Chapter 4-2:
Isabel
MY MOTHER WAS A HARLOT. I KNEW NOTHING of my father, but I assumed that he was one of her clients. I was born in a brothel, and the other prostitutes raised me. There were several other kids born in the same circumstances. I was treated as their sibling.
I wasn’t certain of the reason why, but I had very few memories of my mother caring for me. She must have been a popular harlot. The ones tasked with raising the kids were young girls who couldn’t quite handle customers yet. When we grew up, the ladies would also become harlots, and the men would work under us. That was the environment I grew up in. It wasn’t as bad as some might assume; I think I had a rather nice and fun childhood.
But as I grew, I gradually began to understand just what kind of place I was in. When I saw older girls cry as they handled customers, my resolve began to waver.
The greatest trigger was my mother’s death. It was rather common for harlots to die of sickness. However, before her death, I saw her in a deranged state, as though she was stuck in her own delusions. I became terrified. I didn’t want to turn out like that.
My mother’s funeral was a simple one. She was buried in a mass grave and that was that. Beside the grave was Holy Haven Orphanage. I took my chance and snuck out after the funeral to knock on the orphanage gates. The director opened the door and came out to meet me.
“I don’t want to be a harlot,” I told her.
She looked a touch troubled, but she took me in. It seemed the staff of the brothel went out of their way to search for me at the orphanage, but the director firmly insisted that no such girl was under her care. Luckily, the facility was funded by nobles, placing it under the guardianship of a person with power. Even the intimidating guys of the brothel couldn’t push their way through and search the place.
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My days at the orphanage weren’t all that bad. There were a lot of well-mannered kids compared to the brothel, and since I’d had a rough upbringing, I felt like I stood out. Fortunately, I was decently athletic and was just a smidge smarter than the others. That allowed me to join the circle of the well-mannered kids. I had a place where I belonged.
I began to exert my influence on the others, and after a few years, I became the leader of the girls. That didn’t mean I was up to mischief. I was very grateful to the director for taking me in. I took it upon myself to punish those who did wrong, like having the kids ignore a certain person or hide their things. Maybe we’d make some of that naughty kid’s food disappear, or I’d trap them in a storage area rumored to be haunted. Whenever I punished those people, my entourage jumped with joy, and my influence grew. Those actions allowed me to kill two birds with one stone.
“Isabel, you must not go around punishing other kids,” the director often scolded me.
“Why not?” I asked. “Those kids are in the wrong.”
“God will punish them accordingly.”
“God won’t do squat.”
“God will never let evil go unpunished. Every human will one day receive whatever they deserve.”
“If God is real, then there shouldn’t be a single orphan around. That’s proof that God doesn’t exist.”
When I spoke of the absence of God, the director gazed upon me sadly. Still, I couldn’t live with the belief that some deity existed. Since the day of my birth, I’d known that such faith would get me nowhere—it didn’t help my situation. Ultimately, one needed power to do anything. It could be brute strength, power in numbers, or perhaps influence.
Richard possessed the most physical strength in the orphanage. He solved any issue with violence. Oscar held power in numbers because he led the boys and did as he liked. I wanted to maintain peace in the orphanage and always butted heads with those two. Disagreements were bound to happen no matter where I went. That was why I needed some form of power.
One day, my life in the orphanage abruptly ended—a demon made her appearance. Her name was Serena Rosenberg, the daughter of a duke. She claimed that she wished to select her squires from the orphans and chose each child casually, as though she were picking out her outfit for the day.
At first, I expected the well-mannered orphans that the director selected to be sent off, but that demonic girl chose Richard and Oscar. I immediately felt like I was in danger. I tried to find a place to flee, but I was too late. The director brought the fiendish girl to me.
“This child shall also be my squire candidate,” she said. She was beautiful, like she had stepped out of a painting, but her eyes told a different story. There was nothing childlike about her gaze, and I sensed her strong resolve burning within.
“Um, I don’t think I’ll be of any use,” I replied.
The director must have told her about me, and yet this demon still tried to choose me. I already knew the types of kids she was looking for, but I still tried desperately to fight back. I was willing to cry crocodile tears if needed.
“Oh, Isabel, I see that you’d like to become a harlot, just like your mother,” Serena Rosenberg said. “What a splendid dream to have.”
She had accurately grasped the dark stain in my heart, and even I could tell that my face twisted with anger. That was when my fate was sealed.