“You’ve come a long way,” Sir Tristin nodded once Lucas had gotten free of his armor and joined the group. “Personally and organizationally. Perhaps in time, you won’t need my Knights at all.”

Lucas recognized the trap for what it was and simply smiled. “The bigger we get, the more we will need men ready to fight. You know that.”

“Indeed,” Sir Tristin agreed, taking the coins.

At this point, Lucas felt like an asshole, he’d fought the man so hard over three golden dragons, and that wasn’t shit now. Clearly, he’d have to find an excuse to pay the Knights more when the time came because Lucas was sure that the ability to buy the loyalty of a small army on short notice was a superpower he would always want, just in case.

They talked a while longer, but when he noticed that Danaria was starting to get cold despite her coat and the brazier, he made his excuses, and they returned to the carriage. There, Lucas instructed Mort as to the rest of the plan. “I have no idea how long negotiations with those, uhh… women, are going to take. So, once you drop me off, take Danaria to High Street and let her do some shopping. When I’m finished, I’ll find you there.”

“Aren’t you worried that they could try something?” Danaria asked. “Maybe if you asked Sir Tristin nicely, he’d loan you a few guards while you—”

“It’s going to be fine,” Lucas said. “They’re in this to make money. There’s no grudges here.”

Honestly, Lucas was pretty sure they would try something. Probably more than once, but bringing guards with him wouldn’t protect him from getting seduced, which was the only real danger that the Red Lantern women could unleash on him if he could hold his own with men like Cedrin.

No, he thought to himself, the worst thing that could happen is they bend me over the price of something, and I ain’t agreeing to that until I consult with Kar’gandin, he told himself as they got in the carriage and started back across down into the seedy area between the harbor and the market district on the west side of town known as the Red Lantern District.

Lucas had not spent a whole lot of time here before, but it was about what he’d expected. Brothels of various quality fought for space with bars and taverns, and all of these were mixed together with two and three-story tenements, which created slums of even more questionable quality. It was like someone took the Gray Bottom he’d spent a few months living in, slapped on some brightly colored paint onto the biggest buildings, and called it a day.

The end result was that there were islands of wealth and debauchery surrounded by forests of poverty, which was so bad that there were half-naked children with their begging bowls out along the main thoroughfares, even in the snow.

Lucas saw Danaria looking at them sadly and said, “Listen, we can open up a soup kitchen for them or something, but you are not going to hand out coins to them like you do in Meadowin. It’s dangerous here. Someone would knife you for your purse before you knew what happened.”

“I understand,” she nodded. Her eyes never left the poverty, though. There was a lot of wealth in Lordanin, but it was not spread out evenly.

It turned out that he was going to the biggest island of wealth in the whole area. The Fallen Orchid was a four-foot-tall building painted in bright purples that towered over its nearest neighbors and competitors. In fact, the closest that poverty reached it was the end of the street. It was a grove of opulence amid a forest of misery.

“No stops,” Lucas told his driver when he got out and started removing his case with the cosmetic samples. “I’ll hire myself a carriage when I’m done here. This place isn’t safe for even a midday stroll.”

“Big man, you’re with me,” he said, referring to the tough that had accompanied them throughout the day but done absolutely nothing so far. It pained Lucas to say it, but their organization had grown so large that he no longer knew everyone’s name, so he was just going to have to wing it.

The truth was that it wasn’t any more dangerous here than it was in Gray Bottom; the real difference was when he lived there, he was a scrawny fuck in dirty clothes that didn’t look like he had anything worth taking. In this outfit, though, someone would definitely try for his purse or his throat before he made it somewhere respectable.

Here, though, there were no beggars, and the doorman let them right through. Inside, he had just enough time to take in the over-decorated interior that relied heavily on gilding, mirrors, and velvet upholstery to make it look fancy. However, before he could even introduce himself to the beautiful woman who was standing there in the lobby to greet new customers, she said, “Mister Blue? You’re expected. Please follow Azela, and she will take you to your appointment.”

As soon as her name was uttered, a younger girl appeared, as if by magic, and led Lucas toward one of the two large spiral staircases that lead to the upper floors. If this had been Earth, the place would have no doubt had elevators, but that was one more thing that hadn’t been invented yet. So, he followed the girl, trying not to stare at her ass as she walked in front of him in a slinky dress that made it very clear that she was also on the menu if you were into the waifish type.

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He wasn’t into any type on the menu here, though. So, instead of staring at her, he took in the surroundings. The first floor had been made into a giant sort of parlor or bar. It was basically a waiting room, so it was clean and brightly lit. The second floor had many of the same decor choices, but its lights were dimmed, and the shadowy place was filled with seats that gave the men seated there the perfect place to stare at one of the dancers grinding and gyrating on one of several different platforms.

They hadn’t invented pole dancing in the fantasy world, for that didn’t matter too much. There was a beautiful elven woman wearing little more than a bikini as she did something like aerial silk dancing and a bustier human redhead that was dancing nearest the stairs wearing little more than a slowly decreasing number of veils.

Lucas’s eyes glazed over each of them in turn and did not linger as he took in the place, though he noted the muscle he’d brought with him was more than a little distracted by the show. It was about what he’d expected. If anything, it was a little classier. The waitresses were dressed in a dazzling array of dresses and gowns that would make even Danaria’s expensive wardrobe green with envy, and there were a number of guards mixed in among the clientele.

It wasn’t hard to pick them out immediately. They might be dressed like noblemen, but their swelling physiques combined with the fact that they were the only ones with weapons in here made it clear who were the bruisers and who were the johns.

They didn’t stop on the second floor. Instead, they proceeded past the third, which was only an intersection of hallways that led to rooms in all directions to the fourth. The noises on the third floor made it clear that many of those rooms were already occupied and that, at least when it came to the Fallen Orchid, business was booming.

It was only there, on the fourth floor, that they left the stairs and moved to a door that was well guarded enough by men who wore black leather armor instead of nice clothes that it was obvious the boss lay behind the door.

"My mistress will see you now your man can wait out—," Azelea said

“My man can follow me right in,” Lucas corrected her. “No offense to you or yours, but you got all the muscle in the world, so I’m entitled to a little of my own.”

She frowned and said, “The Misstress wil be displeased by your lack of trust, but that shouldn’t be a problem.” with a slight bow before leaving him there to begin her own journey back down the stairs.

The men gave both of them a pat down and searched his case for anything obviously dangerous but let him through without much trouble, which was stupid if he thought about it. Not only did they not take their obvious weapons, but they didn’t take anything that might have been a disguised weapon either.

He was a drug dealer and an alchemist. He might have had anything in there posing as perfume, and even though he didn’t, it was still negligent as far as he was concerned.

The office was dominated by large floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a commanding view of the district, all the way out to the castle in the distance. Other than that, it was remarkably spare, almost zenlike. On one side there was a here was a simple bedroom that he could only glimpse beyond an elaborate dressing screen painted to resemble an elaborate flower garden, and on the other side, there was a large wooden desk in front of the far window, along with a single table in the center of the room with four chairs.

That was where he found Ms. Danica, seated in an elaborately embroidered silk robe, steeping a pot of tea. “Ah, Lucas, I’m so pleased you could make it,” she smiled, not bothering to rise as she ignored his bodyguard.

He gestured for the man to stand by the door, but it didn’t escape his notice that somewhere along the way, she’d picked up his first name. While that was enough to make him wonder what else she might have learned, it wasn’t enough to make him afraid. Like it or not, he was getting to be well known, and it was going to be impossible to put the genie back in that bottle.

“How lovely to see you again, too, Artesia,” he said with his most confident smile. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“You like it?” she smiled back in a lifeless way that made her look almost like a doll for a moment. “If any of the girls caught your eye, I could arrange for a private tour once our business is concluded.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he said, sitting down. Once he was seated, he opened the small case and started laying out the offerings he’d brought with him one at a time on the table between the two of them. “I’m just here to show you how you can make your girls a little prettier and make you some extra cash. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” she asked, pretending to be disappointed as she picked up one of the vials of perfume. “Pity.”

After that, Artesia poured him a cup of steaming tea in a porcelain teacup, which he thanked her for, even if he had zero intention of drinking. Once the formalities were out of the way, Lucas got to work explaining the benefits of the various things he had on the table in front of him.

“No cosmetics?” she asked, partway through the spiel. “Perfume and face cream are important, but if you aren’t selling magical lipstick, well… that’s almost as disappointing as your decision not to sell us your drug. It’s taken the city by storm, you know. We could have helped you with that.”

“As I seem to recall, your taster tried to pretend it was weak and barely worth taking,” Lucas responded, riposting her verbal thrust. “As to lipstick, that’s a work in progress. I—”

“It took Julania almost six weeks to get your poison out of her system, and I’m told she still craves it from time to time, all these months later,” Artesia retorted so quickly that it was like she almost expected that answer.

Before Lucas could figure out what to say next, she produced and rang a small silver bell. Before he could react and do more than turn his head, the doors to the room started to open.

Did this bitch just set me up? He wondered as he thought about what he would do if a bunch of armed men came running through that door.