The Top Courtesan

A knock sounded at the door. Karen, who was lying in bed, sat up, reached out, and opened it... Outside, four attendants were carrying a bathtub. Lying inside was a woman veiled in light gauze—or rather, a mermaid. "I didn't place an order." "Sir, your friend arranged this for you." "My friend?" "Yes, sir, your friend." "I'm sorry, but I don't need this." Just then, the mermaid in the tub began to sob. Her quiet weeping trembled with every breath, each quiver seeming to tug at the listener's heartstrings. Anyone else, man or woman, would likely have been overcome with pity and lost their head. But Karen possessed an extraordinary mental resilience, and in that instant, his immediate thought was: *She's trying to influence me with mental power!* "I said, I don't need this." "Sir, doing this puts us in an impossible position. The order has already been delivered; if she's sent back, she'll face punishment." A mature woman in a long gown walked up to the doorway and addressed Karen. "Punishment?" "Yes. Any mermaid who gets turned away is punished. That is the rule of our theater. Furthermore, she won't receive the commission she was supposed to get. You don't have to do anything at all—just let her stay here and chat with you to pass the time. Please, have some mercy." Karen assumed Richard or Leon must have placed the order on his behalf. An outright, fierce refusal would be awkward, so he simply nodded. The attendants carried the bathtub into Karen's room and promptly filed out. The mature woman offered Karen a slight smile. "Thank you for your kindness." With that, she closed the door. Once it was shut, the smile vanished from her face, replaced by a deep frown. She genuinely could not fathom what game Her Highness was playing. She wasn't even sure whether it would be better for the handsome gentleman inside to touch the mermaid or leave her alone. Regardless, she had delivered the top courtesan as ordered. Whatever happened next could not be blamed on her. Inside the room, the mermaid removed her veil, revealing her face. She was exceedingly fair, her skin remarkably delicate. Looking at her, any other descriptors seemed to vanish from the mind. Absolute fairness and flawless softness blended like the most harmonious colors in the world, finding their perfect expression in her. Crossing her hands before her chest, the mermaid bowed to Karen. Karen sat back down by the edge of the bed and watched her. The mermaid opened her hand to reveal a small blue vial resting in her palm. She looked at Karen, silently asking if he wanted her to drink it now and sprout legs. To her surprise, the handsome gentleman gave no answer. Instead, he reached out and took the vial from her palm. Karen uncorked the vial and held it beneath his nose to sniff it. Though he was no master of potion-making, Purr was an expert at it. Back home, Purr had concocted plenty of remedies to treat Dora and Doreen, so Karen had picked up a working knowledge of the craft. The potion's scent was slightly pungent. Inhaling just a trace left his head feeling faintly dazed and swollen. "You shouldn't take this stuff often. It's bad for your body." The mermaid gave an awkward smile. This was the first time she had ever encountered a guest like this. Other guests either told her to drink it right away or told her not to drink it at all; some told her to drink it halfway through. "Can't you speak?" The mermaid nodded. "Then we won't chat." The mermaid nodded again, assuming he wanted to get straight to business. She opened her arms, preparing to display her alluring charms. "I'll sleep on the bed, and you sleep in the tub. We'll each get some rest." "..." The mermaid was struck dumb. Karen lay back down on the bed, crossed his hands beneath his head, and closed his eyes. Everyone had their own preferences, or perhaps quirks, which usually fell within an acceptable, normal range. Eunice, for instance, knew he liked stockings; whenever he returned, she would prepare several different styles to make him happy. That was simply a way for a couple to please each other—perfectly natural and completely harmless. But with this mermaid, no matter how beautiful and exquisite her features were, the sight of that fish tail in the tub killed every shred of interest Karen might have had. Keeping an expression of distaste off his face was already an act of restraint. That tail, those fish scales... it gave Karen the distinct impression of being in a seafood market. He didn't even dare recall the seafood feast Laure had treated them to at noon. In the tub, the theater's top courtesan was completely dumbfounded. *What is going on?* *I came here to sleep, but not to sleep like this...* Yet with the guest already lying on the bed, what could she do? The potion was in his hands. Was she supposed to flip herself out of the tub, flap her tail against the floor, and call for him to come help her up? As the star attraction, she had her pride too. So, using her left hand, she lifted a lock of her long hair to her lips and began blowing a faint, melodic note through it. Before the sound could take effect, however, a cold voice came from the bed: "Do you not recognize the clothes I'm wearing?" The woman froze. She truly didn't recognize them. Dark Moon Island had a sizable local population, but the backbone of its entertainment industry was made up of traveling merchants, pirates, and rulers from neighboring islets. Dark Moon Island served as the sole transit hub for maritime trade in these waters. However, Dark Moon Island had long forbidden outside churches, family cults, and other foreign powers from entering. Rare interactions were confined strictly to the Bernard Hotel. Although a missionary station of the Church of Order had recently been established on the island, it was still new, and its influence had yet to spread. The common islanders knew little about it, let alone a specialized group like the merfolk. "Praise Order." The mermaid's mouth fell open, utter dread washing over her face. She didn't recognize the clerical robes, but she knew the name of the Church of Order. The church's immense power and terrifying reputation were no secret, even on this island, and their unfamiliarity only magnified that fear. The mermaid immediately sank obediently back into the tub, daring not make another move. Her body still trembled faintly with fright. Lying in bed, Karen frowned slightly. *Why do I feel like someone is spying on me?* ... "Your Highness, Mr. Karen has gone back to sleep on the bed, while the mermaid remains in the tub." The warrior Panmiel continued peering across toward the opposite room as she reported to Ophelia behind her. Having just returned from making the delivery, Madame Chenai heard this and immediately offered a flattering smile. "It seems Mr. Karen is truly deeply devoted to Your Highness." Whether a princess of Dark Moon Island could marry an outsider, or whether it served the interests of their respective factions, was something Madame Chenai did not know, nor did she need to know. She only needed to say what sounded pleasing. Yet no youthful smile appeared on Ophelia's face. She didn't seem pleased by the news at all, offering only a flat, "Let us return." "Yes, Your Highness." "Safe travels, Your Highness." ... Karen had no idea how long a single ticket for a third-floor private booth was good for. Presumably, as long as one kept ordering or extending the time, they would let you stay indefinitely. Yet more than two hours had passed. Were the others still not finished? He had already taken a full afternoon nap. Then another possibility occurred to him. Perhaps they had finished long ago and were waiting for him, assuming he was occupied because he had never dismissed the mermaid. *So... was my session passively extended?* Karen sat up from the bed and opened the door. An attendant was standing in the corridor outside. "Excuse me, are my friends finished?" "Sir, they are already downstairs by the bar, waiting for you." Just as he thought. Karen shook his head in mild exasperation. He, the one who had kept his hands entirely clean, had somehow taken the longest and made everyone wait. "How many point coupons—that is, Order coupons—do I owe?" Karen recalled Laure mentioning that the fee for placing an order had to be paid directly to the mermaid, bypassing the theater's front desk. "Sir, your bill has already been settled. You may head straight downstairs." "Settled?" Karen's brow furrowed slightly. That made no sense. The three of them had checked out and gone downstairs earlier. Even if they had offered to cover the bill together when leaving their booths, that would only account for the expenses incurred up to that point. Besides, with each person choosing different services at different prices, covering for someone else wasn't straightforward. "Alright, I understand." Karen glanced back at the mermaid lying in the tub. Well, she truly was a mermaid; after soaking in the tub for so long, her skin showed not the slightest sign of pruning. "Goodbye." "Take care, sir." Karen went downstairs. On the sofas near the bar, he easily spotted Richard, Leon, and Laure sitting together. Seeing Karen come down, all three cheered in unison: "Oho! You're finally down! Do you have any idea how long we've been waiting for you?!" "A true king! A king among men!" "Since when are you this competitive? How many extensions did you buy? You didn't just have the mermaid lie in the tub chatting with you to drag out the clock, did you?" "Which of you paid my bill?" Karen asked. The three exchanged glances. Richard spoke up. "Didn't you say you had coupons on you when I offered you some earlier, Karen?" "Alright, I see." "What happened?" Leon asked. "Someone didn't actually pick up your tab, did they?" "It seems that way." "Well, that's rare," Laure said with a chuckle. "This is your first time on Dark Moon Island, isn't it? Don't tell me you know someone here..." As he said this, Laure instinctively glanced at Leon. If Karen knew anyone here, it would be that person. But obviously, with both Leon and Karen present, it was hardly the place for such jokes. "It's getting late. Let's head back," Leon said, patting the shoulders of the men beside him. The four climbed back into the carriage. Half an hour later, they returned to the hotel, continuing deeper into the grounds until they reached their squad's residential area. Standing guard before the courtyard gate was a group of warriors clad in red armor. "A prominent figure from Dark Moon Island must be meeting with Grandfather," Leon said. The group stepped down from the carriage. The warriors did not stop them, stepping aside to make way. Once Karen and the others walked inside, they found Neo and the remaining members of the Whip of Order squad lined up in two rows in the courtyard. This was standard protocol; on this trip, the Whip of Order squad was effectively serving as an honor guard. "Dammit," Laure cursed under his breath. His duty was to keep the minutes during formal meetings like this, yet he, the recording secretary, had been absent until now. Karen and Richard immediately produced their silver masks, slipped them on, and took their places in formation. Leon smoothed down his clothes, preparing to go in and pay his respects as well. His grandfather was receiving a guest; proper etiquette dictated that he go up to greet them, after which his grandfather would introduce him. However, Bishop Wolflen was already walking out of the building alongside the guest. Standing beside Bishop Wolflen was none other than Miss Ophelia. Their discussion had clearly concluded, and they were exchanging final pleasantries. "Princess Ophelia, your visit leaves me deeply honored." "During my time in York City, I received much care from you. Now that you have arrived on our island, it is only right that I fulfill my duties as host." The preliminary negotiations for the alliance between Dark Moon Island and the Church of Order had taken place in York City, and Wolflen had been one of the key figures handling them. "Your Highness is far too gracious. It is my honor to visit such a beautiful place." "I also hope that once the formal negotiations conclude, you will stay on the island a little longer, allowing us to properly entertain you and our friends from the Church of Order." "Thank you for the kind invitation." Seeing that the guest was Ophelia, Leon hesitated, casting a deliberate glance at Karen standing in the ranks. He had already told Karen that he had no taste for arranged marriages, so he harbored no resentment over the rumors, nor would he target Karen over them. Doing something like that would only make him look petty. Still, he had to consider his grandfather's feelings—or rather, his grandfather's face. Unfortunately, he had no mask in his pocket. Otherwise, he would have loved to mask up and hide in the formation too. Just then, his grandfather, walking down the steps, fixed his gaze upon him. "Leon, come here." Leon had no choice but to step forward. "Grandfather." Turning to Ophelia, he said, "Princess Ophelia, greetings. It is a pleasure to see you again." "It pleases me to see Mr. Leon again as well." "This boy has taken quite a liking to Dark Moon Island. No sooner had we checked in and unpacked than he went out exploring." As an elder, Wolflen instinctively put in a good word for his grandson. "Oh? Where did Mr. Leon go this afternoon?" Leon replied with a smile, "I went to try some local seafood, then took a leisurely stroll through the streets to take in the local culture. When traveling, I generally dislike visiting specific tourist sights. I feel true beauty is found only by wandering freely." "Mr. Leon possesses quite a refined sensibility." "It isn't refinement; I simply believe that only in this way can one truly appreciate authentic beauty." Leon's reply was smooth and polished. Wolflen chuckled. "He has always been like this. Young people these days are fond of this sort of romantic, artistic flair. Heh." The old man had no idea that his grandson had spent the afternoon whoring. Even less did he know that the princess standing right before him was fully aware that his grandson had spent the afternoon whoring. ... In the ranks, Richard tilted his head slightly toward Karen, gesturing for him to look at Miss Ophelia. Karen ignored him. Then Karen noticed that, with the sole exception of Memphis, everyone in the formation was either winking or making subtle hand signals at him. Karen chose to ignore every single one of them. These people were just eager to watch a show—especially with Leon standing right there, which made them all the more excited. Karen was helpless. He could only blame himself for wearing his grandfather's mask that day and saying too much, which had led to this exact awkward predicament. ... "I've grown old; perhaps you young people will have more to talk about among yourselves," Wolflen remarked. "You are not old at all. Your mind is as vibrant and full of vigor as any young person's," Ophelia flattered politely. "Heh, once a man reaches my age, there is no denying it. It is difficult to muster the spirit of youth. Nowadays, my role is merely to guide the young on their path; after that, it will fall to them to carry on serving the great God." "I apologize for disturbing your rest." "No, no, not at all. I am grateful for Your Highness's visit. By rights, it should have been me, the guest, paying respects to the host." "Please rest well. I shall take my leave now." "Very well. Leon, see Her Highness out." "Yes, Grandfather." Ophelia turned and walked outward, with Leon accompanying her side. As she passed Karen, she did not spare him a single glance. Yet Karen felt not the slightest disappointment. Even without Purr's repeated warnings back home, Karen had never indulged in idle fantasies here. The only vessel suitable for holding faint, fond sentiments was memory. Still, he knew he would meet Miss Ophelia again. It had nothing to do with romance; it was a matter of his identity. Dark Moon Island would certainly invite him for a private conversation sooner or later. Ophelia walked right past Karen. *Hmm...* *She seems to have gained a little weight.* Perhaps she had grown thin from poor meals at the Ankara Hotel; now that she was back home and eating properly, she had regained what she lost. At that moment, Karen heard the captain's voice: "As protocol dictates: Richard, Karen, accompany Mr. Leon in seeing off our guest." *Captain, what on earth are you playing at?* Karen glanced at his captain. Behind the silver mask, Karen couldn't see Neo's expression, but he was certain a mischievous smirk was playing at the corners of the man's lips. Richard turned and fell in behind Leon. With no other choice, Karen accompanied Richard, trailing after Leon. Once outside the gate, Ophelia did not hurry into her carriage. Instead, she continued walking, with Leon by her side. The carriage and retinue followed behind. Karen and Richard walked behind Leon, flanked by the warrior Panmiel and another female warrior. In truth, the most uncomfortable person present was Leon. With Ophelia ahead of him and Karen behind him, he didn't even attempt to strike up a conversation; doing so would have made him feel utterly ridiculous. Finally, reaching a shaded stretch beside a scenic canal, Ophelia came to a stop. Everyone stopped with her. Facing the water, Ophelia spoke: "Karen." The moment she called the name, Leon stepped back of his own accord, rolling his shoulders to dispel the awkwardness. Though her voice had not been loud, it was unmistakable—so clear that there was no room to pretend he hadn't heard. Karen had no choice but to walk toward Ophelia. Standing in place, Richard's expression beneath his mask shifted continuously. When Karen came to a stop behind Ophelia, Richard broke into a wide, knowing grin. Leon backed away toward the side, gesturing for the others to step back as well. Richard naturally followed, and Panmiel led the other female warrior back as well, clearing the space and leaving it to the two of them. Richard bumped Leon's shoulder. "Didn't realize you were such a gentleman." "I dislike political marriages. I want freedom." "So you should be thanking Karen?" "Sorry, but you're asking too much of me. I'm no saint." "No, in my heart, you're already Saint Leon." ... Beneath the shade of the trees, Ophelia remained facing the river, her back still turned toward Karen. "Went out for a stroll this afternoon?" "Mm." "Where did you go?" "Had seafood first." "And after that? What did you do?" "Went whoring."