Therion had been right. This place was just like Sunshade, and if that was the case, it could only mean-
"That is where I make my living. That is right, Primrose... I am a whore," Arianna told the dancer, turning to face her with such conflicted and tempestuous eyes it seemed as if she was on the verge of tearing herself apart in the silence. Primrose looked down to the floor below at those words, trying her best to push back images of Sunshade. Helgenish's hands on her body, Yusufa's blood spilling onto the sand, and the sickening faces of all the men who frequented the town flashed in her mind, and it was all that Primrose could do to keep her hands from shaking openly.
"This town is not far from Flamesgrace, you see. It's a convenient enough place for customers to visit," Arianna explained as she took a few steps away from Primrose. "Some of our best customers would be troubled if their patronage came to light. So the brothel's existence-our existence-is kept a secret. The poorest-kept secret in the Frostlands, mayhap. But the public turns a blind eye."
Primrose's mind flashed with images of Helgenish and the way that he had spoken to the man of the crow. They had been searching for the basis of an exchange, to send off some of Helgenish's dancers to become the prostitutes of the crow. Anger rose up in her chest anew, but she fought it off to the best of her ability. "And the man that I've been searching for..."
Arianna nodded. "I believe that I know who you're referring to... The owner of the brothel," she replied somberly. "He lives in the mansion of the ring not far from here. Of course, you can only get there through a meeting place."
"A meeting place?" Primrose echoed in confusion.
"The location of the brothel is never shared openly. In order to get there, one must ride in a carriage that takes patrons exclusively to the mansion in question," Arianna explained.
Primrose looked down at the ground, only just then noticing the way that the other members of the group were choosing to not pay attention to the current conversation between Primrose and Arianna. They seemed to have recognized that it was something private, but she could tell by the troubled looks in some of their eyes that they recognized what this place was. Even so, she did her best to stay focused on the discussion at hand. "Arianna... Might I ask you one favor?"
Arianna simply nodded. "Anything, my lady."
"Let us board that carriage tonight," Primrose replied, gesturing to the rest of the party with one hand. They would never let her go alone, so she would simply have to bring them along. It was the only option whether Primrose liked it or not. Arianna's eyes went wide in response, prompting the dancer to continue. "I'm searching for a man with the mark of the crow tattooed upon his left arm, and if what you say is true, he must be at that mansion."
Arianna paused, contemplative, before she stepped towards Primrose. "It is true that the owner of the brothel has such a mark... But, Lady Primrose... What do you intend to do when you find him?"
Primrose was silent for a long moment. "Only what I must do."
Arianna eventually nodded. "I understand. Then ready what you need and return to this place. The carriage will be waiting."
Primrose smiled gently but sadly in Arianna's direction. "Thank you, Arianna," she whispered before turning toward the door. The rest of the group watched her silently, finally coming out of their quiet circles of paranoia to address the subject at hand openly.
Arianna remained where she was, only letting out a small sigh as the door was opened and cold air rushed into the building. "I trust you, Lady Primrose," she began. "Please... Be careful." Her eyes were locked solely on the ground below, and she refused to shift her attention up, too weighed down by the countless tragedies that plagued her mind at present.
Primrose's smile remained just as somber and tragic as before. "I wouldn't dream of anything else," was all she said before she walked out of the dormitory and into the bitter wind once again.
This chapter is coming out earlier than I post most chapters of this story, huh? Well, there's a reason for that; I'm moving into college tomorrow, and since that involves waking up at five in the morning, I have to post this as soon as possible so that I can get up and at 'em when the sun comes up. Woohoo!
Anyway, let's talk about the chapter at hand. You can really see the impact of the slower pacing in a chapter like this that really takes its time with the more emotional moments that come with Primrose and her affiliation with Arianna. Their relationship truly is tragic, and they deserve better than what they were given. This is only compounded by the fact that Primrose is so afraid of attachment that she's not letting herself get too close even when it's an old friend that she's known for ages. It's really tragic, but it's perfectly in line with Primrose's character for better or worse.
There's not all that much to talk about for this chapter aside from that, so I'm going to leave you off here. Next time, we'll be picking up with an (altered) Alfyn and Primrose travel banter and then move into the rest of the chapter! Until then, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is appreciated as always. Have a nice day, everyone!
-Digital