The night leaned in close.
A hush had fallen over the parlor like silk dropped from a height. Firelight breathed golden onto the walls, licking the velvet drapes, stretching the shadows tall and watching. Jasmine stood beneath the chandelier, her back bare, spine gleaming like a blade, corset laced cruel and high.
Elora’s voice trailed off behind her, murmuring instructions to one of the girls. Distant laughter spilled from the upstairs landing.....a perfume of mirth Jasmine couldn’t feel. Not tonight.
Tonight, her mouth tasted of ash and wine and something else.
The man had arrived just after moonrise, escorted without introduction, but Elora’s glance had lingered longer than usual....just a flick of the eyes, barely a nod. Enough to mean danger, or delight. Often both.
He waited in
