Raven.
I sat there watching the unconscious woman until the lights outside dimmed and the madame appeared in the doorway. "Well" the madame hissed, her eyes cold and I sat up immediately straighter in my chair before answering. "Beaten badly, flayed and a broken leg… but beautiful. Under all that blood she had unblemished skin, green eyes, white-blonde hair, large breasts. She'll be popular."
The madame nodded. "You won't join the pleasure garden tonight, instead you'll sit here and attend to our little Dove." I nodded, internally cringing at the madame having picked a name for callers to use for the unconscious girl already. The madame's slightly crooked smile looked like money. I was happy too though, staying here meant that I wouldn't have to perform tonight and that no man would touch me.
"You're to change her wrappings in 6 hours and apply more balm, this one is important, and I don't want her permanently marked from the flaying." The madame continued before dropping another container of that elusive expensive balm on the table and stalking out the door. When the door opened I could hear the voices of men echoing down the halls and shuddered with relief when that sound grew fainter as the door closed behind the madame.
I took another long look at the woman on the table, my thoughts racing. Who was she? How could she be important and why? Despite my many questions I didn't dare say any of them out loud. I instead began to strip, flexing my ankle with satisfaction at my slightly increased range of motion, before slipping into a hot spring that overlooked the woman's spot on the table. I left my bad leg peeking out over the rim, letting the balm do its work. If I was to remain in the room overnight I might as well soak. As a child of the Emerald Isles I always felt a special bond with water, I never strayed far from it and many days it was my only comfort.
In an hour or two I could hear the music start up in the gardens. Not long after that I could hear the moans, bodies slapping against one another with a hard kind of frenzy and crying echoing up the halls. I shuddered again, content to stay where I was in the private bath on the 2nd floor. Despite the revelry, Dove still did not wake.
It was well into the early morning when the cage grew quiet that I began to carefully remove the leaves to examine my handy work. The balm didn't heal her bones, they were still tightly bound in splints to help them heal properly over time. Her skin had scabbed over in all of the places she'd been flayed. Her road to recovery would take time even with the magical ointment.
Once I was done removing the leaves, I again filled the basin with scalding water and herbs. I set about methodically cleaning the wounds again when Dove's very green eyes finally did open. Under exceptionally beautiful lashes she looked directly at me to pose an unsaid question. They seemed to ask where she was but her mouth said nothing. I cursed myself for not checking to make sure she still had a tongue, it was too late to check now.
"You're in the Aviary and I'm tending to your wounds. You've been badly beaten and flayed." I whispered. Dove closed her eyes and didn't indicate if any of that registered before she fell back to sleep.
Gently I continued to clean the wounds. When I was done and I'd re-wrapped the woman from head to toe in leaves, I was shocked to hear a small hoarse voice whisper, "what is the aviary?" Dove asked.
I stumbled over my words, pressing a cool damp cloth into the girl's mouth to suck on, before finally settling on, "a whorehouse." Dove didn't speak again but I could see the glint of tears trailing down her cheeks silently in the darkness. Wanting to give her this last moment of privacy, I stood up from the chair and moved over to lay by the hot spring where it was warmer. It was there that I slowly, in the silence, drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
The only sounds in the room were the quiet sobs of girl on the table above, soft snoring and the bubbling of the hot spring.