Depravity, A Beauty and the Beast Novel(40)

Soft music drifted down the halls along with the cloying smoke. My head began to spin as I walked down the dimly lit hall. A woman walked toward me. She wore only her grey facial veil, her heavy breasts with their dark nipples and thatch of hair between her legs visible for anyone who cared to look. I tried not to look but couldn’t help myself. Even changing at home, my sisters and I gave each other privacy.

As my eyes swept her from head to toe, I noted she carried a cup. I moved aside as we neared, but she stopped and held out the cup to me. I hesitated to take it.

“Thank you, but I’m just here to bring my father, Mr. Hovtel, something to eat.”

The woman laughed softly.

“I know, child. Drink the tea so the smoke doesn’t bother you.” She held out the cup again, but I didn’t notice. The sound of her voice mesmerized me. It was so soft I had to strain to hear, and it had a sighing quality that hinted at a hidden yearning.

“How do you speak like that?” I asked, slipping into my father’s world of observation and study. I was his daughter, after all.

She laughed again.

“After you feed your father, I will teach you if you’d like.”

I nodded, accepted the cup, and drained it. Almost immediately, some of the spinning stopped. As it did, I realized I still stared at her breasts; and I quickly looked up to meet her eyes through her veil. I saw amusement there.

She took the cup back and led me down the hall. I couldn’t help but watch her butt as she walked. Every move seemed slow and rolling, a smooth dance to call attention to different areas of her body. I felt no attraction, but curiosity bit into me deeply. No shame entered a single movement, even when she bent to stroke a cat that ambled down the hall, giving me a clear view of her...well, everything.

She surprised me by stopping suddenly in front of a door. She tapped on its surface instead of knocking, then opened it. She motioned me inside and followed me. Father sat at a desk, looking decidedly uncomfortable as he lectured on mathematics to four very naked and veiled students.

His voice seemed overly loud after the way my guide had spoken to me.

When he caught sight of me, his eyes widened in surprise, and I apologetically held out the pastry. He obviously didn’t want me associating with his students for very visible reasons.

One of his students, who reclined before his desk, rose gracefully and took the pastry from me.

“I’ll see you this evening,” Father said, sounding strained.

I nodded and left without a word, my guide closing the door for me.

“Would you still like to learn, daughter of our teacher?” she whispered softly beside me.

I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more at the moment, but I knew what my father would think. Or did I? As she pointed out, my father was a scholar. He, more than anyone I knew, understood what it meant to have a burning curiosity. Often he commended me on my tenacious pursuit of knowledge. Would he this time?

With resolve, I nodded. She led me to a set of stairs at the end of the current hallway. One led down, where I could hear gentle splashing sounds, and the other led up. Bright light and laughter spilled from the upstairs.

She hesitated at the landing.

“Perhaps it would be less shocking to go to the bathing room. It sounds as if most of my sisters are upstairs.”

Without waiting for my answer, she glided down the candlelit steps which opened to a large underground room. Red dyed fabrics covered the rock walls, and large tubs filled with steaming water were placed throughout the room. An arched opening covered by another piece of red fabric led from the room.

A single woman, wearing the same style veil as my guide, occupied one of the many tubs.

“Good morning, sister,” my guide whispered. “Are we disturbing you?”

“Not at all. Who is your friend? A new sister?”

My guide giggled, a tinkling sound that made me smile.

“Our scholar’s curious daughter. She would like to know how we learned to speak like this.”

“Come, sit near me. I would like to listen,” the woman bade, standing to motion to the cushions set on the floor near the tub. Other than my father’s chair, I hadn’t noticed anything more than a cushion on which to sit. I sat next to my guide. The woman in the tub didn’t sit until we sat, making it impossible to avoid seeing everything above the water that lapped at her knees. Her small nipples, rosy from the warm water, stood out from large breasts. No thatch of hair covered her lower parts or limbs.

“What is your name, child?” she asked, a smile curving her mouth. The veil fell to the top of her upper lip.

“Benella,” I whispered back. I hadn’t meant to whisper, at least not consciously. It just seemed too quiet and peaceful to speak regularly.