Left alone with the owner, Chéri turned his attention to Sonia entirely, now properly free to examine the Venetian woman as he pleased. Chéri followed her to the fourth room on the left, first floor -he memorised the way right away- to find what was clearly a good room for such a building.
Chéri had been mostly spoilt by whoever took care of him, hence he hadn’t had the chance yet to develop his own tasted and intelligence for interiors, but his expectations had been lower, hence a new light appeared in his eyes when he was offered the room, now confronted with the possibility of a less uncomfortable stay in Whitby than he had expected.

Sonia started to explain and as, if his mind had been read, she proceeded to address his observation surrounding the subject of payment. Chéri examined the room and asked “I am supposed to entrata here and sleep here, yes?” The word “entratain” sounding almost too smart for his not especially refined French. But hey, maybe Sonia wasn’t going to notice that he was a slightly less fashionable foreigner than expected. “And how much will I owe you?” Chéri had never been part of what in France was called Maison de Debaucherie, a specifically house of procurement, but he knew how things worked and even though he could, at least at the start, take care of his own presentation and clothes, there normally were further fees. He knew there was hardly any way to avoid that if that was the case here as well, but he’d rather know now than later. “Refined taste,” he repeated, expectantly. He was curious to find out what refined taste meant in Whitby.

Chéri took a few steps around, not daring to leave his bag anywhere just yet, while Sonia explained the only rule. Chéri frowned lightly “I must not fall in love? I can merry, sire a child, steal, get into brawls and quarrels, but I am not allowed to fall in love? And how on earth will you make sure of that?” He said, with an irony that betrayed an excess of fire in his personality, a quick mind and a blatant lack of manners. He quickly realised how counterproductive such words might turn out to be and quickly added. “However, that is fine with me, Madame Carringtòn.” He scratched himself behind an ear. “Although you can be sure I will confess deep and irresistible feelings to whomever you will judge more worthy of filling your pockets.” And with that, he added a laugh, powerful, explosively happy and oddly sincere sounding. A stark contrast with Sonia’s demeanour. Maybe he was trying to make her laugh, to contrast the grimness.

And then she shared something. Chéri batted the long lashes and took a tentative step as if he intended to narrow the space her remarks had to roam free and personally collect them where it was appropriate. He put his hands behind his back, as he had seen gentlemen do whenever they wanted to look respectful. He offered another type of smile, with another type of expression, this time more adult and considerate, respect rather than sympathy, appreciation for the thought she had chosen to share.
“You may call me whatever you wish to call me, Madame.” He continued, but considering the particular situation, he added “However, if you need a name, most call me Chéri.” “Darling, dear”. Not a name for a person, but rather for a fantasy.

"I didn't make the rule. I think it is more of a..." she paused yet again as if trying to thing of the right words. "Safety measure for yourself not to fall in love. Perhaps that rule can be changed. I do not know yet, everything is happening all at once. You must forgive me." She was no mind reader about his money, she just knew from experience. "Gentlemen, Ladies... Nobles... Anyone with a good sized purse and a desire for companionship."

She paused again and then answered in her alto, her words drawled out. "Nothing until you find a client... Your goal is to be everything they ever asked for in a partner. The rules are going to change soon and your pay will be subject to negotiation. You owe me nothing yet. As far as your client, you charge as much as you think you can get out of that person, Chéri, it's up to you, really, how much you charge just as long as you keep in mind that these men and women are willing to pay you for being whatever they wish, and you may even decline a client if they break your rules and the rules of the establishment."

Sonia took note of the way he stepped forward, tilted her head and moved toward him. She stopped within, perhaps, an arms length away from him and her hips shifted to relieve the pressure of her added bulk on her back. She wasn't so pregnant as to look like she was about to pop, she was only just showing enough that she couldn't hide it anymore. "As far as what the Madame may have told you about me... If you want to know, then you may ask me. Nobody else does." And that was when she gave a smile. It wasn't a happy smile, it transformed somewhat into a grimace.

"I bring it up now because it's inevitable that you will learn about it." She had such dulcet tones even as she spoke of the monster she married.

Chéri had ironically attacked the rule, but this seemed to make Sonia more pensive than anything. Chéri bent his head to the side and observed her during her meditation. He ended up smiling. “Thank you for your concern. Let me know if you decide to change it. And I have nothing to forgive you. Chéri nodded, raising his brows “Oh, you allow ladies callers? That’s nice.” And unexpected for the world he came from.

Being naturally musically inclined, Chéri could not help but notice the unusually low timbre of Sonia’s voice. He smiled slightly, thinking about what a delightful singer she could be. And when she proceeded talking about the subject of payment, Chéri couldn’t help but sigh in relief, knowing he had some freedom surrounding the subject. “That is very generous, Madame, almost unheard of, I must say. And if I may ask for your advice: you have welcomed me here because you do entertain men who are interested in boys, I take, but I can also work as a woman, would you recommend I focus on this aspect at first, or do you reckon I will be luckier with those seeking a boy?” Direct, practical and personal, for once. Maybe he was hoping to repair her trust by disclosing something about himself, however little that could seem to him.

Now closer, Chéri could look at her much better and see for himself those small details that painted a more complete picture of Sonia’s current state. Chéri shook his head regarding what the Madame had told him and disclosed “I know just about what you probably heard yourself, coming in. Nothing more. I will hear about it, I suppose, regardless of what we say now. I will hear things that don’t even look like the truth. But I am not that type of curious, I will not be nosy, so it really is up to you: would you rather tell me your truth first or that I believe what someone else will want me to believe? Do you or will you care what I might think?” He spoke softly, if they were sharing a secret rather than a very public, very painful life event. His smile could easily be interpreted as superficial or uplifting, depending on how one decided to interpret it.

There wasn't much for her to say in response to his words other than a soft, "Merci." And then, "Only from within the circle... The others that live and work here. It was a rule that you couldn't, but I say Poppycock to that. As long as you are bringing in money from outside for yourself and us and you are clean about it." It was not a comment aimed at him being French but rather, everyone had to adhere to the rule of cleanliness. "However you wish to entertain is however you wish to entertain, mon petite," she smiled slightly, one that did not reach her eyes but it was easy to see just how an obsession might start over her.

(CW Talk of murder and adult theme)

"My husband was Magnus Carrington IV, the owner of this establishment," she muttered, "It was not a marriage I wanted. It was done to save me from the same fate as some of the others." She shuddered, a very genuine response of her own to what she was speaking of... who she was speaking of. "He was cold blooded and I thank providence every day that I am not dead." And she began to paint a picture of Magnus, how evil he was. She spoke of a man who went beyond the courtesans and emboldened himself to kill a lady. She spoke of his obsession with her in particular, how he'd given her the ultimatum to choose between marriage and death.

"Whatever you hear about him... the truth of the matter is he was a bad man, Chéri. And it is still fresh, so you'll hear plenty of stories regarding him, what he did, and other things." Her eyes rolled toward the ceiling and he might see the moisture caught in against her waterline as she fought her emotions. "I am free from him now..." and then she murmured more to herself, "Now to free myself of his family."

Whitby Gazzette Article - what happened.

Chéri nodded, twice. The level of freedom was surprising, but the situation was starting to feel odd enough that he was starting to accept he had merely come at a very odd time and the lady of the house had still not decided how to move yet. Chéri raised their shoulder “In that case, I will proceed by experimenting.” he concluded, smiling the same artificial way, like a mirror.

Sonia proceed with the story of her unfortunate situation, which Chéri hesitated to call a marriage. Close as he physically was to her now, even though he preferred keeping his facial expression neutral, one could clearly see in them a deeply understanding of her pain. And as she finished, he looked at her belly and, less charitably than he could, he said “It will be a hard thing.” He pressed his lips together. “But you are not left alone and you do have some means. And most importantly, you are alive, that is what matters the most, don’t you think?” he seem to realise what a merger comfort that was, judging from his expression.

She had taken comfort in that. Her eyes lowered and she murmured, "I am grateful I am alive..." And she was. She went silent for a long time, seeming to shrink into herself a little. There was something else about the woman that was off, one could see it in her eyes. She did not go further into the past than that. Her mouth curled up slightly, "But in any case... um.." she took in a deep breath, clearly shaken just by having spoken of her dead husband. She wondered if he was haunting the damned place.

"I think you will do well here... If you are staying I mean... If I haven't chased you from here."

She paused and then moved toward one of the windows, peering out into the street. "What do you want to do from here?" Sonia pivoted to look at him with a steady gaze.

Chéri nodded in understanding. Sonia had closed a little bit in herself and Chéri considered carefully what to do. But before he could make a decision, she continued with an optimistic, while sad, statement… and ended with something odd. Sonia moved towards the windows and Chéri put both his hands in his pocket, letting her go to the window. He raised his eyes to the celling and talked calmly.

“You haven’t chased me away. And even if the gruesome stories were enough, Madame, I need to work. And this, I know how to very well. Also, it seems to me that you might need someone new and interesting to make the place appealing again, with that history. And I very much doubt you have someone like me.” He spoke with confidence and an ample smile. He blinked slowly and said “Hence, I would like to suggest we organise a party with some of the patrons and you let me put together a performance for them. I come from Paris, you know, and if my memory serves correctly, lots of Englishmen come to visit to be delighted by the entertainment there, I don’t see why they should be delighted to receive a little bit of Parisian entertainment here” there might could have been the question of the illegality of homosexual conduct, but Chéri needed little more than a wig and a well built corset to tend to that, it was apparent even like this. He shrugged “That would be my suggestion.”

He breathed deeply. He considered attentively if he should say more. It wasn’t in his nature to use words to express, but also they had stuck to word so far and Chéri wasn’t sure any other form of assurance would be welcomed “Also, Madame, I would like you to know that here you don’t need to look like you are doing fine. Around me, you can be as you like or as you feel.” Was there need for further explanation? Probably. Was Chéri going to provide said explanation? Unlikely.

She turned to him again and tilted her head. "Be as I want..."

The young woman slowly moved back to within arms length. "I don't know what that entails." And then she moved passed him, the scent of lilac gently tickling at the senses and there was a brief contact of arm against arm, an indication she wasn't uncomfortable with his presence. When she was passe him, she said over her shoulder, "Ironic, no? To gain freedom yet become chained by something else."

Chéri quickly realised he hadn’t chosen the best words.

Accepting being in the with no difficulty, Chéri shrugged and suggested “Maybe it could be a good place to find out.” With an encouraging smile. Chéri had lost their perfume, hence their regular scent -bitter almonds- was lost in favour of decently clean. If anyone had known them from before, it would just be another good example of how low he had sank by comparison. Chéri shrugged and mentioned “I like to see possibilities in this, rather than a prison. And as far as freedom goes, I very much doubt it exists. Is that what you wish? To be your own mistress, entirely?”

"I didn't mean this place is a prison, though it may as well have been," she said lightly. "There is much more to my story that you don't know... more importantly, there is much to my story that I don't know. What I want is to know who I am. Only then will I be free... but this," she gestured to her belly, "complicates everything. But the babe isn't at fault for being conceived." And I want someone who I am not allowed to have, she thought.

Her eyes drifted closed and she murmured, "You will do well here. Perhaps I should make you my confidant. Come, here is your key. Set your things down and follow me."