Chapter 517: DEEP THOUGHTS
The laughter of men still drifted faintly through the corridors below, mingling with the clatter of goblets and drunken boasts, but Amara’s attention was fixed wholly on the balcony where Cherry had just disappeared. Her breath came quick and shallow, as though she herself had been part of the heated spectacle, though she had only been a witness, an intruder of sorts, but one Cherry had allowed.
Allowed.
That thought alone sent a shiver crawling down Amara’s spine.
Cherry had known she was there, watching, listening, learning.
Every moan, every declaration, every flare of temper between the two women, it had all been for her benefit, hadn’t it? A performance. A test.
Amara pressed a hand to her lips, her body thrumming with something she could not name.
Fear? Thrill? Desire? Or was it simply the intoxicating realization that she had been noticed by Cherry, not as a child, not as one of Candy’s nameless girls, but as someone worthy of a secret.
She lingered in the shadowed corridor, where the torchlight carved deep golden pools against the wall.
Below her bare feet, the stones felt cold and grounding, a reminder to steady herself. Cherry was dangerous, there was no questioning that.
The way she had spoken of the crown, of her sister, of vengeance... her hunger was bottomless, a void that swallowed everything in its path.
But Amara was not naïve. She had seen enough of the world in her seventeen years to know that those who held power never shared it willingly.
Candy had taught her that much, even when she thought she was hiding it behind perfume and silks.
Amara leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. She could still hear Cherry’s words echoing inside her: The crown is everything to me.
For most, that kind of hunger would be terrifying. For Amara, it was familiar.
Because she, too, wanted something.
Not the crown, at least not yet. But she wanted more than to be paraded in Candy’s silken cages, more than to be auctioned off to the highest bidder or saved for Cherry’s schemes.
She wanted her name whispered with fear and reverence, the way Cherry’s was. She wanted men and women alike to tremble at her presence, to bow their heads when she passed.
And if Cherry thought she could use her, then Amara would use Cherry in return.
She opened her eyes slowly, watching the place where the curtains still swayed faintly from Cherry’s departure. A smile tugged at her lips, small but sharp.
Cherry had underestimated her. Everyone did. That was their mistake.
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The night stretched on, and the sounds of pleasure and revelry gave way to the quiet hum of nocturnal insects. Amara returned to her quarters, though sleep never came to her. She sat by the window, staring out at the dim courtyard below, where shadows of guards shifted back and forth like restless ghosts.
Her thoughts were fire, too bright and wild to extinguish.
Candy had spoken of selling the whorehouse, of dispersing the girls, of running away with Cherry. Amara scoffed softly at the memory. How foolish Candy could be, even after all these years.
Love, devotion, those were shackles disguised as ribbons.
Candy had let herself be bound, and though she pretended to hold power over her girls, Amara knew the truth: Candy was as much a prisoner as any of them.
But Cherry was different.
Cherry would never bow. She would never surrender. And that made her both a threat and an opportunity.
Amara traced a finger along the sill, drawing invisible patterns. She imagined herself beside Cherry, not as a pawn, not as a tool, but as an equal.
Someone she could not discard so easily. Someone she needed.
How to get there? That was the question.
Amara bit her lower lip. The answer came quickly: prove herself. Show Cherry that she was more than beauty and youth. Show her cunning. Show her teeth.
If Cherry wanted her as a spy, she would spy. If Cherry wanted her to betray, she would betray. But each act would not just serve Cherry, it would serve Amara, too. Information was power, and Amara would collect it piece by piece until her hands were overflowing.
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A soft knock startled her from her reverie. She stiffened, glancing toward the door.
"Amara?" It was one of Candy’s girls, her voice hushed. "Are you awake?"
Amara rose and cracked the door open, her face neutral. The girl’s eyes darted nervously down the hall.
"Candy wants to see you," she whispered. "Now."
Amara’s stomach twisted. For a heartbeat, she wondered if Candy knew she had been spying on her, watching her private entanglement with Cherry. But then she remembered Cherry’s eyes, sharp, knowing, deliberately allowing.
If Candy knew, it was because Cherry had chosen for her to know.
Amara followed the girl down the narrow hall, her bare feet silent against the wooden floor. They stopped at Candy’s chamber door, and the girl scurried off, leaving Amara alone.
She entered slowly.
Candy sat before her mirror, brushing her hair with long, measured strokes.
Her face in the reflection looked tired, the faintest cracks of age beginning to show around her eyes despite the rouge and powder she wore.
The room still smelled of her and Cherry, thick with perfume and sweat, almost suffocating.
"Sit," Candy said without looking at her.
Amara obeyed, perching on the edge of the bed.
For a long while, the only sound was the rasp of the brush through Candy’s hair. Then Candy finally spoke, her voice low and unreadable.
"You saw."
Amara said nothing.
Candy’s gaze met hers in the mirror, sharp as a blade. "Don’t pretend. You were there. Cherry wanted you there."
Amara’s pulse quickened, but she kept her face smooth. "If that is what Cherry wished."
Candy turned then, setting the brush aside. "Cherry is dangerous, Amara. More dangerous than you realize. She will use you, and when she’s done, she will discard you."
Amara tilted her head, feigning innocence. "And you wouldn’t?"
Candy flinched, the corner of her mouth twitching. Then she sighed, shoulders sagging as if weighed down by invisible chains. "You’re clever," she admitted. "Clever enough to survive her. But clever girls like you are the ones who end up broken if they aren’t careful."
Amara leaned forward, her eyes glinting. "Or the ones who end up on top."
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Candy studied her, perhaps trying to find some remnant of the girl she had once tucked into silks and jewels, the girl she had tried to protect, or perhaps to own.
But that girl was gone, burned away by ambition.
Finally, Candy shook her head. "If you go down this path, there’s no turning back."
Amara smiled faintly, rising to her feet. "I never intended to turn back."