I saved the Dragon King when he was beggar. He made me Duchess. But my father pinned me down and ripped the elven skin off my face. And gave it to my cousin Mira. He says: “You’re useless. Mira deserves that title more than you ever did.” “Now go take her place in the brothel.” Then my fiancé Dorian smiles. “Mira and I have been fucking for months. We’re getting married.” “But don’t worry. Once we’re settled, you can be our little fucktoy on the side.” I laugh. That title Mira just stole? She has no idea what hell she just traded for. ** Dorian looks at me like I’m the love of his life. “Just do what your father says.” “You’ve always been frigid anyway. At least in the brothel, you might finally learn how to be a good fuck.” I nod. “Fine.” I say yes so fast my father doesn’t even have time to react. He’s thrilled. He snaps his fingers, and servants rip the jewelry off me, pull the pins from my hair, shove me into rough peasant clothes. I stand still. I let them. “Don’t blame me,” my father sighs. “Mira’s mother’s family just got purged by the new King. Every woman in their house is being sent to the brothel.” “If anyone finds Thornwood belongings on a girl in the brothel, it’ll ruin our name.” “Once the glamour’s done, you’ll walk yourself to the brothel. Better than having the law come knocking.” “Father. Am I really your daughter?” He blinks. “What nonsense are you talking?” “Of course you’re mine. But Mira lost her mother young, and her own father despised her. She’s had it hard enough.” “And you’ll be a cum dump by then. But I’ll still fuck you sometimes. And Mira won’t mind sharing.” “See? Good days ahead.” Dorian grabs my arms and pins me to the chair. I thrash. My father pulls a blade from his belt and presses it to my hairline. Then he cuts. I scream. Dorian holds me tighter. “Shh,” he whispers against my ear. “Just bear it. It’s for Mira’s future.” He drags the blade down. Then he rips until there’s nothing left of my face but raw flesh. Blood runs into my mouth. I choke on it. My father doesn’t stop. Then he grabs my pointed, elven ears. He slices them off. The glamour mage steps in. New skin grows over the wound. Mira’s face. My father turns to the mage. “For Mira, use the painless method. The expensive one. I won’t have her hurt.” When it’s done, the mirror shows a stranger. Dorian claps his hands. “Guards, this woman is a wanted criminal. Throw her out.” He whispers to me, “We have to sell the act. Don’t blow it.” Two servants grab me and drag me toward the door. I take a deep breath and shout: “I’m Mira Ashford. I’ll walk myself!” My father and Dorian exchange a knowing smile. My father reaches out and strokes my freshly glamoured face, the one still burning with pain. “Good, Elara. You were always the obedient one. That’s why this works.” Dorian pulls a bundle from his coat. Inside: loose coins, healing salve, a book of bed tricks. Everything a whore might need in a brothel. He presses it into my arms. “I went to the brothel myself and asked what you’d need. I prepared all of this for you.” A tear drops from my eye. I walk toward the front gate. “Elara!” A scream from behind. My mother comes running, gasping for air, and throws her arms around me. “Elara, I heard you saved the Dragon King’s life. They made you Duchess?” “Oh, thank the gods. No one will ever hurt you again.” She pulls me into her arms and holds me tight. “You’ve suffered so much for my sake. Finally, it’s over.” I can’t hold it anymore. Tears pour down onto my mother’s neck. She panics, pulling back. “What’s wrong? What happened?” My father’s eyes dart away. Dorian keeps glancing at the gate. He pushes, “Hurry it up. If the law finds out, we’re done.” My mother frowns. “Finds out what?” My father says nothing. He waves for the servants to take me out. My mother’s suspicion grows. She grabs me and won’t let go. “How dare you! Elara is the Duchess of Ashgrove, named by the Dragon King himself!” A gate servant rushes in. “My lord, officers are coming this way!” My mother panics. “Officers? Why?” Dorian loses patience. He pries her fingers off me one by one. “She’s Mira now. Elara and Mira swapped faces. Look, it’s complicated, just get her out of here.” My mother screams and clutches me. She won’t let go. She looks at my father. Then at my bandaged face. She understands. She goes hysterical: “You bastard!” “It’s not enough that you never treated her like a daughter. Now you want your own child to take someone else’s place in a brothel?” “I will bash my head against this wall before I let you!” She grabs me, sobbing so hard she can barely breathe: “My sweet girl, you saved the Dragon King’s life. You earned this title with your own hands. Why would you give it away?” “Did you forget what you promised me?” I’m crying so hard I can’t speak. But I pull my hand free. I force a smile. “Mother, there are things more important than titles and reputation.” “My mind’s made up. I won’t regret this.” I push her away and stride toward the gate. She tries to follow, but the servants hold her back. Then she screams: “Elara Thornwood, if you take one more step out that gate, I’ll die right here in front of you.”
I see my mother pull a pin and press it against her own throat. My chest caves in. I force down everything I feel. I turn away from her. “You die, and you lose your title as lady of this house.” She cries harder. “”I spent years letting him walk all over me, terrified he’d divorce me. All of it was for your future. Now you’re headed to a brothel. What do I have left to fear?” I nod. “Then you don’t need to take his shit anymore. Ask for the divorce yourself.” My mother collapses to the ground. “Elara, what spell do they have on you?” My father storms over, throws a writ of divorce at her, and orders the servants to shove me out the gate. I clench my jaw and don’t look back. My mother’s wailing echoes in my ears. I tell myself: at least she’s divorced now. She’s free of the Thornwoods. Dorian doesn’t trust my mother to stay quiet. He rides in a carriage behind the officers escorting me to the brothel. He bribes the Madam with a bag of silver for a few minutes alone with me. She leaves. Then Dorian opens the door and lets three men in. “She’s supposed to be Mira Ashford,” he tells them. “Mira’s no virgin. Make it convincing.” He turns to me. His eyes are soft. “I’m sorry, Elara. It has to be real.” The three men smirk. One looks at my face and laughs. “This ugly thing? They’d better be paying double.” The first one shoves me onto the cot and rips my dress open. I scream. Something inside me snaps. Not just skin and flesh. Deeper. I feel my magic drain. The elven blood in me thrashes, then dims. The second one flips me over, grabs my hair, and slams my face into the mattress. I bite the mattress until my teeth crack. Another wave of power bleeds out of me. I want to beg. But who would I beg? My eyes find Dorian in the doorway. He’s leaning against the frame, arms crossed, watching like it’s a show. The third one is the roughest. He grabs my hips so hard I hear something crack. When it’s over, my underclothes are soaked in blood. My tongue tastes like iron. I used to be half-elf. Now I’m just half of nothing. The three men leave without a word. Dorian watches from the doorway the entire time. He pours me wine. I take a sip. It burns my bitten tongue and I cry out. Dorian kneels beside me, wiping my face with his sleeve. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” I can’t feel my legs. I slump in the chair. My voice is barely there. “What else do you want to say?” Dorian glances at the window. “Should be any moment now.” I blink. “What?” Before he finishes, someone bursts through the door in a hooded cloak. It’s Mira. She drops to her knees, tears in her eyes. “Oh, Elara, you’re willing to take my place in the brothel. I’ll repay you tenfold.” Dorian rushes to help her up. “You’re hurt. Why did you come so fast?” My numb heart cracks open again. “Blame yourself,” Mira murmurs, leaning into him. “You fucked me so hard I can barely walk.” She melts into Dorian’s arms. His hand slides over her waist, lingering. But he remembers to explain: “Elara, Mira’s only been close to me because she has to act like you now.” “Don’t worry. You’re the one I love.” I nod. “Very close indeed.” I force myself to stand. I open the door, call in the Madam’s people, and have them escorted out. The moment they’re gone, the Madam drags me to the punishment room. She says I need to see what happens to highborn girls who think they’re better than everyone else. Screams fill the air. The women being beaten blur together with the memory of my mother. In Thornwood Manor, my father beat my mother too. I remember what she used to say to me, bruised and broken. She told me: don’t be like me. No one in this world will be your shield. If you want a good life, you fight for it yourself. So I worked. I trained. Swordplay, lore, music, painting, poise, beauty. All of it. I wanted to claw my way to a future worth having. I wanted to save my mother. And today, all of it turned to dust. At the peak of my family’s power, I ended up in a brothel. My father’s betrayal. Dorian’s lies. Each one cuts like a blade. I want to cry. But I know crying won’t save me. “Mother,” I whisper. “Wait for me.” Next morning, I stand at the front door in see-through silk, calling to men like the other whores. The street is packed. Horns blaring, banners flying, a wedding procession. People whisper: “Is that the Duchess of Ashgrove marrying into House Hale?” “Yes. They say she saved the Dragon King’s life. Fed him, healed him, gave him coin when he was half-dead.” “A true heroine…” That’s my story. But it’s not mine anymore. Tears roll down. Someone in the crowd asks: “Didn’t Dorian Hale used to go boating with Lord Thornwood’s cousin? She’s in the brothel now. Why didn’t he save her?” Dorian’s face goes cold. “Watch your tongue. That woman threw herself at me shamelessly. I want nothing to do with her.” The crowd cheers. People pile on congratulations, one after another. “I hear you and the Duchess grew up together, Dorian! How many children are you planning?” Dorian turns. The wind catches the carriage curtain. Their eyes meet through the window, his and Mira’s, tender and deep.” I watch this perfect couple, and somewhere along the way, the sharp stabbing in my chest goes numb.
Soon enough, the night I go on sale comes. I haven’t fought back once. I’ve been good. Pouring wine, scrubbing floors, learning how to moan on command. The Madam is pleased. She arranges a proper auction for me. The night I step on stage, I look out and see my father, Dorian, and Mira sitting together in the crowd. When they spot me, all three breathe a sigh of relief. My first client is a lordling who tried to court me when I was still Lady Elara. I turned him down. Now He puts his filthy boot on my face. “Your cousin’s a Duchess, and you’re a whore. Funny how that works, isn’t it?” I smile my prettiest smile. “Being a whore’s not bad. Better than being a Duchess, even.” The lordling howls with laughter, eyes full of mockery. His friends poke me with their riding crops. “She’s trying so hard to save face.” “Still clinging to that little scrap of pride.” Another one spits: “Bastard-born bitch. Born to be trash.” Then a stumbling figure bursts through the door. She shoves the lordling aside and screams, voice cracking: “This is my daughter, Elara Thornwood! Not the criminal Mira Ashford!” “You’ve all got it wrong! All of you!” “She’s the Duchess. She’s the one who saved the Dragon King!” My mother looks terrible. Her skin that used to be so pale and smooth is now sunburnt and rough. Her lips tremble as she pulls my thin clothes closed over my chest, almost choking on her own sobs. “Elara. Why? Just tell me why.” “Please, come with me to the magistrate. We’ll tell them the truth.” I swallow my tears. I force myself to imitate Mira’s careless swagger. “You here for a good time too?” My mother freezes. Then cries even harder. She’s almost begging now. “Tell me the truth. Did your father threaten me to make you do this?” “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m a divorced woman now. Your father has no hold on me.” “I’m taking you to the magistrate right now. We’ll demand justice.” I look past her shoulder. “Here comes the law.” My father and Dorian rush in. My father grabs my mother by the throat and hurls her out of the brothel. Dorian bows to the lordling and his friends. “Gentlemen, this woman is my wife’s cousin. Do us a favor. Come back another night.” Through the the curtain, I see my mother thrown onto the street. She can’t get up for a long time. I swallow my tears and follow the Madam into the punishment room. She says I caused trouble. I need to be taught a lesson. After that, I’m moved to the back. Days hauling water and scrubbing pots. Nights sleeping on the floor. No one comes for me anymore. I hear my mother came back a few more times. I sent word. Told her to pretend I’m dead. The back is exhausting. But it’s quiet. That doesn’t last. The lead courtesan dies, and the Madam is short on girls. She drags me back to the front and puts me up again. This time, the one who picks me is someone I know.
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