The Black Stag

When it was first seen by the Courtesan, the building had already stood for over a hundred years. Countless residents had claimed it as theirs, only to sell it or have it sold for them when they had left the area or realm all together.

Victoria Helmshaw had not cared who had lived, or died, there. She could still remember the day, some six years ago, when she first laid eyes on the building that had served as a home and...or a business to others. It had stood with dark windows on a sunny, cold Winter morning. Not a curtain to its bleak windows. Ivy, partially dead and partially alive, clung feebly along the right grey- and brown-stone outer wall. No smoke wafted from its chimneys. No carriage or horses were in the carriage house and stalls. The place was in utter neglect but Victoria loved it.

It was a sturdy place with a stout, if not shadowed, heart. For a single purse full of gold, it had come into her hands. It was hers, to improve upon or to burn. None would seem to care, but she did.

With the employ of masons, carpenters, and more it took a full year before the Black Stag was fit to accept the Courtesan, her handful of servants, and any guests. Rich, thick curtains of embroidered satin and others of velvet now hung at the windows. Shingles had been replaced. Horses, carriage, and tack now suitably filled the carriage house and stalls. From roof to cellar, everything had been scrubbed and cleaned, and what was damaged was either repaired or replaced all together.

It would come to be more than a place of business for the Courtesan. It was to be her home, and home to the few she employed.

For those that ventured within, by mistake, dare, or with forthright purpose, they would not find some dark, sinful house of ill repute. It was a place that would rival the delicacies and beauty of a wealthy woman?s home. Parlors, library, dining hall, bed chambers, kitchens, and even a solar were within that home.

A place of respite and more.

Ileste turned about to regard her lady with a smile of her own. She carried the dress towards her, then pulled out an under dress and a red and black whalebone corset. ?Ohh, it sounds as if your time was well spent, my lady. Will you tell me about it?? Her maid seemed on the verge of salivating to simply here the merest detail more on the subject.

The courtesan said nothing while the undergarments were tied into place and the dress pulled over her head and arms threaded into the slender sleeves of it. While the sleeves were secured and laced, she smiled. ?I met a woman last night that seemed, by all marks and appearances, to be of allure and interest to me.?

?Then she must be very beautiful.? Softly, Ileste cooed her exclamation to her lady. Then she stepped around her to maneuver the corset about the courtesan?s waist and begin to cinch it very snuggly in place. ?Is she strong or weak? Bold or shy??

Laughter filled the room, just short of being raucous. ?Ileste, you are incorrigible.? A lifting hand smoothed back her own, presently unkempt hair. She sucked in a deeper breath with the next try to allow Ileste to pull the cords and laces of the corset that much tighter. A pinch of flesh made her flinch and she swiftly reached back and swatted Ileste?s arm. ?Care now!?

?Please forgive me, my lady.? A more meek tone was taken, but the efforts were not thwarted and continued with getting the corset snug about her lady?s already slender waist. ?Please, will you tell me more about the lady you met??

?She is strong, by all appearances and does not seem to be the sort to be shy, though I saw a moment that made me wonder if such things were possible in her character and nature.? Victoria glanced at her over her shoulder. ?She was tending the bar and the Red Dragon last night.?
?She was?? Ileste?s eyes lit with pure curiosity and interest. ?Will you see her as a client or..more??

?Yes, she was.? At the corner of her mouth, the courtesan smiled. ?She has within her things that draw me to possibly take her as more. As one of the few that I wish close to me in my loneliness without the interest of coin passing between us.?

?Ohh, that is lovely, my lady.? She leaned forward to touch lips to her lady?s shoulder very, very briefly. ?I know your suffrage. But does she know your ways?? Concern seemed to have been heard in her maid?s voice and Victoria nodded. ?She says that she understands, or at least knows of the ways of what I am.?

The Soiree

It was to be an evening of Dukes, Duchesses, and Dregs?

Thus was the way in which she saw that it would be for the evening. The Courtesan had been whom and what she was since she was girl younger than one that would have needed a stomacher on a dress. And she had been to countless dinners, festivals, and other public shows of wealth and clout.

Victoria Helmshaw was entirely prepared for this evening, even if it was to be a little different than the accustomed stuffed shirts and perfect-life displays or unkempt drama. For the Courtesan, these were as much doldrums as they were excitement for her. Such simply depended upon whom it was coming from and what the elements of the situation were.

There was always reason and purpose with a Courtesan, from the arrangement of her hair to the style of garment and even the smallest of accessories. The evening, she had been particular in her preference of rings: large, ornate, and lidded with a cask and trap for a bit of perfumed cloth in it. One never knew the state of dress or undress of another person?s guests or, bluntly, if they would be overly perfumed ? or terribly under-perfumed. That small trinket might save her from a true, swooning moment that she saw no need or purpose for. As almost always, she had with her a velvet purse and satin-with-lace handfan at her right wrist. A dress of expensive red was worn that evening with roses embroidered above the right breast in white silk. The mark was simple but drew the eye not only to the design but to the corset, to the corset and how it encouraged of her form.


She had already endured her private small, early evening dinner with the Magistrate and while he was romping about with one of his chamber girls, Victoria strolled through the overly-done manse to look about the gaudy corridors and rooms. Eventually, she ventured out into the inner courtyard that was hemmed by gardens that sprawled in seemingly every direction beyond the courtyard?s flagstones.


Tall, marble pillars bore stone braziers at their tops; blazing with ?Greek fire? that would keep burning all night. As many as twenty of them stood throughout the courtyard to highlight and warm the area. At the center of the area was a fountain that would have been risqu? by most people?s standards ? and in some of those areas ?they were far darker in their attitudes and ways than others. The fountain was only a single, large-based tier but it was at its middle that the two lovers were in throws of passion.

That query brought about amusement that she allowed from herself to him. ?Why all of them are my favorite, your Highness! To have to chose even just one of them over the others is like trying to chose any of my clients over the others. ? On that note, she smiled to him and right fingers and thumb smoothly spread the handfan of satin and lace. She put it to good use, to stir and perfume the air between them. He was not one of those reasons to perfume the air to keep ill scents at bay, but to draw him nearer.

?Now, I say, you are a lady of some interest to me if your true thinking is such.? He let that pass with a moment of silence afterwards just to see if there would be any negativity on the matter from her. Then he took a step forward. ?And a guest of the Magistrate?s.. well.?

Another pause, for dramatics, the courtesan would presume. ?Yes, I am. As you are, it would seem ? if I may hazard that guess.?

The prince nodded, obliging her that much.

They both paused for a moment or two as they saw several men in attire of gentry enter the inner courtyard carrying instruments of variable quality and sound. Minstrels, by muted assessment from both of them, they turned back to one another to continue with their conversation.

?Please, if you would do me the honor, tell me?what is your name?? He was far too friendly in his manner and rhetoric for a stranger, but Victoria was more than accustomed to such things. She drew out these ways in men. And women.

?I am Victoria Helmshaw, Courtesan and Proprietor of the Black Stag.?
?Oh! So you are the Dame of the Black Stag! Whispers have reached even the castle -- and some of its outposts.? Prince Martyn grinned down at her like a wolf ready to eat a lamb.

?My... I am impressed. I had thought others far more of interest. Especially in these lands. But what of their wives. Have their wives heard of me and the Black Stag,hmm?? Back to him, she reflected that same grin though hers was more delicately displayed.