A Blossom of Flames

Valentina turned the precious vials in her hands. The Essence shimmered in them like liquid moonlight. Two vials – that might get her through the next two weeks if she used them sparingly. But then what?

"A worryingly low supply," Vyxara remarked. "Especially given the fact that your usual sources have dried up."

"I know," Valentina thought grimly. Barnaby was in the Illumination's dungeons, and even if he was still free – after their last encounter, she wouldn't have visited his store anyway. Professor Horne was no longer an option either. And the legal route via the official dealers? She snorted bitterly. The prices there were unaffordable for her.

She opened the small, ornately carved casket that the duke had given her. Inside were her most precious possessions – the jewelry she had received in Dusktown. The ruby and gold pendant in the shape of a rose – she couldn't possibly sell it, it meant too much to her. The ring with the grey gemstone – no, that was the symbol of her position as the duke's mistress. But the gold hair clips...

She took out one of the delicate clasps and let it sparkle in the light of the lamp. Cosimo had given it to her as a reconciliation gift in the weeks after her birthday night. Also a memory, but not one that tore at her heart if she sold it.

"A wise choice," Vyxara commented. "Valuable enough to fetch a good price, but it's not as much of a pity as the ring or the pendant."

Valentina sighed and put the hair clips in a pocket of her dress. She hated the thought of having to sell gifts from the duke. But what choice did she have? Without Distilled Essence, she couldn't work, couldn't study, couldn't... survive.

The walk into town was cold and uncomfortable. The drizzle had turned into an icy sleet that lashed at her face. The streets were almost deserted – only a few hooded figures hurried through the storm with their heads down.

She knew a goldsmith in a side street near the market from hearsay – a man called Gregor Zilvenfill, who was also known to buy pieces. His store was small and unassuming, but she knew that he had some amazing connections.

The doorbell rang softly as she entered. The store smelled of leather and old wood. Zilvenfill, a lean man with surprisingly well-groomed hands, looked up from his account book.

"Ah, welcome young lady." He smiled thinly. "What can I do for you?"

Valentina pulled out the hair clips and placed them carefully on the counter. Zilvenfill's eyes widened almost imperceptibly – he immediately recognized the value of the work.

"Interesting," he murmured and picked up one of the clasps. "Very fine work. From Master Ellisbrooke in Dusktown, if I'm not mistaken. A gift?"

"It doesn't matter," Valentina said calmly. "What can you offer me in return?"

Zilvenfill weighed the clasps in his hand. "Well... the material value is considerable, but the true value lies in the craftsmanship. Shall we say... A hundred silver crowns per clasp?"

"One hundred and fifty," Valentina countered. She knew that the clasps were worth at least twice as much.

"My dear," Zilvenfill smiled paternally, "times are hard. The market for luxury goods is... restricted. One hundred and ten?"

"One hundred and thirty-five," Valentina said firmly. "And we both know you have a buyer for it."

The merchant looked at her with renewed respect. "One hundred and twenty," he finally said. "My final offer."

Valentina hesitated briefly, then nodded. It was less than she had hoped, but it would be enough to buy new supplies.

As Zilvenfill counted out the money, she felt a bitter taste in her mouth. Despite everything, it hurt her that she had to sell them.

"You do what's necessary," Vyxara said gently. "There's no shame in that."

When she left the store, the silver coins were heavy in her pocket. She would have to be careful with them – buying too much Distilled Essence at once could also attract attention.

The sleet had intensified. Valentina pulled her coat tighter around her and made her way back to the university. Perhaps she should take a detour via the market – you could sometimes buy comparatively cheap Distilled Essence vials from traveling merchants.

As she turned a corner, she heard familiar laughter from the Burning Quill. The door of the tavern opened briefly as someone went through and a rush of warm air and the smell of baked apples and hot spiced wine poured out.

For a moment, she was tempted to enter – simply to enjoy a warm drink and escape the icy wind. Then she saw a familiar figure through the steamed-up window – Hobkin of Foxhollow, the street artist.

"Oooh," purred Vyxara , "let's go in and see him."

Valentina hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside. The warm air of the Burning Quill enveloped her like a blanket. The taproom was well filled – merchants fleeing the weather, a few craftsmen in a corner playing dice, and of course some students crowded around the hearth.

Hobkin was sitting at the bar, a mug in front of him, chatting animatedly with Martha, the red-haired barmaid. When he saw Valentina, his face brightened.

"If it isn't the brilliant Essence Weaver!" He stood up and bowed with an exaggerated gesture. "May I buy you a mug of hot spiced wine? You look frozen."

"Oh yes," Vyxara purred in her thoughts. "Let's warm up a bit."

Valentina felt a smile steal onto her lips. Hobkin's light-hearted manner was like a breath of freedom in these dark days. "Spiced wine sounds amazing."

She sat down next to him at the counter. Martha brought the steaming mug and Valentina gratefully wrapped her cold fingers around it.

"How's business?" she asked after taking a warming sip.

Hobkin shrugged his shoulders. "Illumination doesn't make it any easier. Street art is considered 'frivolous'. But I can't complain – people need some entertainment right now."

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He moved a little closer. "And you? How are you doing at the university? There are... rumors."

"What kind of rumors?"

"Oh, this and that." He grinned mischievously. "For example, that a certain talented young lady spent the summer in very high society."

Valentina took another sip of wine. The spices tingled on her tongue. "Rumors are dangerous these days."

"Don't worry." Hobkin winked at her. "I'm good at keeping secrets. Especially the interesting ones."

His hand brushed her arm as if by chance. The touch sent a surprisingly intense shiver through her body. How long had it been since she had last...?

"Since Dusktown," Vyxara confirmed her thoughts. "And if I remember correctly, our charming street performer here was quite... talented."

Valentina could feel the blush rising to her cheeks – and not just from the wine. She still remembered the night with Hobkin very well.

"You look thoughtful," Hobkin remarked with a knowing smile. "Do you also remember a certain night a few months ago?"

"Maybe." She returned his gaze. The tension between them was almost palpable.

"I still have a room here at the Quill," he said casually. "The bed is still very comfortable, too. In case you... want to warm up a little more."

Valentina hesitated for just a moment. The wine had spread a pleasant warmth through her body, and Hobkin's proximity awakened a dormant desire.

"Do it," Vyxara purred. "You've earned it. And besides... who knows what other interesting information he has?"

"Let's go to your room," Valentina said quietly.

Hobkin's room was under the roof, but it was surprisingly cozy, with a small stove providing pleasant warmth.

As soon as he had closed the door, he pulled her close. His lips were warm and tasted of ale, his hands were as skillful as Valentina remembered them – and they were impatient. Valentina sighed into his kiss. She hadn't realized how much she had missed this – simple, uncomplicated pleasure without power games or obligations.

They wasted no time with formalities. Their clothes fell to the floor as they staggered to the bed. Hobkin's slender body was warm under her hands, his touch stoking a fire in her that she hadn't felt for far too long.

When he penetrated her, she moaned in surprise. She had almost forgotten how good it felt. His movements were smooth and practised, his rhythm perfect. Valentina wrapped her legs around his hips and surrendered to the sensation.

"Enjoy it," Vyxara whispered in her head. "You've earned a break from all the worry."

Valentina moaned softly into the crook of his neck as Hobkin penetrated her with deep, steady thrusts. His slender fingers gripped her buttocks, holding them tight as he filled her again and again. She could feel her body stretching and enveloping him, the pleasure flowing through her in waves.

"Yes," she gasped, "yes... yes... please," her fingers clawed into his shoulders, pulling him closer, wanting to feel him even deeper inside her. Hobkin grinned at her, his green eyes sparkling lustfully as he quickened his rhythm.

Valentina closed her eyes and lost herself in the feelings that his body aroused in her. She could feel her lust growing, the desire for more overwhelming her. Hobkin knew exactly what he was doing, his touch was sure and skillful, bringing her closer and closer to the edge of the abyss.

"I love being inside you, Valentina," he whispered in her ear, his breath warm on her skin.

She climaxed with a strangled sound, her body quivering and twitching beneath him as the pleasure overwhelmed her. Hobkin held her tight, letting her savor the wave of ecstasy until she finally caught her breath.

But he wasn't finished with her yet. Before Valentina had fully come to her senses, he turned her onto her stomach and pulled her onto his knees. She moaned as she felt him inside her again, his hardness filling her completely. His hands gripped her hips, holding her tight as he moved urgently inside her, now noticeably more interested in his own satisfaction than hers.

Valentina pressed her face into the sheets, her fingers clutching at them. Hobkin's thrusts were deep and powerful, hitting the exact spot inside her that made her see stars. She could feel a second orgasm building inside her, even more intense than the first.

"Oh Martyr," she gasped, "Hobkin, I ... I can't take any more." But he didn't stop, driving her relentlessly on until she finally came as she bit into his pillow to stifle her loud moans.

When Hobkin found his fulfillment shortly afterwards, he pulled out of her just in time. Valentina felt his semen squirt warmly over her skin and moaned softly again. She felt fulfilled, satisfied and relaxed.

"I really needed that," Hobkin murmured as he pulled her close and cuddled her in his arms.

Afterwards, they lay quietly next to each other, breathing heavily and content. Outside, the sleet lashed against the window, but in here it was warm and cozy.

"Nice of you to come by today," Hobkin finally murmured, kissing her ear.

"Yes, I think so too. We haven't seen each other for far too long."

"Right." He grinned. "I've also got a few interesting things I've heard about. Things that might interest you."

Valentina turned on her side and looked at him curiously. "What kind of things?"

"Well..." Hobkin stroked her bare arm, lost in thought. "About our esteemed Illuminator, for example. He's not quite as... virtuous as he pretends to be."

"Oh?"

"He's a regular customer at Violet Delights." Hobkin lowered his voice conspiratorially. "At irregular intervals, but he's been there several times. He wears plain clothes so as not to be recognized. But he's been seen anyway."

A shiver twitched up her back. She thought of Madame Dolorosa's offer back in Dusktown – an offer she had never seriously considered yet, despite her precarious financial situation.

"Eastwald goes to courtesans?" She couldn't quite hide the irony. "The same man who has students pilloried or caned for 'lewd behavior'?"

"Well." Hobkin laughed softly. "The biggest moralizers often have the most interesting preferences." He became serious. "But he really is an incredible nuisance – he's smashed almost the entire black market. Three Essence Weavers from the city have already been arrested. The price of Distilled Essence has exploded."

"Interesting," Vyxara murmured thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should reconsider Madame Dolorosa's offer after all. Not just because of the money..."

"I don't know," Valentina thought hesitantly. "One thing is to sleep with the duke, or even Hobkin..." She stroked Hobkin's arm gently. "But strange men, every night..."

"The illusion artifacts would protect you," Vyxara pointed out. "No one would ever know who you really are. And besides, you might find out more about Eastwald. What he's planning, who he suspects..."

Valentina stared at the ceiling. The thought still made her uncomfortable, but her options were becoming increasingly limited. Without Distilled Essence, she couldn't work, she couldn't study – and the thought of having to sell more of the duke's gifts gave her a pang.

"Maybe..." she thought to Vyxara, "maybe I should at least take a look at Violet Delights. Just to... explore the possibilities."