The Changing of the Seasons

"Yes, but I usually try to let her win!" I reply, laughing. "I want to stay on her good side!"

"Oh, come on, you know you're her favorite. Anyway, I'm going to take a bath. I'll meet you downstairs later." She rises and departs. I sigh, looking out my barred window at the melting slush on Laralia's streets. Since I've been here, late summer has given way to autumn, then to a harsh winter (Theras is famous for its winter snows) and now to spring, the season of rebirth and renewal.

I can scarcely believe six whole months have passed. It seems like only yesterday. The friends I've made, Moula in particular, have helped me pass the time during the days. The nights....I do what I must, and try not to think about it too much afterwards.

Of course, I have a constant reminder of the passage of time in the form of my progressing pregnancy. I'm almost full term now, and a few months back a short, loose-fitting dress replaced the usual lingere ensemble to help disguise my growing midsection. I long ago ceased wearing the high heels, my swollen feet simply not permitting it.

The other girls have been very supportive. Most assumed I was a prostitute elsewhere before coming here, and never questioned me. Only Moula knows the truth of it. Pregnancies are rare here in the brothel; most of the girls get around the issue by drinking an herbal concotion prepared by Madam Scarlet. The elixir (as the girls call it) contains tansy and pennyroyal, which I know to be poisonous in large doses. Moula tells me it tastes awful, and sometimes makes the girls sick. I shudder thinking that I'll have to start drinking it soon enough.

The baby stirs within me, and I feel a wave of regret, as I do almost daily. I haven't seen that bastard Gustav since he sent me here, but I remember well his final words to me: namely that my child will be taken from me once he or she is born.[3193] I don't want that to happen. Part of me knows, of course, that I can't care for a child here in the brothel, and by now I've given up all hope of escape. Still, I won't just let them take my baby away from me. I'll think of something. I must.

Later that day, as Moula and I sit working on our makeup (I'm good enough at it to do it on my own by now) she turns to me and says "I see you're wearing the good lipstick." I nod, knowing what's coming next. "Sir John's coming tonight, isnt he?" she says in a teasing, singsong voice.

We share a quick grin. "Sir John**" is her nickname for Sir John Van Alder, my number one 'client', as they diplomatically call them here. Every Saturday night for the past four months he has requested my services, and occasionally during the week as well. It was obvious from the start that he was quite taken with me, and even tried to purchase my freedom from Madam Scarlet once. A request that was of course denied.

He is apparently an unmarried, disgraced ex-knight (the "Sir" honorific no longer applying in reality, though he still uses it) who now works as a mercenary. Of course, for all I know he could be lying about his marital status. Most of the other punters are wealthy, married businessmen, who come here to fulfill desires they're not getting met at home. Still, he's wealthy enough to come here, and is not unattractive. He could probably get all the girls he could handle without paying a dime. So I often wonder why he pays a small fortune to Madam Scarlet just for me. He wasn't even dissuaded by my developing pregnancy, as some of my other regulars were. It's confusing, causing an uncomfortable mixture of emotions to well up inside me. Still, I will not, I dare not, treat him as anything more than just another customer. Romantic attachments to clients are strictly taboo.

Moula and I finish our preparations and head out to the main room.

*Dutch/Polish for backgammon

** "John", of course, being the American slang for a punter. NOT be misconstrued as a reference to my esteemed co- author. ;-)

1. As usual, John's waiting for me.
2. John's waiting for me. This time, he's with a friend; a fellow mercenary with whom he's been working of late. But I need no introduction: It's Teran! [last seen way back in 2470] Fortunatley, he dosen't recognize me right away.
3. John's waiting for me. This time, he's with a friend; a knight with whom he's been working of late. But I need no introduction: It's Don! He recognizes me instantly, and is dismayed. But, what's HE doing here? He's supposed to be happily married by now!

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