How much a day changes? Everything.
Ten years ago.
My Mother was a whore of some renown in Tubor, graced with beauty it was said her gaze alone could stop any man in the street. It is was also said I took after her, but I do not see it. I have never had her effect on men. In fact, it has always been quite the opposite. Perhaps this is why I take such offence when I find that term directed my way. Offence. Understatement. My blood boils.
With large blue eyes that are still full innocent and a head full of curls, my brother was doted on by everyone in the block. Spoiled. Most definitely, it was rare that a day went by without some passing merchant or client didn’t drop off a sugar-sweet for him. Whilst I was full of mischief and always causing no end of trouble for my Mother, he was so good and sweet. And somehow, I never hated him for it. We were just always so different.
My Mother had a very select list of clientèle who were willing to pay a substantial sum of money for her services. Nobles from abroad. Gentry sometimes. The Red Claw was always very selective as to who he allowed to see her. None-the-less, we lived a good, if somewhat, unusual life, my brother and I. We were educated and I had just started learning to read. Some of my Mother’s more preferred clients took to me and offered me lessons in the Lithmorran tongue. Looking back on it now, perhaps I was being groomed.
One such day I was reading in the library. I was meant to be looking after my brother but instead I had become engrossed in a new book. My Mother with a new client that she had reluctantly taken on – she rarely took on anyone new people these days. Finding my attention lacking, he wandered off and ran to him on the stairway.
The Noble was drunk. I think. And he took insult in something my Brother said. Not the right title, or not enough bowing. I don’t know what the fuck it was. But what ever imagined slight he saw resulted in him giving my Brother a smack across the head. Hard enough that he went flying… down the stairs. I flew at the Noble, enraged. I remember getting smacked and the rest of the night, well it was a blur.
He never opened his eyes again.
And neither did my Brother.
