[21] A Hopeless Romantic

Chapter 21: A Hopeless Romantic

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The light came in softly through the small window, muted by the dust that clung to the glass. It was morning.

Ros blinked against the thin, gray dawn, her senses slowly coming to life. There was warmth beneath her, a lingering heat where his body had been. She sat up, the sheets slipping away, her hand brushing across the empty space beside her. He was gone.

Of course, he was. What did you expect, Ros? She thought, the corners of her mouth twitching into a small, sad smile. She wasn't surprised. Men like him—rare, strange, kind—they never stayed. Especially not in places like this.

Still, despite herself, she found her eyes roaming across the room, glancing at the shadows where the early light had yet to reach. The dim corners were empty. She sighed and let her shoulders slump, bringing her palm up to meet her forehead in a slow, tired slap.

"Ugh, I didn’t even ask his name..." she muttered, a sigh escaping her lips. A part of her hated herself for even caring. He was a customer, after all—just another man with coins in his pouch. Yet, it didn't feel like that, did it?

Her mind whispered back, and she had no answer. No answer except the quiet ache in her chest, an emptiness that hadn't been there when she drifted off, wrapped in his warmth.

Outside the door, life was already picking up. The clamor of voices, the shuffle of feet on worn wooden floors, the madam's sharp bark as she wrangled the morning shift. Ros rubbed at her eyes, trying to shake off the heaviness that clung to her limbs. Life was calling her back, as it always did, pulling her from the warmth of that fleeting moment into the cold, indifferent reality of King's Landing.

She glanced back at the empty side of the bed, her fingers curling into the sheets, feeling the slight indentation where he had been. A man like that... he was rare. She had never spent a night like that before—a night where there were no demands, no expectations, just laughter and stories shared between strangers. Compared to her usual nights, a night where she could simply be herself, where she could cry and laugh without the weight of performance, it had felt like... heaven.

Her fingers tightened on the sheets, and she bit her lip. Would he come back? He said he would, but men said a lot of things, didn’t they? Promises whispered in the dark, forgotten by morning. She knew better than to hope. Hope was dangerous.

Hope was what got girls like her killed or worse—broken. And yet, she couldn't help it. There was something about him. Something that made her want to believe that maybe, just maybe, he was different.

She sighed, shaking her head, her auburn hair falling into her face as she tried to shake the thoughts away. Stupid girl, she chided herself, forcing her feet to the floor, the cold wood biting into her skin. You should know better by now. He probably won't come back. He probably forgot you the moment he walked out that door. She told herself that over and over, trying to bury the tiny flicker of hope that refused to die.

But deep down, in the quiet part of her heart that still dared to dream, she wanted him to come back. She wanted another night like that—another chance to be just Ros, not Ros the whore, not the girl in the brothel, but just... her.

She stood, wrapping her arms around herself, staring at the door. The morning was waiting for her, and so was the world.

Life was moving on, as it always did, dragging her along with it. But for a moment, just a moment, she allowed herself to linger in the warmth of last night, the memory of heaven she had touched, however briefly, before she stepped back into the cold reality of her life.

"Don't be stupid, Ros," she whispered to herself, the words barely audible over the noise outside. "He’s not coming back." But even as she said it, she couldn't quite convince herself.

With one last glance at the empty bed, she turned away, the faintest of smiles tugging at her lips. Maybe he wouldn’t come back. But maybe he would. And that, that tiny maybe, was enough to keep her going—enough to bring a spark of warmth to the cold morning as she opened the door and stepped back into the world.

That night, he returned like a Prince from her dreams.

****

You know what, seducing a whore was surprisingly easy. Just give her something different than what the usual men gave them.

Well… then again, that advice worked for all women, didn’t it? Attention, care, the illusion of being seen—any woman was vulnerable to these if done just right. But anyhow, that wasn’t the point.

The last two weeks had slipped by, marked by my routine visits to the brothel. Each evening, I would return to her, hiring Ros for the entire night. The look in her eyes changed to more endearing after each visit.

I honestly expected it to take longer since I wasn’t some pickup artist back in my old world, and my System didn’t have the Charisma stat. But maybe the 20 AUTH made up for it?

There had been some instances where the nobility of King’s Landing had tried to compete, trying to outpay me for her services—but alas for them, I had the capital of Dorne behind me. No lord or knight was going to outbid me. Not when I had the luxury of gold flowing like water from the sun-kissed deserts.

Ros, meanwhile, had been working just as I had envisioned. Raising herself out of the rut that was being a simple whore, striving to become something more—someone more. In just these two weeks, she’d managed to position herself to be more than another warm body to be used by the patrons of Baelish’s house of sin. She’d been pushing herself, taking up tasks that weren’t assigned to her, managing the other girls, helping with the paperwork, and being everywhere at once. And today, finally, she’d made real progress—promoted from a regular whore to a Madame.

Meaning, she didn’t have to sleep with a customer if she didn’t want to. This meant she was now in charge of others and able to delegate and command. She had power—a taste of it—and the hunger in her eyes told me she wanted more.

And I would give it to her, slowly, like a piece of bait dangling just beyond reach, enticing her to keep striving forward.

“Hey…” Ros’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, a soft whimper near my ear as she lay beside me, her breath tickling my skin. She was lying on her side, her red hair spread across the pillow, her leg thrown over my hip, her lips brushing my ear. “When are we actually doing it? I don’t mind, you know?”

I glanced at her, a smile tugging at my lips. “I told you,” I said, shrugging, “I’m not going to do it as long as it requires payment.”

She pouted, her brows furrowing. “I told you I don’t mind,” she said, her voice a little husky, a little needy.

“I do,” I replied, my tone light. “Get more promoted. Be fast about it. And then…” I leaned over, brushing my nose against hers, feeling her breath hitch, “I’ll give you the dragon that you want.”

She giggled, biting her lip, her eyes glinting with mischief. “You know,” she said, her fingers trailing down my chest, “I’d have thought you were limp down there if I hadn’t felt that thing for myself with my hand. I can’t wait to have that big boy…”

I laughed softly, shaking my head as her face moved closer, her lips parting. “A kiss, at least?” she whispered, her voice playful yet almost pleading.

I nodded, and she wasted no time. Her hands cupped my face as she pulled me in, her lips crashing against mine, her kiss filled with hunger—a need that was as much about desire as it was about something deeper, something she likely didn’t even realize she was yearning for. My hands wandered her body, tracing the curve of her waist, groping her ass, giving it a playful slap that made her moan into my mouth.

She pulled back, her eyes darkened with lust, her voice husky as she asked, “You sure you don’t want me bouncing on you already?”

I grinned, lifting a finger and pressing it to her lips. “Be a good girl, be patient,” I said. Her lips parted, and instead of replying, she took my finger into her mouth, her eyes locking onto mine as she began to suck on it, her tongue swirling around it.

“Whatever you say… my love,” she murmured around my finger, her voice muffled, her eyes never leaving mine.

“Call me master,” I corrected, my tone soft but firm. “I like that more.”

Her eyes widened for a brief moment before a grin spread across her lips, and she pulled my finger out of her mouth, her voice a purr as she said, “Sure thing, master.” She leaned in again, kissing me once more, her body moving, grinding on top of me, her breath hitching as her hips moved, seeking friction.

….

Morning came with a soft light filtering in through the curtains, the city outside beginning to wake. I stood at the edge of the bed, buttoning my shirt, my eyes flicking to the woman sprawled across the sheets, her hair a fiery halo against the pillow.

Ros yawned, stretching, her eyes blinking open, still heavy with sleep. “You know…” she murmured, her voice groggy, “you shouldn’t come from tonight forward.”

I paused, raising an eyebrow at her, an amused smile playing on my lips. “Damn, you get a promotion and already discarding me?”

She scoffed, sitting up, her eyes rolling. “You know it’s not like that,” she said, pulling the sheet around her bare shoulders. “The deal was you’d come every night to hire me so other men couldn’t. But now that I’m a Madame, I can ignore others’ requests on my own. I don’t… I don’t want you wasting your time on me. I know you’re a busy man.” She looked at me strangely for a moment and then joked, “Plus, you have those Sand girls to seduce,” she giggled before growing serious again. “Anyway, if you don’t come, I can spend that time working, speeding up my promotions.”

“Not a bad plan.”

She hesitated then, her eyes flicking down, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the sheet. “Once that’s done… we could go out for dinner… maybe? One day?” Her voice was quiet, almost shy, as she glanced up at me through her lashes.

I looked at her for a moment, her uncertainty almost endearing, and then smiled. “Of course, my dear,” I said, my voice soft.

Her face lit up, her lips curving into a smile that reached her eyes, and I felt a flicker of something—something almost like satisfaction. I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, my fingers brushing through her hair. “Take care, Ros. And be smart. Remember what we talked about.”

She nodded, her eyes serious, her lips pressing into a determined line. “I will,” she whispered.

With one last glance, I turned, pulling my hood over my head as I stepped out of the room, the door clicking softly shut behind me. Another piece moved on the board, another step taken towards what was rightfully mine.

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