Elise wasn’t the only one working when I showed up at The Wayward Widow. Three other girls were already perched on the balcony above, all of them eyeing the common room like vultures circling a carcass. Word was out: a ship was docking. That meant sailors, passengers, all with pockets full of coin and minds emptied of better judgment. Cypress was practically foaming at the mouth.

I wore the blue dress. I was ready for anything. I was still a server, technically, but today I needed options. I needed attention. And maybe just a little bit of luck.

Would today be the day I walked up those stairs with someone from that ship?

Gods, I hoped not. But I wasn’t ruling it out.

The bracelet kept me cool, even in the growing heat. One small mercy in a day that promised all kinds of compromises.

I slid onto the barstool beside Elise, scanning the room with the same tired hunger as the entertainers.

“Nope,” Elise said immediately, grabbing my wrist and dragging me up the stairs.

“I’m not doing anything!” I hissed, tugging at my hem as it bunched around my hips.

“I know that look,” she whispered. “And I know that dress.”

“It’s not for me. It’s for Clara.” I no longer bothered to lie properly.

Her eyes softened. “We all have someone we’re trying to protect. But once you start… he won’t let you stop.”

She leaned in close, breath warm against my ear.

“There’s always a way out. Trust the Gods once in a while.”

I barked a bitter laugh. “The Gods have long since turned their backs. I’m out of time, Elise. I’m out of options.”

“One day.” She kissed my cheek. “Stay a wench one more day. Decide tomorrow.”

“What good is one more day?”

“None,” she smiled. “But at least it won’t ruin today.”

I stared at her, hating how much I needed that sliver of grace.

“One day,” I muttered.

She nodded. “One day.”

The ship docked. Sailors poured in. So did gold.

The Widow was packed by sundown, louder and rowdier than it had been in weeks. My dress did its job. And the bracelet made me the only girl not sweating through her bodice. Tips flowed, mugs were swapped, and hands wandered. I turned with a flirtatious smile each time, played the part, and earned the coins. Cheap tricks, cheap thrills. But hells, they worked.

I was grateful for a night when I had to move, keep busy, and serve my mugs and stew. I was feeling restless and down, but I found it good to be working and didn’t mind being on my feet.

Cypress couldn’t stop grinning. Elise was busy. The entertainers were all working overtime. I didn’t let myself think about anything. I just focused on the work. Just breathed. Just bent at the hips and flashed a smile like my future wasn’t dangling by a single fraying thread.

It was after midnight when things finally started to settle. The crowd thinned, the whores retreated upstairs, and the noise dulled to a soft buzz.

That’s when Elise found me.

“Are you going to talk to them?” she asked, nodding toward the far corner of the room.

Two men. Elves. One a tall, bald Moon Elf with violet eyes and cheekbones sharp enough to shave with. The other was shorter. He was a Drow, with obsidian skin that shimmered like oil and eyes like twin moons. They wore cloaks, which was weird enough, and beside them sat overstuffed knapsacks.

“I’ve already served them,” I said. “They barely drank.”

“They asked about you,” Elise said. “The Drow. When he was… You know. With me.”

“Well, that’s romantic,” I muttered. “Asking about other women mid-thrust.”

“He didn’t ask for you,” she said quietly. “He asked for the daughter of Gallis Elaro.”

My spine stiffened.

“They asked about my father?”

“No,” she said. “They asked about you.”

I stared at the two of them. Not human. Not locals. And they knew his name.

I made my way across the floor and dropped into the seat opposite them.

The tall one looked me over. “How much?” he asked.

“I’m Jolana Elaro,” I replied flatly.

They exchanged looks. Then the Drow muttered, “Gods. You look just like him. The hair, the jaw… You are his daughter.”

The Moon Elf leaned back. “We should’ve started with drinks. You’re not, uh, working, are you?”

I stood. “No.”

The Drow shot to his feet. “Wait, please. Sit. Please.”

I did. Slowly.

“What about my father?”

“We work with him,” the tall one said. “I’m Vaeril Oribella. That’s Dain.”

“Dain Sarrora,” the Drow said, offering his hand.

I shook it. His smile was sharp, along with his fangs.

“You work with him?”

“Work for him,” Dain said. “That’s why we’re here.”

“I didn’t even know he was alive.”

Vaeril blinked. “He’s been sending you money for three and a half years.”

My stomach dropped. “We haven’t gotten a single copper. Not a letter. Nothing.”

Dain looked genuinely horrified. “But he said you’d be expecting us. We thought you’d be waiting at the dock.”

Vaeril frowned. “You’re sure you haven’t received anything? No parcels? No one’s contacted you?”

“Nothing.” Panic started rising in my throat. “Is someone intercepting it? Cypress? The Duke?”

“We’ll find out,” Dain said. “We’ll send word back. He needs to know. By the Gods…” His gaze ran over me again. “Have you… Are you?”

“No,” I snapped. “Don’t let the outfit fool you.”

Vaeril chuckled. “You really are his daughter.”

“So, he’s alive?”

“Yes,” Dain said. “But he needs your help.”

I felt something tightening in my chest. Like a rope, pulling me up from the bottom of a well.

“He needs me?”

“Not here,” Vaeril said. “We need to talk. Privately.”

“I’ll do whatever he needs,” I said. “Anything.”

“Easy now,” Vaeril smiled. “Let’s start with a conversation.”

“Jolana!” Cypress’s voice cracked across the tavern like a whip. “If you’re not serving drinks, then I suggest you go earn your room!”

Vaeril’s jaw flexed.

“That’s Cypress,” I muttered. “My family’s debt was sold to him. He’s been bleeding us ever since.”

Dain narrowed his eyes. “Figures.”

Vaeril stood, straightening his cloak. “We sail on the morning tide. If you want answers, come with us.”

I looked between them. Between the bar. Between everything I hated and everything I hadn’t dared hope for.

“My father,” I said quietly. “He’s alive?”

Dain nodded. “And he’s waiting.”

And for the first time in a long, long time, I wasn’t just the daughter, the sister, the whore.

I was Jolana Elaro again.

And I had something to fight for.