Aric woke with a lingering warmth humming beneath his skin.
He lay on the oak bed frame, listening to the quiet sounds of the Velvet Hearth.
His spine rested on the goose down without protest.
The humiliating, intoxicating memory of kneeling on Vaelisse’s rug the previous morning no longer sparked panic.
Instead, the memory of his own staggering release, and her cool, appraising eyes, settled into his chest like an anchor.
He dressed in a clean white linen shirt that pulled slightly against his broad shoulders, and his standard wool trousers, leaving his boots upstairs.
Walking barefoot down the steps, he bypassed the front office and found the kitchens.
Brinna was slicing a slab of salted beef.
She pushed a steaming ceramic mug of dark tea across the prep counter.
Aric offered the dwarven cook a grateful nod, took the warm clay in his hands, and pushed through the rear doors to get some air.
The back of the Velvet Hearth opened onto an enclosed stone terrace overlooking the Lantern District’s main canal.
High privacy walls draped in frost-hardy vines shielded the garden from the neighboring estates.
A series of rune-carved stones set into the terrace paving kept the winter chill at bay, melting the morning frost.
Aric stopped near the doorway.
Rhoz and Perrin stood at the edge of the terrace, leaning against the stone balustrade.
Both companions held slender fishing poles, their lines disappearing into the dark, sluggish water of the canal.
Both of them were completely naked.
Aric took a sip of his tea.
Two weeks ago, the sight of a massive Orc and a Tanuki standing completely unclad in a garden would have sent his provincial clerk instincts into a moral spiral.
Today, he merely noted the radiant heat coming from the floor runes and walked over to join them.
“Good morning,” Aric said, resting his forearms on the cold stone of the balustrade.
Perrin glanced over with a bright, easy smile.
The licensed Tanuki companion possessed a lean, sculpted build beneath a coat of soft, earthy-brown fur.
Faint, crescent-shaped scratches marked his ribs—the signature of an enthusiastic recent booking.
He shifted his weight, his thick, ringed tail swishing lazily against the stone, making no effort to hide his soft cock, which rested neatly against his dark fur in perfect proportion to his lithe frame.
“Morning, manager,” Perrin greeted.
He gave his fishing pole a lazy twitch, his round, dark-furred ears swiveling slightly.
“You missed the rush for the baths.
We stepped out here to let the steam dry off.” On Aric’s other side, Rhoz gave a rumbling grunt.
The Plains Orc companion stood as a mountain of corded, green muscle, his sheer mass effortlessly dwarfing Aric’s own six-foot frame.
His dark hair was tied back, and two jutting lower tusks framed his jaw.
Thick, overlapping scars and intricate tribal tattoos wrapped around his broad shoulders, down his trunk-like thighs, and—Aric realized with a sudden, slightly stunned blink—continued directly onto his heavy, relaxed cock.
The dark ink coiled around the thick green flesh in aggressive, jagged bands.
Vaelisse had once claimed Aric’s own anatomy was large enough to silence the Orc.
Looking at the sheer, terrifying bulk of the weapon resting against Rhoz’s scarred thigh, Aric finally understood exactly how extreme his own proportions had to be to earn that specific comparison.
“Are there fish in the canal during the winter?” Aric asked, deliberately staring down at the dark water to avoid looking at Rhoz’s tattooed cock a second time.
“No,” Rhoz answered.
His deep voice vibrated in his chest.
“But holding the pole stops Kaela from asking me to help her move furniture in the lounge.” Perrin laughed, a bright, clear sound.
“It works.
She took one look at us out here and decided she didn’t want to interrupt men’s business.” Aric smiled, taking another drink of his tea.
The canal water lapped gently against the stone foundation below them.
The quiet brotherhood felt surprisingly peaceful.
“Mera updated the ledger,” Perrin mentioned, keeping his eyes on his empty fishing line.
“Word is you pulled a gold crown from Lady Selyna.
A hundred silver on your second supervised run.
You will put us out of business, Aric.” “I provided a social shield,” Aric corrected.
“I listened to her talk about the Silk Guild’s trade routes for two hours so the room would stop staring at her.
I doubt I am competing for your specific clientele.” Rhoz snorted, adjusting his grip on his pole.
“Do not underestimate the market for a shield, boy,” the Orc said bluntly.
“They hire you when they want to feel safe in public.
They hire me when they are sick of being safe.” Aric turned his head, looking at the scarred Orc.
Despite his best efforts, his eyes flicked downward again.
The overwhelming reality of living in a non-human brothel simply refused to be ignored.
“I have to ask,” Aric blurted out, abandoning his polite provincial restraint entirely.
“Did you actually let someone take a tattoo needle to your…” “To my cock?” Rhoz finished smoothly, baring his lower tusks in a wicked grin.
“I am a Plains Orc, Master Vale.
We mark our victories where our enemies and lovers can see them.
And yes, the needle hurt.
But the wives of Sunmere’s nobility find the texture extremely satisfying when I am rearranging their internal organs.” Perrin nearly dropped his fishing pole, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
“He charges an extra ten silver just to let them touch the ink,” the Tanuki managed between laughs.
“It is the most brilliant, extortionate upcharge in the entire house.” “I handle the romantics,” Perrin continued, wiping a tear from his eye.
“The ones who want poetry, agility, and a man who can bend them in half without leaving a bruise.
The Hearth thrives on variety, Aric.
You found your niche.” “It seems I have,” Aric murmured, his brain still slightly stuck on the concept of textured genital tattoos.
“Mera marked you unavailable for private instruction yesterday morning,” Perrin added, his dark eyes dancing with amusement.
“And you walked out of the parlor looking as though Vaelisse had reorganized your soul.” Aric stopped mid-sip.
He lowered his mug.
Client privacy at the Hearth was sacred.
Staff privacy beneath the same roof was considerably less reliable.
“She is thorough,” Aric managed, a flush creeping up his neck.
Rhoz threw his head back and laughed, a booming, raucous sound that echoed off the stone walls.
“The Frost Elf has broken more than one companion’s pride,” Rhoz said.
“She had Perrin crying in this courtyard three years ago.” “I was recalibrating,” Perrin protested, though his grin betrayed him as his striped tail gave an embarrassed flick.
He looked past Aric, offering a sympathetic shrug.
“She strips away whatever ego keeps you from listening.
You cannot share a room with a client if you are worried about protecting your own pride.
Vaelisse takes a sledgehammer to it so you don’t have to worry about it anymore.” Aric thought about his trousers pooled around his ankles, his shaking knees, and the raw cry torn from him when Vaelisse finally granted permission.
Perrin had the right of it.
The provincial clerk’s pride had fractured, and a quiet, unshakeable resilience took its place.
“I survived,” Aric said.
“You did,” Rhoz agreed.
The Orc reeled his line in, finding the bare iron hook untouched.
He rested the pole against the stone and clapped a massive, calloused hand onto Aric’s shoulder.
“You eat the food, you take the hits on the basement mats, and you learn the work.
You belong here,” Rhoz said, his tone shifting into genuine, hard-earned respect.
Aric looked at the towering Orc, then at the relaxed, grinning Tanuki beside him.
He felt the cold winter air on his face and the warmth of the rune stones beneath his bare feet.
He thought about his mother sleeping safely behind a Minotaur’s guard, and the gold crown and fourteen silver locked securely in his ledger box.
He belonged here.
“Thank you, Rhoz,” Aric said, turning back to the water.
“Now, please tell me you aren’t actually going to stand out here unclothed until Kaela finishes moving the couches.” “I possess incredible stamina, Master Vale,” the Orc replied deadpan.
“I can stand here all day.”