21 The Brothel

  Lord Parlings was close to finding her. He knew her gender and probably a lot more than that. For some reason, Joseph was concerned for her. He could feel something bad was inside the confidential letter. So, he decided to find the Pedlar and warn her about Lord Parlings, and there was only one place he could think of; the palace.

  Last time the princess threw him out of the palace and threatened him not to show his face. But Joseph had an excuse; delivering Behzad’s wines. He placed the huge vats of alcohol in the cold winery with a short ceiling and received the payments, but he didn’t leave the palace.

  With quiet steps, he roamed the place to search for the princess and ask her about the pedlar’s whereabouts. His ears picked up a familiar voice from a room. He hid behind the door and waited for her to appear in sight. It was the healer; Joseph could feel it. One of the servants exited a room, startling Joseph. He had to change his hiding spot and hide behind a big vase. The Pedlar finally left the room and paced the hallway to the stairs. Joseph followed her silently and seized the perfect opportunity to talk to her. The best solution was to talk privately, so he pulled her inside one of the rooms and closed the door.

  The Pedlar kicked Joseph while he covered her mouth to silence her. She was in her maid look. When she realized it was Joseph, her eyebrows furrowed. Joseph waited for her to calm down.

  She wiped her mouth, stepping away from him. “What is your problem? What are you doing?!”

  “There’s something vital that you must know,” Joseph said.

  “How did you enter the palace?”

  “I found a way. Can we speak?”

  “You think you can drag me anywhere you want at any time you please?”

  “Hush, woman! Listen to me.”

  “What is so important that you had to come here and drag me into a room?! Do you know the consequences of your actions?!”

  Joseph got closer to her to lower his voice. “Lord Parlings knows you’re a woman.”

  “Pardon me?!”

  “He knows you’re a woman,” Joseph whispered, hearing voices from outside. “He’s close to finding you.”

  “Who is Lord Parlings?”

  “An English man, looking for you. I saw a letter come for him. It was from England, sealed and confidential.”

  “What does the letter have to do with me?”

  “He is secretive. He followed me for months from England to Persia without showing his face. You are too important to him. I’m afraid he has ill intentions with you. English men are not to be trusted. And do not confuse Parlings with anyone. He is just as much of a Brit as any other.”

  She seemed distressed about what Joseph said. “Who are you?” he asked, and her attention switched to him again. “Why does Lord Parlings search for you? You’re not telling me everything.”

  “I don’t have to.”

  “You do—“

  A loud thud interrupted their conversation. Screams raised as the slashing of the daggers rose. The Pedlar’s eyes widened in shock.

  “What was that?” Joseph asked.

  “Oh, dear,” she mumbled, walking toward the door.

  “Wait!” Joseph grabbed her wrist and stopped her. “What is happening?”

  “Someone wants to hurt the crown prince. They have been attacking the palace since Chelle. This is the third attempt.”

  “And what do you think you can do if you leave the room?”

  “Help others.”

  “Absolutely not!”

  She pulled her hand back, ignoring his warning and walked toward the door. Joseph grabbed her by her waist and dragged her into a closet, closing the door.

  “What are you doing?” The pedlar protested, but Joseph’s hand silenced her by covering her mouth. Someone entered the room, and they held their breaths. Joseph shook his head, warning her to stay quiet and not do something stupid. He held her by her waist so he wouldn’t fall out of the closet. She had him close and stayed silent. The closeness was too sudden and intimate. He didn’t want to feel the healer’s body even though one of his hands was on her waist. Her breath touched his chin since their height difference wasn’t much. He realized that she was tall.

  She moved her head backward to put a distance between them. Joseph looked into her eyes. Her breathing was paced. Rays of light entered the closet through the small holes in its door. Joseph watched her long lashes while holding her close. Her dark brown eyes lit under the light like a pool of honey. In that moment she wasn’t a healer but a woman, an achingly beautiful one at that.

  As Joseph focused on the details of her face, he noticed how different yet lovely she looked. Her dark hair and eyes were unlike most English women, and her face was fierce yet unintentionally warm. Such a beautiful woman had to disguise herself as a man. Otherwise, men would pursue her and claim her as their own. She smelled like spring, and it calmed his senses. He closed his eyes instinctively and breathed to have her scent. The moment lasted for too long. Joseph found himself relaxed and delighted in the presence of the most unlikely person.

  “Are you—?” she whispered, and Joseph opened his eyes.

  She was looking down at his trousers. Joseph looked down as well and saw the bulge. He tried to back away from her, but there was no space, which caused him to lose his balance and almost fall out of the closet, but the Pedlar was fast. She grabbed him and held him tighter to steady him. She knew Joseph didn’t mean to harass her, and it must have been embarrassing for him to experience that, so she decided to let it go.

  “It’s fine,” She mouthed, taking Joseph’s worries away. “Don’t move.”

  They waited in silence, and Joseph wished he could disappear from the face of the earth. For the first time in a very long time, he was drawn to a woman, and not any woman; The Pedlar, a woman with a different heritage and unknown character. No. It couldn’t be. God must have been teasing him like that. She was everything he didn’t like. But what did Joseph like? Did he have a specific taste in women? In his four decades of life, he had never considered what appealed to him other than his wife, and it made him feel peculiar again.

  He dismissed his feelings. If he had managed to keep his heart locked this far, he could continue it with no problems. There was nothing breathtaking about her. She was an ordinary woman with long dark hair, eyes that seemed like an endless night, and lips that could be softer than a mother’s touch. Oh, those lips seemed like they could give life to him if they ever touched him.

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  He took a deep breath and cursed himself for being affected at the wrong time by the wrong person. The intruder left the room, and they heard the door closing. Contrary to his logic, Joseph stopped her hand from opening the door and gazed into her eyes. She was surprised by his audacity.

  “What is your name?” he asked, realizing it was silly to feel things for a woman with no name.

  “I don’t—”

  “You have to protect yourself by hiding your identity, I get it. But it’s me. I must know.”

  “Do you think I owe you because you’re an English man?”

  “What? Where did that come from?”

  “English men have a sense of entitlement.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then why are you forcing me?”

  “I merely want to call the woman I’ve been chasing for over a year.”

  That came out wrong, or perhaps right. He sounded like a strange man who was obsessed with her. Wasn’t that the truth?

  Her stubbornness made Joseph more impatient. He should have been softer if he wanted her to answer him. “Please,” he said, admiring the way her lips rested while she didn’t speak. “Don’t you trust me even for a bit?” he asked, not realizing her answer could be unkind.

  “No.”

  “How can you not? I came here to warn you.”

  “I don’t know you. And every time you set foot in here, an attack happens. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

  Joseph’s nostrils flared in anger, but he couldn’t blame her. She tried leaving again, but he stopped her. “You can’t leave now. It’s dangerous out there.”

  “The princess needs me.”

  “You’re close to each other, aren’t you?”

  “Do you expect me to give you an honest answer?”

  She was lovely even when defying him. “I do not,” he said, smiling. Without realizing what he was doing, he raised his hand to touch her face. Her skin was warm but not as soft as he imagined. She was indeed a hardworking woman. Before that day, he only wanted to know who she was and confront her about saving his life. Now his heart was thumping. Joseph’s obsession now had turned into something completely different. It scared him to have these strong feelings. What if she perished away like others?

  The oath he had taken—the one about never feeling any affection toward another woman—was slowly fading away. He couldn’t be unaffected by the brown-eyed death angel before him.

  The pedlar liked being cared for. She had spent her entire life saving and healing others, but no one ever healed her and her heart. For the first time in her lonely life, someone was worried about her wellbeing. She wanted to believe Joseph actually took an interest in her and liked her, but wasn’t he just an English man?

  “I suggest you stay away from me, Lord Mainwood,” she said, “My life is confusing enough.”

  He was in a vulnerable state. The healer’s beauty and strength was undeniable. However, the attraction had to stop. He opened the door of the closet. They stepped out, and the Pedlar dusted off her clothes.

  Before she would leave, Joseph spoke. “You must forgive me for…” He wanted to apologize for his erection but didn’t know how to do it without sounding silly. “You know?” he said, pointing at the closet. “It never happens.”

  “All right.”

  “Not never! I mean, it happens when it must. With the right woman.”

  The Pedlar raised an eyebrow. “Your message is loud and clear, Lord Mainwood. I don’t have any intentions to bed you.”

  “No,” Joseph said. “I didn’t mean that you’re not the right woman. You’re not the right woman for me. Not that I wouldn’t want you. I mean, no. I obviously would want you. Jesus. What am I saying?” He ran his hand through his hair. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to harass you. It was a reaction I could not control.”

  She uncrossed her arms. “It’s alright. Apology accepted. Now if you excuse me, I have to find the princess.”

  “You must be more careful. Stop going out to save others. Think about yourself and put the hood away.”

  “Who are you to tell me what to do?”

  Joseph’s mouth opened. He had never been disrespected by a woman before. “Stop being so difficult and listen to what I say. I’m a man. I know better.”

  “You know better because you’re a man?”

  “Yes.”

  She laughed. “You’re funny too.”

  It was the first time that she laughed. Joseph liked it even though she was insulting him. “This is a serious matter,” he said. “I’m not jesting.”

  “What if you’re a part of Lord Parlings’ plan?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Are you not a Brit as any other?”

  “I am one, but hurting you would not benefit me in any way.”

  “I wouldn’t know that. You could approach me to earn my trust, and then you will take me wherever you want.”

  “That’s not true. I don’t need you. Your only use for me would be to save my son and wife, but they are long gone. So rest assured, I don’t care for you and what happens to you in the slightest. Lord Parlings or any other man could take you and do as they wish, and I wouldn’t move an arm.”

  The Pedlar took a few seconds to respond to that. He was insensitive and mean. “Good,” she said. “Then leave me be. And don’t come back here.”

  Joseph regretted the way he spoke, but it was too late. The Pedlar had already exited the room. Why couldn’t he control his temper? Why did he have to complicate things? That day barely passed for him. The next evening, he stood in the yard of Behzad’s house and sighed deeply. It was time for him to return to England. But what if Lord Parlings found her? Her, the woman with a feather and a cloak, the stranger with soft yet firm hands. How tender her skin felt like under Joseph’s fingertips. How her sweet voice poured into Joseph’s soul.

  Joseph looked at his fingers, recalling the brief moment he was able to touch her face. It made his stomach fill with longing and desire for more. The next time perhaps he could touch her lips while kneeding her bosoms. The wild thoughts surprised Joseph. He found himself fantasizing about a woman that wasn’t his wife. It was wrong, but so helplessly promising to imagine her in his hold, her lips parted and her stubbornness gone only to surrender to him.

  That was so desperate of him to yearn for a woman he had seen only a couple of times. Was he getting sick?

  “I see you’re troubled,” Behzad said, interrupting Joseph’s fantasy while approaching him.

  Joseph looked up, trying hard to shake the thoughts away. He watched Behzad’s arrival with a box of bottles in his hands. “Can I have some of your wine?” he asked desperately to distract himself one way or another.

  Behzad nodded. “Of course.” He put the box down and pulled one bottle out. “But you do realize that problems don’t get solved by alcohol, right?”

  “Let him drink,” Lord Parlings said, appearing in sight and grabbing the bottle from Behzad’s hand. “Here, my friend,” he said, stretching his hand before Joseph. “Drink. Don’t think.”

  Joseph took the bottle and chugged on it.

  “I have been down that road, Joseph,” Behzad said, and Parlings rolled his eyes. “That’s why I’m warning you. I ended up in the streets with no one to help me sober up. I only wish you don’t meet the same fate as me.”

  Behzad always looked clean and neat. He never drank and was always sharp. It was surprising to both Joseph and Lord Parlings that Behzad was an alcoholic in the past. Joseph looked at Behzad and then at the drink in his hand. He put his glass on the table to reassure Behzad that he would be fine.

  “You’re right,” Joseph said. “I apologize for being a drunken man most of the time.”

  “You don’t bother me,” Behzad said, patting Joseph on his back. “You will only become a burden to yourself. Soberness will be intolerable to you if you keep being drunk.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  Behzad smiled gently and lifted the box of bottles to walk out of the house, leaving Joseph with Parlings alone.

  “Let us leave before Behzad comes with another piece of advice,” Parlings said.

  Joseph was confused. “Leave? Where to?”

  “Somewhere you can enjoy life.” Parlings winked and dragged Joseph with himself.

  Joseph never enjoyed his time while Parlings was around. Now that he knew Parlings was up to no good, he felt even worse. Parlings took Joseph to a fancy harem-like brothel. A dark atmosphere welcomed him, the ceiling sparkling with big shiny chandliers, the walls decorated with miniature paintings and calligraphy, and the women dressed in the most modest way a sex worker could; in a long skirt and short sleeved shirts with a veil that rarely covered any hair. Parlings’ men paid a woman to see her dance. Joseph was already upset for not drinking, and now he had to tolerate their company. He watched the alcohol containers before him on the table and breathed deeply to control himself.

  “We’re at the best brothel in this town. All the aristocrats come here,” Parlings said. “Aren’t you enjoying this?”

  Joseph looked up. “I am,” he lied.

  He wasn’t. He realized that it was the first time he had been completely sober since he survived death a year ago. It was hard for him not to drink. He was a tempered man, and he hated becoming angrier. It only meant that he was becoming his father. He looked at the dancer again, hoping to find joy in something, perhaps in how her body moved. But the dancer wasn’t much experienced. She didn’t move her body like the others. Parlings’ men got bored of her. A servant approached their table and started filling their cups.

  “Maybe you can dance better!” one man said and grabbed the servant’s arm, dragging her to his body.

  Joseph hated that. He wanted to punch the man in his face, but it would only complicate things with Parlings. So, he sat still and breathed deeply, weighing his options. The servant tried freeing herself from his hold, but he was stronger. “Dance for me, and I will let you go!” the man said, and the other men laughed, drinking from their cups.

  Joseph looked up at her to see if she was strong enough to pull away from those drunk men. Something on the veil that covered her face caught Joseph’s eye. A wing pattern that Joseph had seen before. It looked like a drawing from the book he had stolen from the princess. His heart skipped a beat.

  No. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t possibly be Her.

  Joseph's catching feeling!!!!!