Disclaimer: I'm only playing in Pat's beautiful playground.

Chapter 19: The House of Gold

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I was in The Guild when he approached me.

I remember it all: the way the air had smelled faintly of cedar and lemongrass as it crackled with warmth, lit by the flickering glow of several roaring hearthfires and a sea of candles. The light had been dim, as usual, though bright enough to see the words I etched into the paper atop the polished surface of the bar. The wood beneath my forearms was dark, smooth oak and pleasantly warm to the touch. I hadn't meant to, but I was lost within the words that flowed onto the page through my fingers as the air buzzed around me. A hum of indistinct conversations underscored by the soft turnings of a harp. His voice had broken through all that; a light tenor in my ear that nearly made me jump in surprise.

"A journal, my lady?"

I hadn't jumped, but only because it was my ninth span in Central, and I had put extensive work into not startling easily. Even when distracted. Especially when waiting. And I was waiting. Still, it was a near miss, and my hands twitched as I closed my notebook and turned to meet the eyes of the gentleman beside me. I smiled.

He was tall and slim, his hair a dark tangle of curls that pleasantly framed his face before spilling across the trim of his tunic. His eyes, light blue and sparkling with traces of amusement, held mine. As if he knew exactly how much he'd startled me, and it gave him great pleasure to watch me deny it now.

It was an invitation. The first step of a dance that could be dangerous as easily as it was beautiful. The entire formation precarious. But I'd had ample time to learn the steps. And the rhythm.

"A journal?" I repeated, laying down the notebook. "This? No, sir. It's a study."

"Really? And what are you studying? If I may ask?"

"You may." I smiled. "Though I'm not sure if I should answer. You are, after all, a stranger. We've hardly even met, and already you're asking me to give my secrets away. What is a proper lady to think of such behavior?"

"This is fair," he conceded with a smile, and gestured to the empty stool beside me. "Then it only seems proper for a gentleman to get to know the lady better. In order to inquire after her various secrets, and perhaps offer some of his own. May I sit?"

"You may," I repeated, and slid over my half-empty glass of fruit wine to make room on the bar. He settled comfortably into the stool, turning to face me again.

"Thank you. Can I buy you a drink, my lady? Before we get into the mutual spilling of secrets?"

"Ah, but I already have a drink." I smiled brightly. "Which you very well know, sir. Are you trying to get me drunk so that I spill my secrets faster?"

"Guilty, I'm afraid," he admitted with a laugh. "Since you've caught me, perhaps I can tempt you with food instead."

"That, you may," I said, and let him wave down the barman, which he did quite efficiently before proceeding to order a spread of cheeses, hams, and fruits. I was a fan of that particular platter, and so I smiled once again.

"A good choice," I told him. "A large enough spread to impress a lady, but not so much food as to scare her away."

"Surely," he agreed, returning his attention to me. "You are familiar with it."

"Intimately. It's quite the commitment of small plates."

"A minor commitment," he said, almost as if to reassure me. "One that doesn't even require the use of a fork, should you not wish it."

"Quite. And what of you, sir? Will you commit to a fork?"

"I can both commit and not commit," he said easily. "As the lady wishes."

"So if I wish it, you shall abandon all decorum and descend on the cheese platter with nothing but your hands?"

"It is a great sacrifice, but if you ask it of me, I shall, of course, lay down my silverware and throw myself upon this platter of platters in a most barbarian manner. If only it pleases you."

I laughed brightly. "I should like to see that."

"Then shall I throw my fork aside, my lady?"

"Don't throw it too far," I cautioned. "You could take someone's eye out."

"Fair," he agreed. "I must bow to your wisdom."

"You bow quickly." I noted. "I see you are most eager for my secrets."

"I will admit a certain curiosity," he said. "But before I ask for your secrets again, I must first ask for your name. Though in good faith, I will start with mine. I am Julian. And you, my lady?"

"Alana," I said easily, and allowed him to lightly brush his lips against the back of my hand.

The barman returned, depositing the aforementioned platter before us along with two sets of silverware and a glass of dark beer for Julian. He winked at me before melting into the background. Julian, too busy scrutinizing the spread, didn't notice. I waited until I had his attention again before shooting him a pointed glance, smiling, and deliberately picking up my fork and using it to spear a grape. It tasted crisp and sweet, like a perfect summer. Definitely imported from Yll.

"I've decided to allow you to retain your courtly decorum," I said, smiling. "For now."

"I'm relieved." He picked up his own cutlery and shaved off a piece of cheese. "I would have surely done it for you, but it pained me."

"Hmmm." I dipped some cheese in a bit of honey and popped it in my mouth, savoring the sweetness. "That does make it more impressive."

Julian helped himself to a slice of honeyed apple before gesturing at my notebook. "So, Lady Alana, will you tell me what you're studying?"

"Oh, this and that," I said lightly. He raised his eyebrows and I relented. "All right, people."

"People?" He frowned.

"People," I confirmed, the lie slipping effortlessly off my tongue. Like every other one I'd told tonight. "Their social interactions. It's fascinating stuff."

"It does sound interesting. What is the study for?"

"My curiosity." I smiled, letting him see a sliver of teeth.

"Really? Is that all?"

"All right, no, I'm trying to be terribly mysterious," I conceded, and leaned closer to add in a whisper. "I'm trying to write a book, you see. And I like to come here and people-watch. For inspiration."

"Oh." He couldn't contain his grin. "So you're a writer. Are you published?"

The curiosity in his voice was so thick I could have sliced through it, had I wanted to. I briefly met his eyes and smiled, a little more shyly this time, before glancing down at my hands.

"Oh, nothing so bold as that," I said, with a tone of moderate disappointment. "I dabble. But I hardly know if I'm any good. It's something I'd like to improve on. And I'd love for my interactions to be realistic, you see. So, I study."

"So what have you learned?" he asked, tilting his head toward mine. "From all your studying?"

"Well," I whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. "Do you see that couple? Over there?" I pointed down the length of the bar, where a squat Vintish gentleman and his bony wife sat together in silence over their own array of small plates. "They've both got another partner." I leaned even closer, until my lips almost brushed his ear. "In bed, I mean."

"Lord and Lady Avelian?" he gasped, then stifled his words and shot the couple a furtive glance. I giggled.

"And they've no idea," I said softly. "But that isn't all. Wouldn't you like to know who they're sleeping with?"

"Well, go on then."

"Anesta," I breathed. "The Modegan serving girl."

"No! Really? The one who's here Felling nights?"

"She's here tonight, too," I offered. "She's in the back now, but she'll be out soon enough."

"All right," he said. "And who is Lady Avelian sleeping with, then?"

"Anesta," I repeated, and watched his mouth drop.

"Tehlu!" he gasped. "So they're both— And they've no idea? Really?"

I nodded and bit off another piece of cheese. Julian eyed the couple once more before returning his attention to me. "You saw all that? From your studying?"

I nodded easily.

"Anything else?"

I shrugged. "The seafood supplier will be changing next span, and the cost of the membership will be going up."

"Tiny gods, they're bleeding us dry."

"A bit," I agreed. "Though I hear they sometimes offer discounts to pretty girls."

"Well, then you must be simply getting in for free," he said with an easy smile. I returned it.

"That," I said simply, "is quite enough secrets for now."

"Of course," he said, and I saw his eyes linger on the golden pin below my collar before settling back on my face. "I forget myself. Allow me to share some of my own before you tell me what else you know."

I leaned back and gestured grandly for him to continue. And then I waited for him to tell me what I already knew. That he was Julian Panelion, the only son of Sparathain Grayden Panelion of Renere's Trade Ministry. That he was a renowned member of The Guild, along with his parents, though they maintained the membership mostly for appearances and didn't often frequent the establishment. His father's deepest desire was to have Julian join him in the Ministry before inheriting the title.

And you will, I thought silently, as Julian picked at the platter again before telling me about his time at Renere's university. You will. But your passion is not trading, but writing. Poetry mostly, but you've ventured into other forms of the art as well. Though your father thinks it an unbecoming hobby. And your mother, Lysa, has also asked you to put it aside. But you haven't. So this is where you come to spend your evenings. This is where you come to drink, and write, and find women to bring home who'll have you. And you have sat here for many nights now and watched me, just as I have watched you, though our eyes never met. And I've intrigued you — I, the girl with the notebook who sits at the bar of The Guild and carves words endlessly into paper. I know, because you've asked of me. You've seen me work through at least two cheese platters on my own before finally approaching me. It took you a long time, so you must have planned it carefully. You didn't rush, and I appreciate that of you.

I appreciate it, Julian, because it tells me so much more of your constitution than watching you ever has. And I've been watching too long a time.

Pleasantly spent, the time flew by, until even the platter of platters had grown scant and empty, and we both expressed a desire for more food. Julian suggested the restaurant at the west end of The Guild, but I had frequented it well enough to crave a change of scenery. And besides, Marette was working tonight, and did she really need to see me entertain another man right in The Guild's main dining hall? She already disliked me well enough.

So I let Julian help me don my coat and lead me away from the polished bar. I followed him through the dim lounge as we wended our way between poufs and small leather couches and endless groups of chattering people. Past small tables topped with food and drinks and candles. Around the partial screen — which was woven together into a pattern of golden fans — that separated the parlour from the lounge.

Gerald smiled graciously at us from behind the counter that framed the entryway.

"Sir Panelion. Lady Alana." He took in the sight of us, his eyes lingering on my face.

"Good night, Gerald," I said. "I shall see you soonest. Tomorrow."

"Very well, my lady. Have a good evening."

"Always," I said, smiling, and let Julian lead me out into the falling night.

It was cool, but not so cold as all that. Nearly spring already. Still, I let Julian put his arm around my shoulders. It was a nice gesture, and warmth was hard enough to come by that I wouldn't be fool enough to turn it away. We made our slow way from The Guild like that, with his arm firmly around me. And I glanced back at its unobtrusive sign, swaying slightly in the wind, and thought back to that night when I saw it for the first time.

A night much colder than this one.

I had slipped into The Guild as darkness fell, its black tendrils settling over the city streets like black velvet. The cold hugging my shoulders melted away as I stepped into its dark interior. I was well familiar with it now, but back then the flickering quality of the light had intrigued me, and I had looked past the screen to the grand lounge in wonder.

It was beautiful in a dark and mysterious way that spelled out promise.

"Welcome to The Guild." It was Gerald, dressed in a fine tunic of silk and velvet, who greeted me with a courtly bow. "I don't believe I have had the pleasure of meeting you before, my lady."

My response was a smile, and silence.

"Are you a new member?"

I wasn't. And he charged me dearly for it, despite his apologetic expression. One silver bit for the night. I didn't like to think about how much a full membership would cost; a pass which would grant me unlimited entry.

I remembered how he had smiled with welcome as I handed over the precious coin. How he had brought out a ledger from behind the counter and dipped his pen into the inkwell. Then he paused, the pen hovering over the page. A drop of ink suspended off its metal tip. "Ah, but I haven't asked for your name, my lady." His eyes met mine once more. "If you would be so kind?"

For half a second, I was silent. In that half second, which lasted an eternity in my mind, I stood frozen. I thought of Denna, and how I had carried her everywhere all this time. How every name I wrapped around myself was like a small piece of her, keeping me strong. And now I was standing before yet another door with yet another path she would have never walked. She would have found another way. But this was the only road I saw.

And perhaps it would be easier to walk it alone.

"Alana," I said. And just like that, I left Denna outside The Guild. And my voice didn't shake at all.

The time after that melted away in a smattering of moments. I explored The Guild that first night; moving through the lounge, with its low chairs and couches and small candlelit tables; slipping along the bar, my fingers trailing across the polished wood; glancing inside the restaurant at the far back. The Garden, it was called. The food was a marvel; though I wouldn't learn that until later, when Yarell bought me my first dinner. They served meat and fish prepared in ways I'd never imagined, and delicate sweets, and fresh vegetables even in midwinter. And wine pairings to sing of. All luxuries well-reflected in the prices, though there was a discount for members. But it was laughable.

And the people. They were everywhere — in the lounge, the restaurant, at the bar. On the roof, despite the frigid winter air. In the various dipping pools that comprised The Guild's lower level. Lords and ladies, and noblemen. Rich merchants. Artists. Writers. The entire cast of Felward's Falling — the play being put on at Renere's Winterlight Theatre, which I saw three span later with a young musician named Clef. I enjoyed both the play and his company.

But that first night, I met a gentleman on my explorations, and it all seemed easy as breathing. We talked, and he treated me to wine and bread and cheese. We sat in a dark corner of the lounge for hours and sipped wine and spoke of small nothings. He wanted me to leave with him that night, but I wanted this new life to be something more. To be better. And May had said I was to be a duchess. And a duchess didn't sell out to the first man that came along and offered her a warm bed. So we parted with plans to meet again next day.

But he didn't return, and I spent my second night at The Guild alone with my thinning purse, a glass of wine I could barely afford, and a gnawing hunger for company. And my endless, swirling thoughts.

"How much is a membership?"

Gerald smiled at me from across the counter. A span had passed since I arrived in Central. In that time, I had visited The Guild eight times and spent nearly all my coin. And built a tenuous friendship with Gerald based on a sea of deceptions. I had also explored other establishments in the vicinity, went out with four gentlemen, one of them thrice, and spent the night with a merchant who gifted me a fine pearl necklace to match my "silky skin," which I promptly sold for a full round. But The Guild — where young creatives, nobles, and lords spent their evenings — was my best chance to find what I was looking for.

And if I kept paying the visitor fee, I would run myself into the ground.

"At last." Gerald's eyes twinkled. "I was starting to believe you would never ask, my lady."

"Me too," I admitted. And I had been hoping I wouldn't need to. But the cost of living in Central was exorbitant, and things were not progressing nearly as fast as I would have liked. Or as fast as I could afford. I twisted Mother's ring in a flash of anxiety.

"Ah, but why? You are surely fond of our establishment."

"Oh, I am. It has the most perfect atmosphere. Beautiful design. And the food… Ah, Gerald, it's to die for."

"Quite true." He looked pleased at the compliment. "We would love to have you join us. In the official sense, of course. It's a royal for an annual membership, my lady."

A royal…

"Ah." My heart sank. Tehlu. It was a veritable fortune; more money than I could even imagine.

My dismay must have shown on my face, for Gerald offered me an understanding smile. "It is steep, my lady. But, if you will forgive me for saying so, if you continue to pay the visitor fee, you will spend quite a bit more. And before spring is out, at that."

"I know." I sighed. It wasn't really a concern. I wouldn't last until spring.

The corners of his lips pursed slightly as he watched me, as if feeling out the edges of a frown, but he said nothing. The door opened behind me, and a blast of cold wind preceded a couple who stumbled inside, laughing. I stepped aside, watching them approach Gerald at the counter. The woman had on a beautiful layered dress of blue satin beneath a wool coat that flared around her ankles, and her ashen hair was set in elaborate curls atop her head. The man was dark-haired and clean-shaven, and wore a charcoal suit fitted to his slim frame. There was a silver elaborate G pinned to his lapel, glittering as it caught the candlelight. The man greeted Gerald with enthuthiasm before disappearing behind the screen, pulling the woman along with him.

I sat down on the elaborately-carved wooden bench opposite the screen as they walked past, glancing down at my hands. Mother's ring had twisted to the side along my finger. I fiddled with it, setting it straight again.

"Lady Alana?"

I glanced up, and Gerald's dark eyes met mine, his expression quite unreadable.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," I said, making my way back to the counter as I pulled out a silver bit. My purse felt horribly light without it, as if it contained little more of substance. Not that the silver itself was heavy. I twined the coin between my fingers for a long, silent moment. If I didn't find a proper man soon, it wouldn't be long before I was back on the street. And what then?

"No membership today, then?" Gerald offered me an encouraging smile.

"I haven't got a royal, Gerald," I admitted.

He looked uncomfortably taken aback. "I apologize, my lady. I did not mean—"

"It's fine," I said. "Fine. I'm the one who asked, after all."

I twirled the coin between my fingers again, not quite willing to part with it. Was tonight the night I would meet the man who would change everything? If I didn't, I'd have to start selling off Calia's dresses. And if I did that, then what would I wear to The Guild? I surely wouldn't bed a gentleman if I showed up in secondhand rags.

Not that I wanted to bed any gentlemen at all. But maybe that was a mistake. Maybe if I'd slept with Caspar on that first night, I'd be better off now.

Tehlu, I couldn't fail. Not again. Not at this, too.

"You are visiting Renere, yes?" Gerald asked, his soothing lilt breaking into my thoughts and bringing me back to the present. I met his eyes again. "To study at the university?"

"Yes," I agreed, though it was profoundly untrue.

"And your family… they cannot help you?"

"No, they don't… My father doesn't… doesn't support my choices. At U.R. And as such, he refuses to pay for a Guild membership. I've asked."

"I am sorry to hear that. Truly."

I sighed again, then carried on, caught up in the web I'd woven for Alana. "Thank you. Yes, me as well, it's all quite disappointing. Father wanted me to study mathematics and logic, you see, so I could work at the courts. But I fell in love with… writing. Poetry and the like. And Father is displeased. He says it's horribly unbecoming for a lady. 'What will you do, Alana? Travel the four corners and recite poetry like some common bard?'" I scrunched up my face in imitation. "And so what if I do? But he wouldn't have it. He says if I have an inkling for the arts, I should sponsor a young poet, rather than jumping in headfirst myself."

"A rather old view of the world." There was a flash of pain in Gerald's eyes, and I pushed on.

"I know! Just look how many proper lords and ladies at The Guild are fond of the arts themselves. But he will not budge." I blinked then, letting the stinging that lived in the crevices around my eyes surge to the surface, until I was sure he could see it in my eyes. "He may even stop paying my tuition, Gerald! He'd have me give this up, or come straight home. I just don't know what I'll do. And it's all so much worse because The Guild is just the perfect place."

"For what?" His kind voice was thick with understanding.

"For my creative inspiration!" I explained. "I've never had so many ideas as the last few nights I spent here. It's where my muse comes alive."

He smiled at that. "We do pride ourselves on maintaining a stimulating atmosphere."

"Rightfully," I said, twirling the coin again. I sighed dramatically. It was easy with Alana. So easy. Just another act in a life full of pretending. "Well, I suppose I can enjoy it for a few nights more, at least. Write my aria before Father cuts me off entire."

I held out the coin and then paused, a thought striking me. "Unless…"

"I can see the spark of inspiration in your eyes," he said kindly. "What is it?"

"Isn't there anything I can do, Gerald? To earn a membership? Any work, or…?"

"My lady!" he said, aghast. "It would hardly be proper to put you to work like some common—"

"Stop, you sound like Father." I frowned. "I was raised with more sense than that. If I were a proper lady, I wouldn't wish to be a poet."

"Still…"

"Oh, go on," I said. "Gerald, please. I can wash dishes. Or cook, or bake. I can do all sorts. Isn't there anything?"

"All that? Simply for a membership?"

"And maybe a bit to set aside to cover my tuition?" I shrugged. "A proper job. I can do it. I promise. But I must have my evenings, Gerald. Those nights when the candles flicker and the people come. When the lounge comes alive. That's when I'm most inspired. And it must look all proper when I'm there. I am a lady, after all. Not some common serving girl." I smiled. "What do you say?"

He considered me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "If that is what you wish, my lady, I believe we can come to an arrangement. If you really think you can do it…"

I nodded eagerly.

He sighed. "Come along then, let us see what we can sort out."

And, somehow, we had sorted it out. For the first time in a long time, things had finally fallen into place in a way that made sense. And there was no man at The Guild who had rushed to my rescue and done it for me. No, I had done it for myself. And eventually I came to realize that I was doing it all for myself. Even with the men who came to consider themselves my benefactors. In the end, everything I did, every decision I made, was mine.

So Gerald and the manager, Aerin, and I came to an arrangement. I would come to The Guild five times a span, and I would be put to work. Nothing too strenuous, and certainly nothing client-facing — for I was a lady, and engaging in such work would appear… unbecoming. But that aside, I would do all that Aerin asked. I would clean, and wash, and help compose promotional materials, since I was such an aspiring writer. Or I would mind inventory and organize endless bottles of wines and spirits. Or scrub and prepare mounds of vegetables for the cooks.

I would do this around my nonexistent school schedule, which was flexible and subject to change, for I was also a member of many nonexistent study and writing groups. And so I would come in the mornings. Or the afternoons. And in the evenings, I would put on my finest dresses and stroll through the front door as a guest, and be addressed as such. And I would, of course, have my very own pin. A golden G that I could wear proudly on my dress signifying my coveted Guild membership.

And so it commenced. The days turned to span, and I slowly made The Guild my home, learning all its hidden cracks and crannies. I wasn't drowning in coin, but I had enough to keep my small room at Frames with its solitary window and my own piece of sky. Enough for food on my plate. For the occasional glass of wine or platter of cheese that allowed me to play the role that I needed to play. And the men I met there slowly began to fill in the gaps. And meeting them, talking to them, grew easier. Soon, it was as second-nature to me as breathing.

And that was when I began to seek them out, to trace their outlines and shade them in before we even spoke. To mold myself into the version of Alana I needed to become to draw their interest. Tailored for each of them. And the time I spent with them grew longer in turn, until we inevitably parted. They were simple relationships. Easy. They all started the same way — a chance meeting at The Guild. A pleasant night of laughter and drinking and eating. And then we would see each other again. And again. We would leave The Guild behind and spend our days and evenings wandering Renere. We would see plays and operas and visit fine restaurants. That winter, I went skating no less than eight times, each time with my hand on the arm of a different gentleman. And when enough nights had passed between us and darkness fell once again, thick and soft as velvet, I would let them strip off the layers of cloth between us. Though my mask stayed firmly intact.

And then, eventually, the relationships would falter. I could never pinpoint why, but I was never disappointed to see them go. It was easier that way. No long-term attachments to wade through. And the freedom to try again stretched out before me. They didn't cling to me so tightly, back then. Not like later. Perhaps they were the wrong sort of men for it, or I was simply still too young, still figuring it out. But my time at The Guild didn't pass too badly. It was a bright spot, even. A bit of home. Sometimes I still wonder how much longer I could have managed it all. How different things would have been.

Had I not met Julian.