The Merchant and Tavern Master

Side Story: Bella

My late husband was a remarkable man, full of compassion and determination. As we welcomed the birth of our child, the weight of our financial needs became all too apparent. Additionally, the responsibility of caring for my elderly mother added to our growing list of concerns. That's when he first suggested we relocate to the bustling city of Seaford, our beloved Harbor City to get some money to support all of us.

Despite the fact that providing for my mother was not his obligation, he assured me that he would care for us all. His actions spoke volumes: he faithfully handed over his earnings, ensuring that there was enough to sustain us. For nearly two years after we settled into our modest living quarters in the heart of the city, life unfolded with relative ease. His unwavering commitment to his work and family endeared him to me, and I cherished him for it.

Suddenly, my world was shattered. I was on the verge of crying out to the gods when the builder's guild delivered the shocking news of his sudden passing. He had fallen from a towering building he was laboring on, a tragic accident that claimed his life and left us in disarray. Left behind were myself, our 4-year-old son, and my mother. The weight of responsibility now rested solely on my shoulders.

The builder's guild, to which my husband belonged, extended some bereavement compensation that temporarily eased our financial strain. However, this relief was finite, and I knew that I needed to identify a sustainable means of securing the resources to sustain our lives.

As I reflect now, I see that I, as a woman, had grown overly reliant on my husband. There's no fault in dedicating oneself to homemaking, but I failed to foresee the potential hazards of his workplace, where danger lurked. I held firm to the belief that he would return home each day, his warm smile embracing both me and our young son. In the wake of this unfortunate event, I found myself reflecting on how ill-prepared I was to face the hardship of this city. It's true this thriving city, built by the joint of three kingdoms, has endless possibilities where one can secure resources through various exchanges.

As time progressed and our funds dwindled, I found myself compelled to seek any form of employment that could secure sustenance for our family. I ventured into the roles of a cook, a maid, and even a tailor, juggling these tasks at the expense of my own well-being. Alas, the cumulative wages from these jobs vanished swiftly, devoured by our daily necessities. Amidst this struggle, I scarcely had moments to spend with my growing son, leaving him in the care of my elderly mother.

It dawned on me that my mother's presence in my life was finite; age and ailments were taking their toll. A return to our hometown wasn't feasible either, as means of generating income there were scarce. Thus, in a state of desperation, I found myself drawn to the only avenue that offered adequate compensation, time for reprieve, and the ability to nurture my family bonds – albeit an unconventional path – that of a courtesan.

It's a job that isn't readily spoken of with pride, especially for a woman. However, the demands within this city are so substantial that the establishments are compelled to offer us respectable baseline wages in accordance with stringent regulations. The law further stipulates that the establishment must engage a priest or priestess who can provide us with cleansing spells, alleviating concerns about unwanted pregnancies among the women working here.

Driven by the dire need of money for my family, I steeled myself and enlisted with an establishment located in the western district of the city. It was a considerable distance from my home, where my mother and son resided. I was determined to shield them from the knowledge of my occupation, focusing instead on providing a substantial income that could sustain our lives for the foreseeable future.

It was also the first time I found myself scrutinizing my own body frame in contrast to that of my fellow courtesans. They exuded a captivating allure, possessing almost ethereal forms that seemed to have been sculpted by the very hand of the god of artistry. Their figures boasted generous bosoms, alluring curves, and sturdy thighs and legs. I couldn't help but feel a pang of pity directed both at myself and my departed husband, who had loved this body of mine that I deemed far from satisfactory.