NOVEL WEB Chapter 190: The Whore Daughter
The last chapel in the palace stood quiet, tucked between two collapsed wings of marble and ivy-choked corridors.
A single beam of sunlight streamed through the cracked dome, casting a pale glow upon the altar.
Saintess Marienne knelt alone, armored knees pressing against cold stone, her white cloak pooled around her like unfurled wings.
Before her, the statue of Goddess Eunomia stood tall, serene, and watchful, the only chapel with the statue, since Hyparia didn't believe in any God.
Marienne's eyes closed as her fingers tightened around the holy pendant at her throat.
"Goddess of Order… grant me clarity."
Her voice was soft, barely a whisper, yet the weight behind it felt vast.
"I have seen what chaos looks like. I have seen what he does to cities, to men's hearts. If I fall today, let it not be without purpose. Let my flame, even if brief, show them a path."
The warmth of the sun touched her cheek like a blessing. And as she stayed there, breathing in the silence, memory swept her like a tide.
Bringing her to the place when she was still a child and even in the darkest place, the church and the Goddess always have a way of reaching it.
***
The red district stank of sweet perfume and rot. Its alleyways were damp, narrow, and always buzzing with whispers and moans. It was not a place for prayer, not a place for hope.
Yet in the heart of it, behind the faded curtains of the Velvet Dawn Brothel, a child had been born.
Marienne.
She didn't know who her father was. None of the women there did for their children.
But the brothel girls raised her like one of their own—teaching her how to mop the floors, how to avoid drunk hands, and how to hide when soldiers came slumming through with cruel smiles.
However, the nicest of them still saying things to her like:
"You are beautiful, Marienne and it is such a shame. After all, men like beautiful things and your fate won't be too different from your mother."
"What a pitiful child, you are born misfortune the day you born female."
Today too, Marienne scrubbed the floor with tiny hands, her knuckles raw, knees sore against the warped boards.
She was only eight, but already knew which stains could be scrubbed out and which were better hidden beneath rugs.
The madam paid her in crusts of bread and safe corners to sleep in. Since she was too young to sell her body, that was the only job she could do to survive.
Outside the window, the sky burned amber. Somewhere beyond the crooked rooftops of the red district, the church towers caught the dying sunlight like blades of gold.
She paused and decided to rest for a while, staring at them, so clean and peaceful, different from those that were always covered by the darkness and dirt.
She wondered what it felt like living in the bask of light.
"They look like statues," she murmured.
A soft rustle behind her. Her mother, Lora, stepped in with tired eyes and powdered cheeks, the rouge barely hiding the dark circles beneath them.
"That's because they've never had to clean up someone else's blood," Lora said, sitting beside her.
She pulled Marienne close, smoothing the tangles from her hair. Her perfume was always jasmine and something sharp beneath it—like rust.
"Are we ever going to leave?" Marienne asked.
Lora hesitated but then nodded. "Yes. I've been saving." Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"It's almost enough. One more year. We'll go to a place where you don't have to clean men's messes anymore. A school, even with actual books you can read and nice windows."
Marienne's heart soared. She imagined it: a room with curtains that weren't stained, water that came from a tap, not a bucket, and clean sheets.
"I don't care what they say about us," Lora whispered, holding her close. "You won't become what they expect. You'll get out. I promise you, Marienne."
Marianne smiled brightly and hugged her mother back, "Okay, let's leave mother, to the bright place just the two of us."
But dreams in the Velvet Dawn never lasted.
It happened the night before they were to leave. The madam opened the door without knocking. Behind her, two armored men stepped in, faces shadowed by greed.
"These two need service and since you are the only one available... You know what to do, right?" the madam said flatly.
Lora stood. "No. I have the money and I wanted to end it all! All my debt with you all paid!" she tried to reason with the madam.
However, the madam just smirked and said, "Okay, you come with me now."
Lora then kneeled in front of Marienne, tucked her blonde hair behind her ear before hugging her tight, and whispered, "Marienne, I will go for a while and when I go, lock the door alright, don't let anyone go inside."
After that, her mother followed Madam and the two men, leaving her alone as she locked the door waiting for her.
The night air turned colder after her. Marienne sat on the edge of the bed, just as told, eyes fixed on the door.
Her tiny fingers trembled as she waited. One minute passed. She didn't understand what happened to her mother or the things that would happen to her. But she believes her mother is always right and never lies.
Marienne didn't know how long she waited. She held her breath, listening for footsteps, for laughter, for the sound of her mother's return.
But only silence answered. However, not long after she could hear knocking from the door. It wasn't gentle at all.
Her heart beating fast as it screamed something bad would happen.
"Little girl," a man's voice called out, syrupy and vile. "Open the door. Your mama said you're next."
Another voice laughed, slurred and coarse. "C'mon, don't be shy now. We paid good coin."
Marienne backed away, heart pounding in her chest. "She told me not to open it," she whispered to herself.
"She told me not to…"
She knows a bit about how cruel men could be and how many prostitutes in this place were tortured by them. That was why, she was terrified. She hates pain.
Another bang could be heard, louder this time. The wooden frame rattled under the force.
"We'll break it down if you don't open it!"
She gasped, eyes darting around the dim room. Her gaze landed on the cupboard—tall, heavy, and barely clinging to its hinges.
She scrambled to her feet, wincing as her knees screamed in protest. The cupboard groaned as she pushed it across the floor, grinding against the warped boards.
The banging grew fiercer, the men shouting now.
"You brat! We'll skin you alive!"
"Open the damn door!"
Marienne shoved the cupboard until it slammed against the door with a shuddering thud. She braced her back against it, panting. The thumping fists and kicks didn't stop.
Tears streamed down her face. She bit her lip hard, trying not to sob. She couldn't scream or make a sound. If they heard her, they'd try harder.
"OPEN UP BITCH! YOU ARE THE SAME AS YOUR PATHETIC MOTHER!"
She curled up beside the door, her small arms wrapped around her legs, and buried her face into her knees.
Her breath came in short, ragged gasps.
"Please…" she whispered to no one. "Please let this stop."
She wasn't praying. She didn't even know how.
She was just a little girl, hoping the world wouldn't crush her tonight.
The shouting faded eventually—whether they tired or were called away, she didn't know.
But she stayed there, curled in silence, until the moonlight passed from the window and the darkness swallowed the room whole.
***
Marienne didn't know how many days passed.
Her tongue was dry, cracked, her lips bleeding. Hunger gnawed at her belly like a beast with no name.
She drank rainwater trickling through the broken sill, catching it in a rusted bowl, but it was never enough.
Still, she waited.
Every sound made her flinch. Every hour passed in silence and fading hope.
Then she suddenly heard a knock, a gentle one, too gentle it was hard to pick up.
Marienne jolted upright, her heart slamming against her ribs.
"I won't open," she croaked. "You're not getting in. Go away."
But then a hoarse voice answered.
"Marienne… it's me… it's Mama…"
Her breath caught. "Mama?!"
She scrambled up, dizzy from the motion, and rushed to the cupboard. Her hands, despite their trembling, shoved it aside like it weighed nothing. Hope gave her strength.
She unlatched the door with happiness but Her mother collapsed forward, her body covered in blood.
Bruises bloomed across her pale skin. Her torn dress clung in damp, ragged strips. There was barely anything left of her.
"Mama! Mama! What happen to you?! Who did this to you?!"
Marienne dropped to her knees, trying to lift her, drag her inside.
Tears poured down her cheeks as she pulled her mother to the mattress, whispering nonsense through her sobs. Her dream—their dream—crumbled in her chest.
They would never leave.
They were trapped in this hell, and now her mother was dying.
She begged for help, pounding on doors. No one came. The madam's order echoed louder than any cry. Everyone turned their backs.
So Marienne did the only thing left. She knelt at her mother's side, clasped her hands, and prayed.
She prayed for light, for escape, for anything.
And as her voice broke, golden warmth surged through her fingers—soft, radiant, impossibly bright.
Her mother stirred, her wounds fading beneath the glow.
And the Goddess answered.