Chapter 19: Confessions and Concessions

“Love is forged in the unlikeliest of places.”

-Ordynion, Imwean God of Pleasure, 98 B.U.

Stephan stepped inside his bar, tugging at the ill-fitting t-shirt he had been given. Despite his condemnation of the Revelers, the guards had seen fit to send him off with some measure of dignity by giving him a spare change of clothes.

There was a rush of footsteps down the stairs before the door had even swung shut behind him. Amaline came out of the back into the taproom. Her usually immaculate pink hair was slightly mussed, and she looked like she could burst into tears at any provocation.

“Thank the sun,” she gasped. “I thought you were missing, too.”

“I ran into some trouble, but I got myself out of it,” Stephan said. “I think. There might be more coming.”

“That sounds ominous,” Amaline said. “Are we gonna be okay?”

“We’ll be alright. Promise.”

Amaline pulled out a chair from one of the tables. “Here. Sit down, mister—you look exhausted. I’ll make you a drink.”

Stephan sat as instructed and wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. “Have you been practicing?”

“You bet. Eggy likes my drinks.” She sauntered behind the bar. “What’ll you have, boss?”

“An Arcana Twist, please. Eggy?”

“Aegur. He doesn’t like my nicknames, so I’m trying to get it all out of my system right now.” Amaline began preparing the cocktail, pulling down bottles. “Tell me what happened today. It must be a good story, considering you were gone for half a day and came home in someone else’s clothes.” Her face lit up. “Wait a minute… Boss, you didn’t!”

Stephan frowned. “Didn’t what?”

“Get laid!”

He snorted out a laugh. “No, nothing like that. I wish.”

“Then what happened?”

“Well, your former boss’s boss didn’t much like the fact that I offed his subordinate. So he brought me in for a chat.”

“Oh. That… sounds kinda bad. That’s Arqen, right? The big boss.”

Stephan shrugged. “Yeah, Arqen the Gentle. He lived up to his name, actually. Once I told him some of the devious shit Pontus got up to, he let me go without a scratch. Apparently I’ve got a nickname of my own, these days. The Gentleman. How do you like that one?”

Amaline poured the vodka, blackberry juice, and lemon liqueur into a cocktail glass and added a handful of blackberry gummies on top. “It’s kinda cute. Suits you, boss. You’ve always been a real gentleman to me, I know that much.” She brought over the drink and placed it in front of Stephan. “Ta-daaa. Taste it.”

Stephan brought the cocktail to his lips and sipped gingerly. The immediate sweetness was quickly replaced by a surprising bitterness that lingered on the tongue. He frowned deeply at the purplish liquid.

“Are you sure you got the ingredients right?” he asked.

“Two parts vodka, one part blackberry juice, one part lemon stuff.”

“It should be one part vodka.”

Amaline crossed her arms under her bosom and pouted. “Dang it… Oh, well, I’ll remember next time. By the way, you said something about how we might still be in trouble. What’s that about?”

“Well, Arqen warned me that the other gangs might be after me. Apparently, I made a bit too big of a splash. I got the word out about offing Pontus to keep people off our backs, but it seems like it just made me a bigger target for the other gangs. Speaking of which, do you know anything about them? I don't know any apart from the Revelers.”

Amaline pulled out a chair opposite Stephan and sat. She leaned back and twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “Hmm, let’s see… I don’t really know much, only what I picked up from working under Pontus. Who to avoid, whose turf to stay out of, that kind of thing.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“As far as I know, there are three major gangs in Tumba. There’s the Revelers, like you said. They own most of the whore houses, and they also do a lot of gun-running. Sometimes they even had us girls help out with that, sorting ammunition and the like. It sucked, because it got my hands all greasy.

“Then there’s the Masks. They’re kinda crazy, from what I’ve heard. They run entertainment—powerbrawl, gambling parlors, that kinda thing. I hear they can get really violent about their territory. Like rabid dogs or something. We were told never to cross them. We weren’t supposed to seek them out as clients, but we weren’t allowed to refuse them, either. They’re easy to spot ‘cause of their white masks. Hence the name.

“Lastly, there’s the Outlaw Clan. They’re a sneaky bunch. They run trade, but they’re supposedly also responsible for a bunch of killings. I think they’re mostly lubbards. They kept to themselves more often than not, and they were smarter than letting their people hang out with hookers like us, so we never really had to bother with them.”

“That’s actually really helpful, thanks,” Stephan said, taking mental notes.

The Revelers were off his plate for now, but if the Masks and the Outlaw Clan were taking an interest, he had to be prepared. He wouldn’t be caught with his pants down a second time.

“Did you expect anything less from my fine self?” Amaline asked. She snapped her fingers. “Ah! I have something for you. I found this while you were gone.” She plucked a folded-up note out of her deep cleavage and handed it to him. “I read it, but I can’t tell if it’s good news or bad. I’ll let you be the judge.”

Stephan unfolded the note. He immediately recognized Yin’s scratchy, wavering handwriting scrawled across the page.

Dad,

I’m sorry for leaving. I’ll be back soon, I promise. Once I finished what I’ve started. I don’t want you to worry, and I don’t want you to come looking. Just let me do this, okay?

-Yin.

He sighed and folded the note back up, sliding it away from him across the table. “At least we know she’s safe.”

“She mentioned finishing something,” Amaline said. “Do you know what it might be?”

“I have a few ideas, but nothing concrete.”

“What do we do? Wait for her to come back, like she said?”

“No way. I’m going to track her down. If for no other reason than to back her up if she’s in danger.”

“How will we do that?”

“I don’t know yet. Tumba’s a big place—we’ve got a lot of area to cover. For now, I’ll just keep looking.”

Amaline nodded slowly. “Got it, boss. Eggy and I will do the same.”

“You don’t need to—”

Amaline held up a finger. “Shh. You were about to say something stupid. Best keep that to yourself.”

Stephan chuckled. “Alright.”

They were quiet for a while. Stephan kept sipping at his Arcana Twist. It was a little stronger than it should have been, but it was good once he got used to it. Given the messy turn his life had taken, he could use the extra edge. It took him a minute, but he eventually noticed the inherent strangeness of a quiet Amaline. That was very unlike her.

“Is something the matter?” he asked, chewing on a gummy.

Amaline looked up from the table. “No! Well…” She blushed. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about. It’s kind of embarrassing. And weird. And unprofessional. Is that okay?”

Stephan dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. “Go ahead. Let’s hear it.”

Amaline put her head in her hands, enhanced breasts resting on the tabletop. “I feel super confused. Like my heart’s on a seesaw. You ever been on a seesaw, boss?”

“No, but I get the picture.”

“So, anyway. I thought I’d be your employee and nothing else, and I was okay with that. You’re not my usual type, so I assumed it would be easy. But, here I am. Confused. Yeah.”

Stephan cleared his throat. “Right… I’m sensing where this is going.”

Amaline fixed him with her big, earnest, pink eyes. “We’ve barely known each other a week, but you’ve been nicer to me than anyone in my entire life. I don’t know what to do with that. You’re my boss, and I like to think that you’re my friend, too, but…” She bit her lip. “I’m wondering if you’re something else, too.”

“I’m not,” Stephan said firmly.

Amaline blinked. “But…”

“I am your friend, Amaline. That much you’re right on. But we’re nothing more. Don’t take it the wrong way—you’re very beautiful—but you’re not exactly my type, either. Besides, my mind is still caught on someone else.”

He closed his eyes briefly, and saw Taira before him. The way they’d been. In bed together. Laughing over silly things.

“Oh,” Amaline said. She hugged herself tight. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever been rejected before.”

“I’m sorry,” Stephan said with a slight nod. “I just have to be honest.”

“No, it’s…” Amaline shook her head, eyes welling with tears. “It feels good, actually. I know that’s such a weird thing to say, but there it is.” She wiped her eyes, but more tears pushed through and rolled down her cheeks. “I’m so happy you said that to me.”

Stephan wasn’t sure what he’d done to make her so happy, but he put on a sympathetic smile and nodded. “Glad to be of help, I guess?”

“Every guy I’ve gotten close to has only been after one thing,” Amaline continued. “Even before I became a whore, and got all this work done to my body, it’s been like that. They wanted me for sex. Once they got it, half of them would leave. The other half thought they could boss me around, and would make my life hell until I left. It’s always had me second-guessing myself. If anyone can even see me at all, or if they just see what they want from me.”

“Ah. I understand now. That must be awful for you.”

“It’s not the best. But I’m glad that I have you, boss. You’re a good friend.”

She reached her hand across the table. Stephan took it. They were quiet. This time, he didn’t think it was odd.