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Disclaimer: Mature Chapters

Hi folks!

Thank you so much for choosing to read Ashes & Bloom. Having the opportunity to share my story with others honestly means everything to me. 🥲♥️

Some chapters are marked as mature due to the themes explored within them. While this story contains romance and intimacy, it also engages with heavier subjects to support world-building and character development. 

These themes include: 

𐫱 Sexual violence and sexual abuse (non-graphic, implied)

𐫱 Physical and emotional abuse

𐫱 Blood and violence

𐫱 Strong language

I do not write explicit depictions of sexual violence/abuse. These scenes are handled through implication and atmosphere rather than a detailed, step-by-step description. My intention is to acknowledge the weight of these experiences without sensationalising them. 

The relationship between the MC & ML is gentle, passionate, and 100% consensual. Given their tragic backstories and the otherwise grim shit that takes place in this world, it felt important to me to create soft moments of intimacy and understanding between them. 

Please take care of yourselves while reading, and don’t hesitate to step away if you need to. Your well-being always comes first!

Sugar Water

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Incense smoke curled lazily through the air of the Praecia Veil, carrying the mingled scent of roses and sweat. Cain Solaris sat in front of a golden mirror, lightly brushing powder over his face. His hands moved with deliberate care, tracing the sharp lines of his cheekbones and the sculpted curve of his jaw. For a moment, he lingered on the fragile beauty that had become both his shield and his weapon.

It hadn’t always been like this.

Once, he’d been a bright-eyed child who looked upon the world with wonder. The kind of boy who would cradle injured sparrows in his hands, who climbed trees barefoot and sat beside his father pretending to read, eyes darting over pages he couldn’t yet understand. Their house had been modest, but never cold. It had warmth, laughter, and the scent of earth and bread.

At six years old, he’d help his mother in the garden, pressing tiny seeds into damp soil, waiting for them to bloom. Sometimes he’d sneak flowers into his room and tuck them into a chipped vase by his window. His mother always found them, feigning anger at the plucked stems before softening and adding a spoonful of sugar to the water to make them last a little longer.

He’d always known how to find beauty in small, fleeting things. But the day someone found beauty in him, that beauty became his undoing. Whether they cared was irrelevant; they saw only profit in his softness, only dollar signs in what made him human. And so, piece by piece, they dismantled it, stripping away something precious, simply because they could.

Such was life in Seviel: beautiful things never lasted long enough to be remembered properly.

Now, this was Cain’s life, and beneath the surface, a quiet ache lingered, an unspoken longing for something beyond the Veil’s shadows, which made his current existence feel even more isolating.

He had lived at the Praecia Veil for fourteen years. His family was a group of courtesans, mostly girls younger than he was, trained to smile as if a curve of the lips could ward off fate. However, once a woman turned twenty-five, her value plummeted. Patrons craved youth and the illusion of innocence, so when the age came, Madam Lucinda held her private auctions.

She sold the pretty ones into fortune, wrapped in jewels and silk that gleamed like stolen sunlight. The less fortunate were married off quietly, considered more useful to society as wives and mothers. And those who drew no offers? They were quietly removed from the Praecia Veil and shipped off to… well, only God knew the answer to that, and honestly, no one cared. It was nothing personal; the city just had a habit of recycling broken things into stories no one wanted to hear.

At twenty-two, Cain sometimes wondered what would become of him. There had been a time when he’d promised himself he’d run, vanish into some far-off countryside, live quietly, free from incense and perfume, away from velvet and vice. Maybe he’d move from place to place whenever the air grew stale.

He’d have no address, no name, just freedom.

But that dream had withered years ago.

Whatever was meant to happen would. Perhaps he’d be sold to some wealthy pervert and used as a forbidden indulgence in this church-ruled world where men loving men was a sin. He’d be the quiet shadow in someone else’s house, the body they reached for when the lights were dim and the wife was asleep. It honestly wouldn’t be much different from now.

Or maybe Madam’s heart would soften since she’d always favoured him? After all, he was her prized investment. Surely she wouldn’t cast him aside so easily?

Then again, in the Praecia Veil, affection was just another transaction, and Cain had long since learned not to mistake mercy for love. 

A soft knock interrupted the quiet.

Cain’s eyes lifted, catching the movement through the mirror as Claudia Syagre entered, soft curls tumbling over her shoulders, eyes bright as sunlight dancing around the city rooftops. She perched herself on the edge of the bed like a restless sprite, silk rustling around her legs.

“That’s it. In what world is this fair?!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

“I’ve honestly spent hours getting ready,” she continued. “I’m so exhausted, and the doors haven’t even opened yet. Do you have any idea what I go through? My hair, my makeup, my outfit, ugh. Hours, Cain. And all you have to do is wake up, and you look… like that.”

While slightly dramatic, Claudia was a sweet girl—bright and bubbly with a heart the Veil hadn’t yet completely ruined. Men adored her delicate frame, snow-white hair, and the way she made ruin look accidental. She knew how to play her part, but around those she trusted, the mask slipped. And it just so happened that out of all the courtesans, she was the closest to Cain.

Cain tilted his head, smirking faintly.

Claudia groaned dramatically. “Why can’t tiny bluebirds just fly through my window and do all the work for me? Do you have any idea how much easier that would make my life?”

“I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again—you really do live in your own little fantasy world,” Cain responded, dragging the powder brush across his cheekbone. “But… if you do ever figure out a way to make that happen, I’d like to borrow a couple of birds. I don’t have time for this either.”

Claudia arched a brow, grin curling. “What, powdering your nose and combing your hair?”

“Mmn,” Cain mumbled, slicking his hair back. “I slept like shit again last night. I really wish there were more hours in the day.”

Her tone softened. “The nightmares… are they?”

“They don’t happen often,” Cain replied, eyes fixed on his reflection. “But when they do… It’s honestly like I blink and somehow an entire night has disappeared.”

Claudia shifted closer, smoothing her gown over her knees. “Cain, I’m worried. You’re not sleeping, and you’ve lost weight again. Please… at least eat something tonight, or Lucinda will scold you if you faint in front of a customer.”

Cain’s hand stilled mid-motion, the comb resting between his fingers. “I’ll eat later.”

“That’s what you said yesterday,” Claudia teased, though her voice carried a note of worry. “If you don’t take care of yourself, then who’s going to keep those rich bastards entertained? We need you here. Well… I don’t, exactly. But the others do. They need someone to show them how to empty a few pockets and toss the creeps out on their asses.”

Cain’s lips curved, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. “Well,” he said, “I can try, but I guess that kind of charm just comes naturally.” 

Claudia laughed, “Hey! I have plenty of charm. I’m only trying to make you feel better. I’m just saying, you make it far too easy for them.”

He turned toward her, tapping the comb absently against his palm. “Some things come easily,” he said with a faint smirk. “The rest…” His voice dipped, “The rest takes fourteen years of practice in a place like this.”

Claudia sighed, stretching back on Cain’s bed. “Sometimes I forget how long we’ve been here. That explains why you make it look effortless.”

Cain offered her a quiet smile. “Speaking of effortless, you seemed to do pretty well for yourself last night. Who was that man? Ten gold coins, and neither of you left the bar? Spill.”

Claudia’s eyes sparkled as she recounted her evening. “Oh, him! He said his name was Ervyn, but I’ve never seen him here before. Strange, right? But it didn’t seem like it was his first time visiting a place like this. Maybe he was from the Capital.”

Cain furrowed his brows.

Claudia continued, “He seemed like he just wanted some company, though… What if he’d recently lost a lover? Oh, the poor thing!”

“Be careful,” Cain interjected. “You’ve heard the rumours, haven’t you? About people in Xaweth accusing us of witchcraft, of all things. Even child sacrifices. You never know what stories people will take back to their precious priest.”

Claudia waved him off. “Oh, no. I can promise you we didn’t talk about anything like that. I spent most of the time telling him how handsome and powerful he is. And so what if they want to believe we’re all demons and witches? In the end, I spun him a whole bunch of shit, didn’t sleep with him, and still walked away with enough money to take the rest of the night off.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Cain said softly. “Let’s hope fate is that kind to both of us again tonight.”

“Oh! Did you hear? The girls said Lucinda beat Sorscha senseless after last night. She failed to make any more again, so now she has to wait for her black eye to heal and use this time to reflect on her mistakes.” 

Claudia always had good intentions, but she also had an unfortunate habit of never knowing when to shut up. Cain, growing tired of Claudia’s idle gossip, leaned back slightly and replied, “Then let’s not repeat Sorscha’s mistakes. Good luck tonight, Claudia.”

“Good luck!” she said, brushing lightly against his shoulder before exiting, the door closing softly behind her.

Outside, Seviel’s streets festered in their own decay, thick with the stench of rot and sewerage. Inside, candles flickered behind silk curtains, shadows swayed to the rhythm of soft laughter, and the air itself seemed to hum with a sense of desire. The Praecia Veil was a sanctuary of indulgence: velvet over vice, perfume over decay. And truly, it said everything about Seviel that its finest establishment was one where affection came with an hourly rate. 

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Crimson Fruit, Golden Chains: In Greek Mythology, Hades abducted Persephone, the daughter of Demeter, to be his wife in the underworld. Demeter’s grief-fueled search for her daughter caused the seasons to stop and the earth to become barren. Hades eventually tricked Persephone into eating pomegranate seeds, which forever bound her to the underworld for 6 months every year.