What a pain in the ass.
“It’s on the corner up here. The three-story building with the purple trim,” Vale said, digging another taffy out of her bag.
It was on the tip of his tongue to remind Vale that nearly every building had purple trim, but he swallowed down the words. There was no point in arguing any longer. Once this meeting was done, they’d either be in to see Yash or they’d be heading to the hotel, where Eno and Caelan would be waiting for them.
As they neared the building, Drayce lifted his eyes to inspect the place. It was certainly less rowdy than the brothels had been last night. But then, all of Temit seemed to be getting a late start after the previous revelry. The shades were pulled over most of the windows against the early-afternoon light, as if everyone were sleeping off the drink and excitement.
In truth, Drayce wasn’t sure he’d recognize the place as a brothel if Vale hadn’t said it was. The building looked very much like all the others with its black and purple paint. There were flowers and birds painted on one side in a beautiful mural. The windows on the first floor had the curtains pulled back to allow the bright sunlight inside. A small patio in front of the building had several iron tables and chairs placed to allow people to lounge about, but they were currently empty.
All in all, Drayce was disappointed to find the place was neither seedy nor disreputable despite the fact that a smuggler was working out of it. He could have brought Cael along for laughs. Just the idea of the King of Erya being caught in a brothel had Drayce grinning at last. Yes, that would make Rayne snap and commit murder, though for that one, it would likely be Rayne killing Drayce and not Vale.
“Do I even want to know what you’re grinning about?” Rayne inquired in a long-suffering tone.
“Nope, definitely not.”
Rayne lifted one arched eyebrow and narrowed his eyes. “You’re thinking about bringing Caelan to a brothel, aren’t you?”
Drayce pointed a finger at Rayne, barely resisting the temptation to tap the tip of his nose. “You need to stop that. Only Cael is allowed to read minds.”
The eyebrow dropped, but Rayne’s lips twitched in what Drayce was willing to bet was the beginning of a smile he’d just barely managed to stop. The advisor quickly covered it up by starting toward the double doors. “Let’s get this done. The sooner we finish here, the sooner we can meet up with Caelan and Eno.”
The interior of the brothel was just as nice as the exterior with wide-open spaces, brightly painted walls that were covered in works of art, and the faintest hint of a cinnamon-like incense floating on the air. To the immediate left was a front-desk setup similar to a hotel and beyond was a grand lobby with a variety of sofas, chairs, and other bits of comfortable furniture that Drayce had no idea what the proper names were. Maybe a fainting couch. A divan.
One woman was working the front desk and appearing thoroughly bored about it as she chewed on a pencil while tinkering with a puzzle. In the lobby, a scattering of fewer than a half dozen people lounged about, sipping drinks and chatting. At least no one was actually having sex in the open. Drayce wasn’t the type to consider himself a prude, but that was a person’s private business that he didn’t want to see.
Vale casually led them through the lobby to a connecting bar. The lighting was dimmer in here and the scent of alcohol overwhelmed any incense that hung in the air. While the tables were more closely packed, the place still managed to have an open feel to it. More people were hanging out in the bar, drinking and playing games as they talked over this and that.
They followed Vale over to the bar, where she leaned against the shining wood surface and waited for the shirtless bartender to saunter over. The conversation was quick and Drayce didn’t understand a word of it, but after some huffs and grunts and a rude gesture on Vale’s part, they were directed to a booth in the back corner, where the shadows were the deepest.
Dark shadows, private booth, shady characters. Yep, this felt more in line with what Drayce had been expecting when it came to meeting with a smuggler. He smiled to himself as they followed the directions of the bartender.
When they reached the booth, they were greeted by an older woman with black hair that was lightly threaded with silver strands. She looked each of them over with cold eyes before snorting softly.
“Magar isn’t interested,” she muttered in heavily accented Erya. Clearly, she’d heard they were coming and where they were from.