Just like before, Reverie and the Garden adjusted quickly to the new circumstances. Though it was easy to do once or twice, Reverie quickly found that she could not use her magic in such a way too frequently or she would still exhaust herself. That didn't change the fact, however, that there really were quite a few customers eagerly trying to buy nights with her. If the dowager hadn't been trying to uphold the image of the Garden as a higher class brothel, she may very well have forced Reverie to take as many customers as would pay a night, like other places did. Luckily, she and Ilysia managed to convince her that it would be more profitable to pick customers from a raffle. Many paid for three or four tickets, each priced as much as an hour long service, and the novelty of it drew much attention. Within a few months, Reverie was easily the biggest attraction the Garden had to offer. In order to maintain her secret way of dealing with these customers, Reverie worked to keep them asleep for longer and longer periods of time. 

Usually the customer would come, spend an hour or so talking to her as though she was still an apprentice working a party, and then after a few moments of their lustful advances, she would use her magic. So far, she had managed to keep most of them asleep for several hours. While they slept, she read or worked with her magic. Only Anette and Ilysia knew the truth about her work, but her reputation grew and spread like wildfire. She was quickly known as the woman who could make you feel like a new man, not just pleasure but also a feeling of refreshment and renewed energy! 

Beau, to her horror, was one of her most frequent patrons. Worse still, was the fact that he wanted to be intimate while they spoke, and Reverie wasn't able to avoid this torture. He would spend hours telling her information, which she still had an interest in, but he would also talk to her as if they were true lovers. He wanted to know what she liked, her thoughts, her dreams. Beau's visits were a special kind of torment for her, and she always did her best to speed things towards their inevitable end, so that she could at least avoid touching and speaking to him. She hoped he would be married soon, and that she might have some respite from him. 

In the meantime, she continued to build her reputation and leveraged it as a tool to collect information. Information, she was quickly learning, was more valuable than she had ever imagined. The new dynamic between her and the customers meant they often divulged much more than they had before. Reverie knew about every scandal from the affairs of several royal knights, to the very real human trafficking ring that was growing steadily in the western areas of the kingdom. Within three months she'd gathered enough to pressure the dowager into not just naming Ilysia her successor, but into stepping down as well. 

The transition was smooth. Most of the women in the Garden were only superficially involved in politics anyway. There were some changes, though, that no one could ignore. One of the first things that Ilysia did was to create contracts for all of the apprentices. This alone was unusual for a brothel, but what Ilysia put in the contracts caused quite a stir. In order to work at the Garden, all of the girls took on the debt of their education in full. Before, they simply worked in exchange for their keep and being taught the job, if they stopped working or displeased the dowager they were kicked out. Simple as that. Now, they were indentured by their debt to the Garden. This meant that until they paid back their debt, they couldn't leave. On the other side of it though, Ilysia couldn't simply kick out apprentices she didn't favor, or girls that fell victim to the jealousy of other apprentices. It had happened before that particularly lovely girls, who hadn't fallen in with the right groups, were injured and scarred by the other apprentices. This of course, meant that they couldn't work with customers. And unless they were lucky enough to be kept on as maids, they were turned out. The stigma of having worked in a brothel alone, would keep them from reputable employment, but the scars were yet another obstacle for them in the outside world. Most of these girls had been left at the Garden by their unknown parents or had come to work in order to pay off a family debt. Although it seemed harsh, Ilysia's contract offered a sense of security that hadn't previously existed. Reverie knew that Ilysia's plans ran even further. With the information Reverie, and even some of the others, were gathering, Ilysia planned to procure licensing as a proper guild. Doing this would mean that she would be allowed to hire tutors for the apprentices. Not just retired whores, but proper teachers. Reverie knew of at least a dozen former professors, who had been forced into the last expansion war, and left unfit to teach at the usual academies. Nobles wouldn't let their children be taught by decrepit men missing limbs, and merchants didn't have the status to take on the risk of a tutor recovering from an addiction to Pleasure's Grasp. These teachers may not have taken the work in their pasts, but now Ilysia was offering them a ray of light in an endless abyss. As a guild, she would also be able to pass an apprentice's contract on to another, willing guild. Some of the apprentices, Ilysia reasoned, would prove to have unexpected talents if properly educated. No reason to chain them to the life of a prostitute, if they could be successful elsewhere. Ultimately, she planned to take in boys as well. It was a widely known secret that many of the Shavais upper class had a taste for men, and unlike the girls, most of the boys on the street were simply abducted by those who wanted them, and abused. Reverie hated her work, detested the men who came to her, but she took a certain pride in it too. So long as she did her part, she could tell herself there was some good coming from the life she was growing wearier of by the day. 

"Reverie, you've got a new client." One of the girls she'd grown up with poked her head into Reverie's room, she no longer shared with anyone. The girl, a brunette named Gaia, was one of the workers who preferred to stay out of anything complicated. Reverie liked her, because she was rather genuine. 

"A new client? I didn't know we'd had a lottery." Reverie said aloud, mostly to herself. Gaia still answered.

"Mm, no I'm pretty sure he came directly from the dowager's office. Probably just paid an obscene amount. Must be nice, being so damn charming. You're as plain as I am, but you're not sharing a room anymore." Gaia groused. Reverie shrugged lazily, as she finished tying the loose robe she wore when she worked. It was easier to get on and off than a regular dress, though it was just as lovely to look at. 

"I'd give you my clients, and the room." She said, but Gaia waved her hands in dismissal.

"No thanks, honestly I'm just complaining because it feels good. I'm perfectly happy having only a couple customers to fake it with, it's worth sharing the room." Gaia sighed, and looked longingly at the quiet space behind Reverie.

"So you say. If you go into town for me tomorrow, and pick up my orders from the shops, you can stay here until I'm done working." Reverie offered, Gaia only came to deliver messages to Reverie before shop day. Despite what she said, she liked having a room to herself for a while. Gaia beamed.

"It would be my pleasure, madame." She bowed dramatically as Reverie walked out of the room. Reverie smiled at her, but as soon as the door was shut, her thoughts turned to this new client. If Ilysia had sent him, she doubted it was just because of money. She took a few breaths, relaxing and stretching her magic in preparation, and then headed for her work quarters. The Garden is a huge place, technically made up of a total of four manors, they formed a square around the inner garden that the brothel was named after. It had only gotten so large, because of the higher end clientele, and now it was on its way to being a guild. If that happened, Reverie mused, they'd be the wealthiest guild in the city. 

Putting that aside, she made her way down two sets of stairs, and entered her working room through a back door. It was dimly lit, with a number of paintings, tapestries, and other miscellaneous decorations. There were two couches, and a table as well. The centerpiece was, of course, the bed. It had a canopy, and too many pillows. It was as soft as her actual bed, and the blankets were deceptively good looking, the fabric was actually rather cheap as bedsheets in a brothel tend to have short lives. As soon as she entered, she could tell that the client was already there. He was sitting , his head bowed and his hands pressed against his forehead, on one of the couches. Reverie had a look at his general mood, and was surprised to see he was quite upset. She hesitated to come any closer, but the man called out to her. His hair was a brilliant blond, but his voice belied his older age. 

"I know you've come." He said, the deep timbre of his voice raising the hairs on her arms. He was broad, and as she came closer, she could see he had a sword with him. She forced herself to believe Ilysia would not have set her up, after all Reverie was her most useful tool. 

"My apologies, my lord, I was simply struck by your presence." Reverie said, she didn't smile or make her words too sweet. Instead, as she walked around to the front of him, she just bowed her head before sitting herself comfortably across from him. Judging from his mood, and posture, he wasn't here for anything physical. As she sat, she could see that he had a dark shadow on his jaw, he must not have shaved in recent days, and he had pretty blue eyes deeply set in a well lined face. He was handsome, she decided. He stared at her as well, clearly studying her, though she was interested to see that he only looked at her face. He was old enough to be her father, but that wasn't unusual even for her regulars. 

"It's a good line, you've been taught well." He said dryly. She smiled politely, her temper rousing at his sarcastic remark.

"I'm a good student, blessed with fine teachers. How may I help you this night, my lord? Surely you won't disappoint me, and stay so unfamiliar the entire time." She prodded at him, knowing his lack of interest. It certainly wasn't that she wanted him either, but his derision grated on her nerves. Who was this old man, to judge her or any of the women here? Why not turn that snide voice on the men who paid for their services?

"Would that disappoint you? I'd hope not. Gods around, what your parents would think." He muttered to himself, and Reverie's temper flared to life. It was rare, for her to be so angry.

"I'd imagine someone your age would probably know. Or is that why you're here? To tell me that you're my father, come to rescue me after all these years? Spare me your judgement, righteous lord, and tell me your business." She spat, folding her arms in front of her chest. She leveled him with her most withering glare, and refused to look away when he made eye contact. She saw a great number of things flash through his eyes, and could feel how unstable his mood was, but she remained unmoved. The man rubbed his face with a heavy hand, and a heavier sigh, before speaking again.

"I deserve that, I'm sorry. I'm not your father, and I've no right to judge you. I'm not judging you. It's just, Gods, I did know your father. And your mother. You look just like her." He said, and everything around Reverie froze. She could tell from his speech, and the quality of his clothes and sword, that he was of higher rank than she was used to dealing with. Ilysia having sent him, despite his foul attitude, had signaled that he was valuable for the information he had. She'd expected…well, anything but this. 

"I see, is that what you've come to tell me? That I look like my dead mother?" She asked. He looked surprised.

"You know that she's dead?"

"I do." She kept staring at him, even as his eyes fell to the floor and his face crumpled in grief.

"Forgive me, I know that I've set the tone of our conversation lady Reverie. But I assure you, I did not come here to disrespect you. I came to see if you really are Theira's daughter, and if you were, I planned to ask your help." He spoke honestly, and though he hadn't outright apologized, Reverie felt some of her anger abate. 

"Why would you need help from Thiera's daughter?" She asked, her magic and her muscles tensed and coiled tight. They looked at each other in silence for several breaths before he finally spoke.

"There were rumors, about you. That you can charm a man without even looking at him. Thiera was the same. I am hoping that you are charming for the same reasons she was, my lady. If you've even a bit of her magic, I'd trade my life to borrow it." He answered. Reverie's heart hammered in her chest. This was why Ilysia had sent him to her. This was her decision, and she could only assume Ilysia was going to respect it. She could kill him, probably, to hide her secret. That option came to her first, but she still didn't want to kill anyone. She swallowed several times, before standing and going to the table, for the wine. She didn't usually drink, unlike the other girls her age who delighted and even relied on it. Still, she felt like now was an appropriate time.

"What would you borrow it for?" She asked, after draining a glass. It was too sweet, and yet not sweet at all, but it made her feel like an adult. Like she could handle the situation. The man frowned at the glass.

"You're too young to drink." He chided. She snorted.

"Does that matter? I'm not too young for anything else, in this place. Answer my question, before I kill you." She threatened, and she was a little bit serious. He studied her face again, and she hoped he couldn't see the part of her that wasn't serious. If he saw her bluff, he chose not to call it.

"That answer is complicated, and I can give you details later if you agree. But the gist of it is this, my son and my ward are both dying. There is some kind of magic tangling the two of them together, old Whispered magic, and their souls are withering away under its grip." He explained. 

"Why should I care? Boys die all the time."

"Will you believe what I say? If I'm to explain anything, I'd be taking a risk. Can you at least promise me you'll listen in good faith." He said, and gestured for her to sit back down. She refilled her glass and did so.

"I'll listen to you in good faith. However, even that will cost you." 

"Ha!" He laughed, "You're Etienne's girl all right. What's your price then?" He asked, and Reverie resisted the urge to ask who Etienne was. Her father, probably, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her curiosity.