[AFYC] Chapter 23

“Educate her,” the brothel madam commanded as soon as she entered the room. The person supporting her immediately asked for clarification. 

“You mean the girl who came in today?” 

“Who else would need educating?” she snapped, dropping the elegant, noble-like manners she had used earlier. 

“Any girl who crawls in here on her own needs educating. You know that” she continued. 

“Yes, of course,” the assistant responded with a hint of hesitation. 

“Do it right now.” 

“Right now?” the assistant echoed, surprised. 

“Why do you keep questioning me?” she barked. 

“Usually, we do a bit more background checking first. Maybe try to persuade them a bit more with words….” 

“She has nowhere to go,” the madam interrupted, dismissing the suggestion with a wave. She reached for a cigarette, her hand trembling slightly as she brought it to her lips. Her throat felt parched, so she abandoned the cigarette and took a deep swig of alcohol instead. 

She had sent the coachman to find the girl to talk to her a bit more and glean more information—like whether she had any family who might come looking for her if she went missing. 

But that was unnecessary now. 

The image of the girl turning her back and removing her coat, revealing those numerous pockets sewn inside, made everything clear. It was obvious why she endured the heat and refused to take off the coat. 

The girl knew the taste of misfortune well. Only those who had been cornered understood the survival instincts of the desperate. 

There was a sweetness in the scent of her misfortune as it lingered in the air. 

“Don’t leave any marks. She’s worth five thousand.” 

“Understood. Should we use an anaesthetic and an aphrodisiac?” 

“If you want to avoid leaving marks, then yes. Be careful with the dosage. We don’t want her ruined.” 

As if reluctant to bring up an unpleasant topic, the madam hesitated before asking, “And the man?” 

The assistant at the door quickly answered, “He’s left.” 

“Did you confirm his carriage has departed?” 

“Yes, I saw it heading towards the Ritz Hotel.” 

She nodded and took another gulp of the strong liquor, letting it burn down her throat. 

She couldn’t shake a nagging feeling. 

He didn’t seem interested in sex, so was it a surge of chivalry that made him want to rescue the girl? 

That didn’t seem right either. 

The fact that he was an unknown man still bothered her, but he would have done it by now if he had intended to do something. That was why she felt more urgency than usual. She was anxious about what the girl might do after hearing the word “brothel.” 

“Start educating her now, before she tries anything foolish. Do it in the room, and before dawn, have her loaded into a carriage and sent to Lot.” 

“Understood.” 

“Keep her well-hidden until I call for her. And, like I said, be careful with the dosage. If she ends up damaged, the person who does it will suffer the same fate. Got it?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

She took another shot of the strong liquor. As the alcohol began to take effect, the anxiety that had been churning in her chest gradually subsided. 

It’s nothing. Just a routine night. 

Everything was under control. The night was passing smoothly, and she hadn’t lost the girl. 

Old age must be making me more suspicious, she thought. 

As the trembling in her hands finally subsided, the madam regained her usual elegant composure, reminiscent of a palace lady-in-waiting. 

At that same moment, numerous wolves silently gathered in the shadows, converging on the beautiful mansion by the Daube River. 

The Wolves crept through the shadows of the mansion’s garden, their movements hidden by the black silhouettes of the trees. 

The mysterious man was supposedly gone and leisurely strolled through the brothel’s garden. His hands were in his pockets; his posture relaxed—much like his mother, whose behaviour often sent chills down his spine. 

Oscar mentally crushed the fleeting image of his mother as if stamping out a cigarette. As he did so, he continued to stroll through the garden, seemingly enjoying a late-night walk. 

The thick undergrowth muffled his footsteps, and the swirling wind concealed any noise. His gaze was fixed on the thick canopy of leaves overhead. 

Like a predator closing in on its prey, Oscar moved toward the girl’s room, eventually stopping in a secluded spot and leaning against a tree. 

From this vantage point, he had a clear view of her room. The curtains were drawn, but a sliver of light escaped through a gap, and there was the occasional hint of movement. 

“The King of Felphe has already been informed,” Simon reported, stepping closer. 

Oscar clicked his tongue softly. 

He had hoped to intercept the report related to the vault before it reached the king, but he was too late.