“It is completely up to you, darling,” the madam, Queen of the Virtues, declared with a flutter of her fine fan.

Lydia, the courtesan known as the Virtue of Beauty, re-examined the letter in her hands. The penmanship was elegant with the sweeping letters the nobility used. The quality of the paper also spoke volumes of the sender: not just money, but influence as well to get such fine grain. Yet, there was no embossment on the page declaring from which House it came.

Very curious.

Lydia lifted it closer to her nose and took a breath in. Hints of cedarwood. A fairly popular if common scent favored by men of the capital city. No real hint there.

It was all very intriguing.

“Ten thousand marks,” she said out loud, looking over the enclosed amount listed in the brief letter. “That is an exorbitant sum for one night’s company.”

“Indeed. I am almost tempted to take the offer myself,” the Queen of Virtues said, arching an eyebrow at it. “But the letter stipulated it was for the Virtue of Beauty specifically.”

Lydia nodded, noting that. Her reputation had been gaining traction over the past year. This letter was just another sign of her accomplishment in the Crimson Court of the Capital City. She looked over the additionally enclosed conditions on the second page of the letter. “I am not to see his face at any time?” She hesitated.

“Speak your thoughts frankly, my dear,” the Queen urged.

Lydia blinked at the letter, trying to process those requested thoughts. “Well, it will certainly make some activities … a challenge. But I suppose I do spend much of the time with my eyes closed.”

“It is also stated that you are not to speak to anyone except your patron,” the Queen confirmed.

“That is easily done, but do you have any notion why the great secrecy?” Lydia asked as she set down the letter on the small table between them, safe within the Queen of Virtue’s private boudoir.

“I have my theories, yes, but I would keep my own counsel on them.”

Lydia understood the reasoning behind that. The clientele the Crimson Court attracted were often members of the actual Imperial Court. Even idle gossip could have dangerous implications. It left Lydia with her own speculations of whom this mysterious client could be. Possibly a cabinet minister or someone under great public scrutiny. All clients enjoyed discretion, many of them had official spouses and in-laws to consider. But this letter hinted at something more. She supposed it was possible the client was sickly or dying, and it was a last wish. She had given such comforts before. Lydia found those clients rather sweet.

“This decision is yours alone, of course,” the madam added, neutrally.

“I would be honored to be of comfort,” Lydia said after a moment more consideration.

“Beautifully answered.” Then the older woman smiled. “I think I named you well, my dear.”

“All of your Virtues are beautiful,” Lydia answered graciously.

The Queen of Virtues, Georgiana, snapped her fan closed to give Lydia a reproachful expression. She was still elegant with a mature beauty in her own right. It was rumored amongst the other courtesans that her last patron had been the late Emperor himself, and after his passing, she refused to take another because of her broken heart. It presented like a beautiful fantasy, but Lydia felt sure if the rumor were true, a sizable trust would have been bequeathed to the Queen of Virtues: more than enough to retire, giving Georgiana more comfort than could any memories of love for the rest of her days.

Elegantly, the Virtue of Beauty bowed her head at the madam’s reproach. “Forgive me, Madame. I’m not sure what I said, but if it offended you, I am the soul of regret.”

Georgiana’s face continued its imperious stony expression for a few seconds more before it broke into a warm, motherly grin. “Oh, Lydia, my darling. The embodiment of a Virtue is more than simply a pretty face.” She set her fan in her lap and extended a hand toward the nearby tea set to perfectly pour two cups with exacting elegance. Lydia focused on her movements, enthralled by the older courtesan’s artistry.

“You are my Beauty because of your manner and heart. Despite the darkness you have endured in the Night and the world you have found yourself in, you have not let it touch you or bring your spirit down. It is a divine gift you have, for you remain beautiful to everyone who is fortunate to encounter you.”

Lydia nodded her head, acknowledging the compliment with the grace she had been taught.

Georgiana sighed. “My dearest hope for you, my dear, is to see you with a wealthy patron who will treat you with the honor and respect that you deserve.” The Queen held out the prepared cup of tea to her Beauty with a steady hand, having dressed it exactly how Lydia liked it without asking: heavy and dark with a dollop of honey. Lydia received it graciously, smoothly taking it without a drop escaping the cup. “I know my girls talk amongst themselves. I like the mystery, but I wish to confirm something to you and only you. Can you keep my secret?”

Lydia understood the request for the test it was. One aspect of a courtesan’s role is to hold the secrets of their patrons, not only as lovers but also as companions and sometimes confessors. A courtesan’s honor was tied to holding such secrets in trust, and the greatest gift a courtesan could bestow on another was to impart a secret of their own. Her heart sped up at the request.

“Yes, Madame,” she said, barely containing her excitement under her façade of grace.

The Queen of Virtues smiled knowingly and took a sip from her own cup, drawing out the suspense for her listener. “I was indeed the courtesan to the late Emperor.”

Now Lydia failed to contain her delighted smile, and her chagrin at having guessed wrong. “I knew it,” she said jubilantly instead, and both women laughed.

“Yes, but I tell you this secret not just for your gratification, or the bragging rights of a past conquest. I tell you this because I want to stress…” Now the older woman hesitated, licking her lips a moment as she searched for words. The fact that she deliberated made Lydia sit up and pay even closer attention, for the Queen was never one to be at a loss for words.

“Love … is not forbidden to us,” she finally said, taking the younger woman much by surprise. “I wish you to remember that.”

Lydia’s eyes went wide at the implication. “You loved the Emperor?”

A wistful, happy sadness washed over the older woman’s face. “And he loved me.”

And Lydia understood what the true secret was that the Queen imparted.

Georgiana set down her teacup and held out her hands to Lydia, which she followed suit and took. “I love you like one of my own daughters, child. Truly. And I wish to see you happy and secure. I am not saying that this commission tonight will be that person for you, but I want you to keep your mind open to the possibility of your future with someone who will make you happy.”

“A patron is security,” Lydia said, a bit confused by what her Queen was saying. “I mean no disrespect, Madame, but we are courtesans.” Lydia had seen too many times how such notions of love were poison to the mind. They lived in a world where favors were exchanged for money, and to be fooled into believing anything more could arise from that was dangerous. Love was a sad fairy tale for little girls who had to grow up too soon, and it was the first story to die.

Her incredulity was not lost on the Queen of Virtues. She withdrew back behind her mask and nodded to the request letter on the table. “If you are taking the commission, a carriage will arrive for you tonight by the fourth bell. You should prepare. I will send your reply back this hour.”

“I am more than eager to take it, Madame. Thank you,” Lydia said, looking over the offer one more time. It did not yield more details, but it only whetted her curiosity more.

“Naturally, your safety is guaranteed,” the Queen of Virtues said, fluttering her fan once more toward her face.

“Naturally,” Lydia acknowledged. It was the reason she had joined the Queen of Virtue’s Crimson Court, for the protection it afforded. No one of the Imperial Court would dare cross the Queen by harming one of her girls. To do so would spell their own disgrace above, and every client welcomed in the Crimson Court was taught that lesson early and clearly, or was not invited at all.

The Beauty of the Virtues stood and nodded to her Queen. “Thank you, Mother,” she said as she bobbed a curtsy then hurried off, her mind reeling with delight at the interesting mystery that awaited her that night.