The Bedhouse

Madame Piff had one of the nicest homes in Dragontown. She’d petitioned men to do the labor of rebuilding what parts of the once-two story building had been broken, and she looked quietly out the second story window as I approached with Lady Hen at my side.

A reconstruction, the building’s lower floor was the wooden original. Its floor had been covered in what rugs still existed, some exchanged to Madame Piff from others’ homes in return for her services. They had lost most of their color, and small holes had burned through some of them. The second story was sandstone from two other buildings from some borderland town. Both had broken into pieces when they were swallowed. The upper floor was held together with half-rotted wooden beams. Whenever Bubbles spoke, I could see the second story shaking like a loose tooth.

Madame Piff snorted as she saw me walking toward the entryway, “I’ve seen too many no-good officials pestering my business. Morals. Gods. What is it? What could you want? Surely not my services.” She called down to me.

Lady Hen knelt beside me, “Ye speak ta Princ…”

“I know damn well who she is!” Madame Piff rolled her eyes, “Are you reminding yourself or the dragon?”

Lady Hen stumbled over her words, “T-to Princess…”

I held my hand in front of her, “It’s all right. You tried.” I looked up at the window, “Are we coming in, or you out?”

Madame Piff disappeared from the window. I waited for a moment, tapping my foot against the ground until she finally appeared outside the door, “This is no place for a princess, don’t you think?”

I motioned toward it, “It’s one of the few buildings in town people seem to properly respect.”

“I make life bearable for some,” she croaked. “You’re here about Mr Gab, aren’t you?”

“Ye know?” Lady Hen gasped, “So it was ye who pushed him?”

Madam Piff shook her head, “Obviously, I know. My hair has gone white, do you really think I’m of quite the strength to wrestle a man such as Mr. Gab into the river?”

“How did you know, then?” I asked.

She nodded toward her home, “Not all men see goodness in my line of work. To them, I am a scoundrel in all ways. Of course, I am their suspect, first. Mr. Gab is no friend to me, either.”

“Mack and his gang were the ones accusing you,” I smirked. I knew she would see other men throughout the week. I wondered how many of them she would speak to.

Madame Piff took a deep breath, “And, it is I who is a scoundrel, when my business respects what people say in confidence.” She laughed to herself, “You’re right. There is no confidence here. Secrets aren’t for the damned.”

“I would have something done about them,” I offered.

“Some of that same gang purchase from me.” she tapped her fingers against her wrist, “Mack is a good man. His wife is near to madness, and he’s trying to do the impossible for his daughter. When I was a child, his valor would earn a nursery rhyme about him. When I see him in my age, he is a man rolling a boulder with more hope than any else.”

“You say this and also say he purchases from ye?” Lady Hen harrumphed.

“I would never tell you who does or does not accept my services,” Madame Piff stepped forward, “their lives are hard enough.”

I shrugged, “If you don’t tell me who has been here, I will ask the dragon instead.”

Madame Piff grabbed my arm, “You will ask your… friend…” she said mockingly, spit dripping through her teeth, “So be it. Everyone will hear her, and they will know she would have only answered it to you. Those men will blame you and not me, Princess. And, I will see you as nothing but cruel.”

I tore my arm away, “I need to know this to find who tried to kill Mr. Gab!” I breathed heavily, “People will understand that we cannot have an attempted murderer running around unknown.”

She laughed to herself, “Oh, child. What makes you think that dragon even tells you the truth?”

“What reason does she have to lie?”

Madame Piff turned back toward her home. She looked up at the second floor, “This is my wisdom: People lie. They lie for nothing. They would most definitely lie if they thought there was something they could get. I tell men how much I love them, and I still take their money. If this dragon loved you, you would not be here.”

“We don’t work the same job,” I flicked my hair behind me.

“Really? We each have the grandest buildings in this forsaken town,” She looked over the broken bridge and across the river toward the palace. “That’s no coincidence. We just have different patrons.”

I looked quietly to Lady Hen. Her face betrayed nothing, I supposed she mustn’t have agreed with Madame Piff. I swallowed, “It is easy to delude ourselves in difficult times,” I reassured the brothelkeeper. “But, to compare us. I won’t suffer madness, Madame.”

“Your Majesty,” She said firmly, “there is a madwoman in the house down the street, and she does not spend her days speaking to the dragon.”

Lady Hen stepped forward, “You are suggesting this is…”

“Madness… or worse, willful treachery toward our own kin,” Madame Piff put her hands on her hips, “Princess, know that the more you indulge this dragon, the less your people will trust you.”

“Treachery?” I laughed, “I am a princess. I am the ruler of this town. Treason from me is impossible.”

“There has been a betrayer even among angels,” She shook her head, “and he did not even need to be deceived nor manipulated by anything but his own ambition.”

I laughed to myself, “Even if I had betters, I would never betray them.”

“Them. Her.” Madame Piff walked inside, “Go on your way, Princess. I have no fruit or wine or jewelry to give you for your services. If you need to know who pushed the man, why not ask the victim himself?”