𝐍𝐨 𝐅𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐞 ~ A. Hightower

II

"Hmm." A pleased moan left Maekar's lips that same morning, feeling a set of lips trailing from his cheek and down his neck. Maekar reached behind him, the fingers of his left hand tangling in the perpetrators hair.

"Good morrow, my Prince." A voice husked from behind him, and Maekar's eyes fluttered opened, looking over his shoulder at a dark skinned girl.

He didn't remember much from the night before, but he felt a vague sense of familiarity as he looked at the maiden on top of him. The room started to spin as he tried to sit up. Maekar flopped back down on the mattress and took a few deep breaths. He knew this feeling. This was not the first time he had blacked out from alcohol.

Looking around the room, he saw his armour and his clothes draped over a chair in the corner. There was a nightstand sat next to the bed he was in, and a small lantern gave the room a soft, warm glow, only because dark, wine-coloured curtains shunned the sun that threatened to peer in from the windows.

Whores were not uncommon in the towns across the seven kingdoms, almost every town held a brothel. Each brothel held an assortment of whores that would please any man or woman willing to pay the fair price. They never discriminated, they did as they were told, when they were told. If you brought the gold, they would be your best friend, lover and anything else you could imagine for the night.

Once your time ran out, of course, they would leave you alone, feeling just as empty as when you stepped through the hollow doors of the building. But brothels did not only hold the scent of sex, the clang of gold, or the taste of wine, some held something much for valuable – secrets.

In Kings Landing secrets were particularly valuable, and Maekar took pride in the secrets he gathered in those brothels. He knew almost everything that went on inside the hallowed halls, and everything that took place in the streets of the city that resided below.

"How'd I know you'd still be here when I woke?" Maekar had dragged his rough hands down the length of her face before addressing the maiden straddling his waist.

"Because I am never anywhere else." The prostitute, Tyra, looked up at Maekar through her long lashes. "Would you prefer if I pursued another?"

"No one could compare." Maekar sent the woman a small, sensual smile and trailed a finger along her jawline. "No one can fuck you like I do, my sweet."

Tyra leaned into his touch, like a lovesick child. She hummed contently, "You're just being foolish."

"If I wish to be foolish, then let us be foolish." Maekar smiled softly, pressing his lips to Tyra's. Four loud knocks on the door alerted them, and Tyra jumped to cover herself with the bedsheets as a young boy, no more than eleven walked in.

"Raemond, what is it?" Maekar asked the young boy in his service, throwing his black shirt over his head as it landed just above his knees.

"His Grace has received word of your arrival in the capital, my Prince." The boy said, glancing nervously between Maekar and the naked whore in the bed. "He's sent men to find you as Prince Daemon wouldn't tell him where you are."

"Oh fuck." Maekar groaned, thanking the boy and giving him his silver. He pulled his black breeches up over his legs and tucked his shirt into them before pulling on his boots. "Here." He held out ten gold coins to Tyra, who shook her head.

Tyra Sand was three years older than the Prince, and was the first girl the Prince ever fucked when Prince Daemon brought his eleven year old nephew into a brothel for the first time on his nameday. Tyra had entered Maekar's service after that, letting him know every nobleman, woman and heir that left this establishment.