"Hello ladies! Today is my first cocktail-hosting event and I'm so glad that y'all showed up to honor my invitation. I hope you have fun and enjoy the party—thank you!"
A few ladies exchanged looks, raising their brows subtly as some sipped their drinks with forced smiles.
"She is so annoying," Olivia whispered behind her fan, voice dripping with disdain. "She invited the whole courtesan house to a party that was meant for the noble ladies."
"Olivia!"
"What?" she asked sharply, turning to her friend with narrowed eyes.
"Whenever the regular courtesans host an event, they always invite the noble courtesans. Why is it different with y'all?"
Olivia scoffed, rolling her eyes. "It's their honor that the noble courtesans attend their event. We are gracing them with our presence."
"Really?" Harper said while walking towards them
"Yes, dear Blue," Olivia said with a sarcastic smirk, tilting her glass. "Next time, invite only the noble ladies. Not rats and mice."
The jab hung heavy in the air.
"Remember," another voice cut in with warning in her tone, "that you might return to being a regular courtesan someday. Not getting invited to a certain event will hurt you badly."
"Are you wishing me bad?" Olivia snapped, her smile turning venomous. "I will always remain a noble courtesan—as I have always been."
"Well, let's see." Harper smirked and raised her glass. "Cheers!" she said coldly and walked away with a sway in her hips.
"That bitch," Olivia hissed through clenched teeth.
"Calm down, Olivia," someone said cautiously.
"She's getting on my nerves! She even invited Daisy!" Olivia snapped.
A figure nearby stiffened. "What? I'm not supposed to be here or something?" Daisy said, stepping forward with her head held high. "I am a noble courtesan."
"Not anymore, idiot," Olivia said, crossing her arms. "You can't keep Quincy, even after sleeping with him. Are you that useless?"
"Olivia!"
"A boyish girl took a man away from you in just one night," Olivia continued harshly. "She was even a novice who couldn't satisfy a man."
The crowd gasped, eyes flickering around in shock and discomfort.
"Did y'all hear that Quincy has never visited her since she got registered as a courtesan?"
"Really?" another lady asked, leaning in with intrigue.
"Do you guys think that he is tired of her already?"
"Just like that?" someone whispered. "How can someone pay a whole fortune for a woman and get tired of her?"
"That money means nothing to Quincy," another scoffed. "They can't even record their wealth."
"Let's see! If she runs out of favor, then it'll be easier to deal with her."
A sudden scream tore through the hall, high and sharp.
"Ahhh!"
Everyone's heads snapped in the direction of the noise.
"Is that Angel?"
"Guess she is," Violet said, already moving. The ladies rushed down to check. They found Celine holding Angel tightly, sobbing. Angel was gasping for breath, her body breaking out in red spots.
"What the hell happened to her?" someone asked, panicked.
"She's having a reaction," Celine cried.
"Did she take something bad?"
"She ate this icebox cake and started having a reaction."
"What's that?" Harper came over, peering at the plate. She gasped. "What the hell?"
"It was you!" Celine shouted, pointing a shaky finger. "You gave her something bad to eat!"
"I did? I didn't prepare the food," Harper said defensively. "How could I have given her something bad?"
"It's your event! You oversaw everything—from the food to the desserts and drinks."
Harper picked up the cake and brought it close to her face. The scent hit her, and she immediately turned her head and sneezed hard.
"What the hell! This is a cinnamon cake."
"A cinnamon cake?!" someone shouted. "Angel doesn't eat cinnamon! We always take it off the menu if there's a general gathering. Why did you put cinnamon on the menu, Blue?"
"I didn't!" Harper said, panicked. "I'm allergic to cinnamon too!"
"Really? But it's there, baby girl."
"What's going on here?"
Everyone turned. Madam Fransisca had entered, her presence commanding silence.
"Madam Fransisca! It's this girl!" Celine shouted. "She's trying to kill Angel! She put cinnamon on the menu!"
"Did you put cinnamon cake on the menu?" Fransisca asked coldly.
"I didn't, madam. I can't take cinnamon either. Why would I put it on the menu?"
"You oversee the event, Blue. This is your party, and we have rules."
"I didn't, madam!"
"You definitely did!" Celine cried. "You're so evil! I told you myself that Angel doesn't take cinnamon, but you refused to take it off the menu because you wanted her killed! You're jealous of her!"
"When did you tell me all this, Celine?" Harper's voice trembled. "Why are you lying?"
"I know the kind of person you are. You've been jealous of Angel since the time you were serving her. You can't stand the fact she's the best courtesan! You're already a courtesan—why do you need to kill her?"
"Celine, watch your mouth!" another voice snapped. "You're talking to a noble courtesan. You can't disrespect her."
"She tried to kill my courtesan!"
"Shut up!" Fransisca barked. "Jesse, call the doctor to come check on Angel."
"Yes, madam."
"Madam, what are you going to do with Blue?" Celine pressed. "She broke the rules and harmed a courtesan."
"It wasn't intentional," someone muttered.
"She still harmed a courtesan! She needs to get punished!"
"Yes, madam—punish her!"
Fransisca folded her hand into a tight fist, her gaze locked on Angel who lay gasping on the floor. Harper stared at Angel, her eyes blurry with unshed tears.
"Harming a courtesan is a big sin. You have to undergo punishment."
"But I'm innocent, madam…"
"Kneel down in front of the courtesan house for twelve hours and repent."
"Madam! That is too lenient! She almost killed Angel!"
"It's an allergy issue—it's not intentional. The punishment is already severe enough. I'm leaving now," Fransisca said firmly and turned away, exiting the hall.
Blue collapsed to her knees, trembling, her gaze lifting slowly to Angel—who, through the pain, managed to flash her a wicked, knowing smile.
"Come out of the courtesan hall, Blue!"
Her footsteps echoed faintly through the hallway. She walked slowly, head slightly lowered. No words left her lips as she entered her suite and closed the door behind her.
She moved toward the mirror and sat down quietly. It was a large, luxurious room with a queen-sized bed, velvet drapes, and a soft blue hue accented with pure white. Everything about it screamed royalty—but tonight, none of it comforted her.
She stared at herself in the mirror and smiled sadly, almost mockingly, at her own reflection. Her fingers trembled slightly as she stood up and began removing her jewelry, one piece at a time. Her necklace. Her earrings. The last hairpin.
The door creaked softly. Freya stepped in silently, holding a silver and blue robe. She didn't speak. She just walked over and draped it carefully over Blue's shoulders, smoothing it out. Blue looked bare, vulnerable—natural. Like someone who just wanted to curl up in bed and forget the world existed.
"Let's go."
Blue didn't answer. She simply nodded and walked out of the room.
The hallway outside had changed. Whispering shadows gathered. Some courtesans stood in corners, peeking at her like vultures, but the moment she stepped out, they looked away quickly, feigning disinterest. She ignored them and walked forward, holding her head high despite the ache in her chest.
She headed for the elevator—but a firm hand yanked her back.
"Hey, Blue! You are about to undergo a punishment. You can't take the elevator—you walk."
She turned slowly. Her eyes landed on Olivia, who stood smirking with arms crossed.
"I should take the stairs down to the 8th floor?" she asked flatly.
"Sure!"
Blue glared at Olivia, then spun on her heels without another word.
She descended the stairs, each step echoing her rising frustration. By the time she got to the ground floor, Jesse was already waiting for her.
"You will kneel in front of the courtesan house."
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Then every client that comes in will be seeing me? Is that it?"
"Blue, it's a punishment. They all know what it is. They can't criticize you."
"But criticize my companion!"
Jesse sighed. "Well… it might happen that way. Next time, don't get trapped in their petty tricks."
"Most definitely," she muttered through clenched teeth, brushing past her.
She stepped outside. The night air slapped her in the face. The cold was nothing compared to the burn of humiliation. She knelt on the hard floor and faced the grand courtesan house, its elegant glow mocking her misery.
Almost immediately, Freya and Sage rushed to her side and tried to support her.
"It's fine. You guys can go."
"No! We are your escort. We need to stay with you."
"If something happens to me, then who will take care of me?"
"Blue—"
"Just go. Watch the house."
Freya's lips trembled. "I can't believe that Angel would take something that can kill her just to implicate you."
"If it gets you what you want," Harper said with quiet rage, "then it's definitely worth the risk. She just ruined my reputation in the courtesan house. I'll be mocked for a while."
"If there's another buzzing topic, they'll forget about this."
"It's a whole 12 hours of humiliation. I can stand the pain, but not the insult. I'm embarrassing Quincy too."
Sage narrowed her eyes. "Should we go watch her? Maybe she's pretending."
"She is not," Harper snapped. "She planned this well enough. But Angel doesn't know how petty I am. If you do me one, I do you ten. If you go low, I go lower."
Freya's voice dropped. "What do you plan to do?"
"You guys should go and wait for me."
"Alright, Blue. We'll stay far away."
"Okay."
People began arriving. One by one, they passed her. Some paused. Some whispered. Most just stared. Harper kept her head bowed, her body stiff from kneeling. She clenched her jaw.
"Everyone's looking at me like I'm a freak show," she muttered. "I thought important people would mind their business… not knowing everyone loves gossip and gists as well." She let out a bitter breath. "This is crazy!" She adjusted her robe roughly. "I have to kneel down for 12 hours because of Angel? Angel?!"
Inside the house, laughter floated.
"Angel, how do you feel?"
"Good! I only took a little—it's not that severe."
"That's great."
"How is that little bitch?"
"She is under punishment for 12 hours."
"How is she holding up?"
"She is holding up well."
"I guess they're feeding her well."
"She rejects the food given to her."
Angel scoffed. "Why would she even eat out there? She is not crazy! She can stand the pain because she was trained on the field, but she can't stand the humiliation that I'm giving her right now." Angel burst into laughter. "I'm sure Quincy will cancel her and replace her with another girl tomorrow."
"He will, for sure."
"Let's go and visit our little flower girl."
"Yes, Angel!"
Angel dressed up with smug satisfaction and went downstairs. She stepped out of the house, her heels clicking with confidence. The moment she saw Harper kneeling there, struggling to keep her posture, she couldn't contain her glee.
"Yah! Isn't this the precious flower of the courtesan house?" Angel called out mockingly. "Why are you kneeling down there?"
"You are fine now?"
"Of course I am! Did you expect me to die there?"
"I wish," Harper said, smirking.
"Bad thing your wish didn't come through. I can't die that easily, Harper. You can't even do nothing to me."
"You think I can't do nothing to you?"
"Well, what can you do? You can't beat me up. You can only make mouth right there."
Harper's expression darkened. "You really underestimated me, Angel. I am being easy on you—but that is over."
"You? Being easy on me?" Angel stepped closer and slapped her across the face.
Harper's head whipped to the side. Her jaw tightened.
"Angel!"
"Touch me! Touch me and see what will happen to you."
Harper's eyes glimmered with restrained fury. "I hope you will remember this day, Angel."
"Definitely! Who will forget your face right now?" Angel tossed her hair. "I need my beauty sleep, dear Blue. Do not die of cold, okay? Bye!"
She turned and walked back inside, laughing, leaving Harper kneeling, trembling, holding the hem of her robe in both hands.
"You will regret this, Angel!"
Harper had been kneeling for several hours. Her robe was soaked through, clinging tightly to her frame, her drenched hair plastered to her face and neck. The once-elegant silver and blue now looked dull and heavy under the relentless downpour. Her lips trembled, and her shoulders sagged forward. She could barely feel her legs anymore. Raindrops pelted her skin like sharp needles.
Inside, behind a tall window veiled with sheer curtains, Madam Fransisca stood stiffly with her arms folded across her chest. Her eyes were dark with fury, fists clenched at her sides as she stared at the kneeling figure below.
"That damn Angel!" she muttered, her voice strained with suppressed rage.
Jesse behind her, her tone filled with concern, asked hesitantly, "Madam, is this how we will leave her there? She has been kneeling down since 4 p.m., and it's midnight already."
Fransisca didn't turn. Her voice was firm. "She will get through it."
"She might die."
Fransisca whirled around sharply, her eyes blazing. "She wouldn't! Do you think Harper is some princess that can't withstand this type of pain? She was brought up in the field—she is definitely tougher than this."
"Yes, madam."
Outside, Freya took a hesitant step forward, eyes locked on Harper's still figure. Rain soaked her to the skin, but she made no move to leave. She started forward, but Sage grabbed her wrist firmly.
"What—"
"Leave her alone."
Freya's voice cracked. "She is dying!"
"She will not die! She will be mad at you if you show her some kind of pity. She hates sympathies."
Freya's hands trembled, her eyes glassy. "But—"
Sage gave her a hard look. "Just leave her, Freya. She will get through it."
Back inside, Fransisca checked her phone and exhaled.
"It's 2 a.m."
Jesse nodded solemnly. "Yes, she has spent 10 hours and it's still raining heavily. At least she has served the punishment—we can help her inside."
"If the time is not complete, the courtesans will make a fuss about it."
"We should leave her till 4 a.m.? You can't even sleep because she is down there. Look at her escorts over there—they refused to leave."
Fransisca's eyes narrowed with urgency. Her jaw clenched. "I need to do something! I can't help out, but someone can take her away from the punishment."
"Who?"
Without answering, she snatched her phone and dialed quickly. The phone rang. Then—
"Quincy."
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Get your ass down to the courtesan house before Harper dies!"
"What? What happened?"
"Don't question me—just come down here right now!"
"On my way!" he answered before the call ended abruptly.
Across town, Quincy jumped to his feet and yanked open his door, nearly slamming into someone outside.
"What the hell!"
He froze. "Gianna? Why are you in front of my door?"
She crossed her arms, her tone sharp. "Where are you going to this late?"
"How is that your business?"
"It's my business! You are going to the courtesan house, right? I knew it! You've been going there frequently—sleeping with those courtesans. Did you take one as a companion?"
His face twisted in frustration. "Why should I be reporting my life to you, Gianna?"
"Don't ever try, Quincy! If you take on a courtesan, I will kill her myself."
"Really? Have you forgotten what the courtesan house is all about? Kill a courtesan? In your dreams. Get out of my way."
He brushed past her, leaving her fuming.
"Bastard! So he already took a companion? I need to find out who! I can't let anyone take Quincy away from me—never!"
The black car screeched to a halt outside the courtesan house. Quincy jumped out, rain instantly soaking his hoodie and pants. His eyes locked on the hunched, unmoving figure by the steps.
"Harper?" His voice broke.
She looked up slowly, rain trickling down her pale cheeks. "Quincy?"
Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees beside her, cupping her icy hands. "Why the hell are you inside the rain? Let me take you inside first—"
"What's the time?" Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
He glanced at his watch, already dripping. "It's almost 3 a.m."
"I have to stay here till 4 a.m."
His eyes darkened. "4 a.m.? What bullshit is that?"
Freya and Sage hurried over, their eyes wide with panic.
"Quincy!" Freya called.
He looked up. "Freya! Why are you guys there and not helping Harper out? She is dying!"
"She refused to take any help," Sage said quietly.
"Since when has she been here?"
"Since 4 p.m."
His eyes widened. "What? 4 p.m.? Did she kill someone in the courtesan house?"
"It was an attempted murder."
"She tried to kill someone?"
"No, no! That's what she was getting punishment for, but she didn't do it! It was that damn Angel that implicated her."
Harper coughed weakly. "It's fine, Freya."
Quincy's jaw tightened. "Angel? That girl again?"
"Yes."
"We'll discuss this later—let's take her inside first."
"I'm still under punishment."
"Fuck the punishment!" Quincy scooped her into his arms. Her head dropped against his chest, unconscious. "Harper? Harper, look at me!"
Freya gasped and touched her cheek. "She fainted."
"Let's go inside!"
They rushed through the doors. Staff bowed, but none dared to speak. They rode the elevator up. Freya darted ahead to open the suite door, and Quincy moved straight to the bathroom, placing her gently into the bathtub.
"I will take care of her. You can change your clothes, sir."
"Thank you, Freya."
Quincy stepped out, his fists trembling at his sides. He paced Harper's living room, soaked and furious. His jaw was clenched so hard it ached.
"That damn girl!"
He stormed out, his footsteps heavy as thunder, and barged into Madam Fransisca's quarters.
She stood up, startled. "Quincy, you're here. How is she?"
"Not good at all! Why can't you investigate properly before giving her punishment? What if she dies?"
Fransisca's expression was calm, but regretful. "She will not die, Quincy. She is strong."
He stepped forward, fury in his voice. "Because she is strong doesn't mean she can withstand all the pain! You should have called me earlier."
"The courtesans were already saying I was playing favorites. If I didn't give her the punishment or call you immediately, that would create more enemies for her. She would set her boundaries herself. This is how the courtesan house works. She is the one who will try hard to make them fear her."
His glare hardened. "That Angel girl? She is messing with me badly."
Fransisca's tone grew stern. "You know you can't touch a courtesan."
"I can definitely touch a courtesan if I wanted to!"
"Don't break the rules that we created. What example are we giving others if you harm a courtesan?"
"Mum!"
There was a beat of silence. Then, she softened. "I'm sorry, Quincy. Go take care of your girl."
"Jesse! Bring a change of clothes for me!"
"Yes, sir!"