I’d been in the Capital City for a month when restless boredom got the better of my intimidation.
Autumn was also at its peak, and the season seemed so strange in this city of majestic buildings where trees lined the streets, but there was relatively little greenery.
Therefore when the colors changed, I was rather confused.
In the country, the explosion of color meant we were in the hardest months of labor. But it also meant that winter was close, the season when everybody slowed down enough that we peasants weren’t worked to exhaustion.
For some odd reason, I got it in my head that I was losing my last chance to get to know the Capital City.
So I ventured out everyday and explored, ambling through my neighborhood of bohemians and the Avenue of the Theaters. Once I grew familiar with those streets and the hidden places there, I was comfortable enough to wander beyond those boundaries.
I had my daily ritual though.
I always started and ended my day at my favorite café where the waiters knew me. I’d have tea with muffins and fruit when I began, and tea with finger sandwiches when I finished.
I took my time as I observed the other people in the café, noticing the differences and similarities in the clientele there early in the day, and those who came in the evening.
Once I had my fill, I’d pick a direction from the Avenue of the Theaters and go.
The Avenue of the Theaters was in the northern half of the City.
The bohemian neighborhood where I lived was in the northeastern corner of the Capital, and east of the Avenue of the Theaters.
The northwestern corner was the most dangerous part of town, where the joyful decadence of successful harlots, gamblers, courtesans, and the creatives took a downturn into the wretchedness of addiction, seediness, poverty, and despair.
West of the Avenue was where the opium dens, the violent gambling houses, and the most wretched brothels were, along with the slums.
West was where the beggars and hustlers along the Avenue of the Theaters disappeared when they were done panhandling, picking pockets, or conning the gullible.
The Sorcerer had described this part of the city to me.
I only ventured two blocks in before I remembered what I’d been taught and turned around.
But I had already attracted attention I didn’t want when two men started to follow me. I quickened my pace and they drifted off when I was back in the crowd along the Avenue of the Theaters.
Then I ventured south of the Avenue of the Theaters, to the part of the Capital where business and government meet in the stately buildings circling the town square in a circumference three blocks wide.
South of the neighborhood of business was the wealthiest and most elegant neighborhood in the Capital, where the Mayor’s Mansion was flanked with stately homes of the diplomats, the Parliament officials, and the wealthiest businessmen all around.
East of that exclusive area were the more modest, but still comfortable homes of well-made merchants and middle officials.
And to the east of that neighborhood were the apartments and humble dwellings of the respectable serving class, everybody from teachers to waiters to the servants, stewards, and maids who didn’t reside with their employers.
Their neighborhood was safe, but their abodes quite small.
If I had chosen the safe yet undistinguished path for my new destiny, I could have easily lived in this neighborhood for the rest of my life without worry.
When I walked through those streets, I felt the most at home and that these people were the most similar to those I had grown up with.
This was also the part of the Capital where nobody looked twice at me, where the women and men dressed simply, not fashionably. So my country attire and braid that I wore daily did not attract any attention.
I finished each day’s exploration in the café around the corner from the Avenue of the Theaters.
Sometimes, I was tempted to go there late on those many nights I couldn’t sleep, but I was too shy to go alone.
And likely, it would have been dangerous anyway.
As the weeks passed, I started to recognize more faces of people who recognized me.
I often saw Carla there.
She was usually with other courtesans. Every time she saw me, Carla gave me that knowing half-smile of hers, followed with a wink.
But there was one gentleman who accompanied Carla to the cafe quite often. He must have been one of her lovers, but I also saw him with other women, including Filly.
He and Carla seemed very close, yet this gentleman also showed affection for every woman I saw him with. He leaned close and his gestures were intimate, his focus solely on his lady that evening.
He inspired my curiosity, for certain.
This gentleman was handsome in a unique way. He reminded me of a hawk with his lean face, stark features, and sharp-eyed gaze.
Like most gentlemen of fashion, which he was, he walked with a cane. But unlike those who carried canes for elegance, he needed his for support and he leaned on it discreetly.
He walked tall and proud with a long stride and no discernible limp, but that was only self-control. The tight grip of his hand on the knob betrayed his dependence on the cane.
I really liked the look of him.
He differed from the other fine gentlemen I saw daily throughout the Capital.
He wasn’t soft.
He looked like he knew what it was to suffer.
Whenever Carla winked at me, her hawkish gentleman usually turned around and peered at me, with a faint grin on his mouth.
He always nodded to me whenever our eyes met.
His regard penetrated, but never invaded. The sensation was not unpleasant.
