Even back in Tirnanoc, Tourmaline had a strong disconnect between sex and affection. Vignette was the only person who ever got her to consider otherwise, and their two years together were the most glorious of Tourmaline's life. The problem with Tourmaline having trouble connecting that deeply with anyone is that the moment they had problems, it was far too easy for her to look elsewhere for the physical connection she sought.
The affair with the princess was not worth losing Vignette over, and the selfish part of Tourmaline didn't expect that Vignette would well and truly leave. She should have gone with Vignette instead of staying behind for a flashy role in a crumbling society. Maybe she would have picked up some humility that would help her with life on Carnival Row.
Even long after they'd split up, even after that handsome brute of a fellow caught Vignette's eye and snared her heart, Tourmaline still tried to make sure Vignette survived the fall of their homeland. She had the transit papers secreted away on her person when she arrived at the mimasery, but she knew fairly quickly Vignette could get her own if Philo wised up to how far entwined they were. She was in no way surprised when Vignette stayed, both because Philo was there and because of her enhanced sense of duty.
Tourmaline had no such loyalty to a dying land. She knows too much about how the Pact works to ever risk staying under its rule. The Burgue may be an awful choice for someone such as her, but it's the lesser of two evils. She used the extra papers to get a child passage instead, and if gratitude meant the mother was willing to sneak away for a stolen moment or two on the crowded ship, Tourmaline has never resisted what was openly offered.
Once she's been ushered toward the Row, though, she realizes there are just different bindings here. Where she was once lauded as a beautiful and educated woman, here she's left with two options: work as a servant for humankind or work in even more poverty with Fae who are barely scraping by themselves. Initially, she's seen as too genteel to be handed the other options, which are either outright unlawful or unsavory under Burgish morals.
Sleeping with a pretty Burgish soldier got her papers to get to safety, so she's not too wary of continuing to trade sex for improving her lot in life. Working in a Fae-owned brothel seems far more savory than bending knee to the elite of the Burgue.
"This isn't the place for a woman of your education and background," Madame Moira cautions, frowning at Tourmaline across the small table in her private quarters. There's a decent meal spread out between them, luxuries Tourmaline hasn't seen in ages, and it firms her decision that this is where she wants to be.
"That's exactly why I'd excel at the job," Tourmaline says with a saucy smile. "Surely not all your clients are here for a quick grunt and poke."
"Some might appreciate some conversation, and your poetry certainly fits the atmosphere here," Moira concedes, taking a dainty bite of food. "You could contract out for better work than most among the Burgish, though. Some families wouldn't mind a Pix governess or lady's maid."
"And how does the pay for those poor wretches compare to one night in your establishment?"
"You know it's a pittance compared to what men will pay for the illusions they buy here, with a bit of privacy thrown in. Much safer than a mistress, who would probably end up pregnant or spiteful."
Safer in many ways, Tourmaline knows, because the risk of a human impregnating a Fae is pretty damn low. Even when it does happen, the pregnancies rarely make it to term, and the children often don't make it more than a few months, much less grow enough to cause some prudish Burgishman any headaches with his wife.
"Then why should I endure hours upon hours of human company, when I could simply dazzle a lusty lout or two per night and have the rest of my time for my own ventures?"
Moira sighs and shrugs. "If that's how you wish it to be, I've no real reason to turn you away. You'll certainly fetch a good price among the young bucks."
Vocation settled, Tourmaline enjoys the meal before settling into the room assigned to her. One thing about the Tetterly Hotel is that it allows her the illusion that she's an unwelcome wretch in a foreign land. The hotel is aging bit by bit, but it's still far nicer than the accommodations most Fae have here. The bed is large and comfortable, and if she's careful of Moira's respect for her former life as poet laureate, she can likely pick and choose her clients at will. Being a bit hard to acquire will make her services worth more, she suspects.
One of the other ladies helps her dye her hair, and Tourmaline chooses one who enjoys her work here rather than feeling like it's something to be endured. Fleury is a cheerful girl, willing to gossip and give Tourmaline all the tips on how to build her own following at the Tetterly. The young men adore her, but Fleury tends toward older men when she can.
"They can be quite sweet, the ones who are just lonely. Those are the ones you try to get as regulars. Sometimes, they don't even want a fuck; they just want conversation and a meal, and they'll pay the entire night's fee."
"And the ones who pay the higher fees?" Tourmaline asks, already sure of the answer.
Fleury sighs, shuddering delicately. "We don't cater to anything dangerous, not with Moira in charge of the place. But if you want to make one pay dearly for the privilege of getting between your thighs, make sure Moira knows why."
Tourmaline finds those problem clients an interesting challenge in the end, and paying extra for her just seems to sweeten the deal. She makes a habit of being alluring to the ones the other girls prefer to avoid, and if that means she makes higher fees and has a few guilders slipped her way in gratitude from her fellow whores, she doesn't mind. Even with those, she still takes fewer clients than Fleury and most of the others, while building a nest egg for herself. Here, she still has choices.
One day, she'll leave this false refuge for a better land. The Pact cannot spread their poison everywhere. But not until she knows for sure that Vignette will not arrive on these shores... not until there's no more hope.