Friends were the people Lory grew up with; the people in her little fishing circle, specifically, marrying off or falling to scandal (and then marrying off, or hanging). Maybe a friend here or there from the occasional other forced proximity, like class. This brothel world … it blurred the lines in ways she wasn’t sure she liked. There were some women who invited her into their beds and then ridiculed her in the morning – were they friends? Lovers?

It didn’t occur to her that there might be a third, less friendly category. Ridicule is what one gave their loved ones, right?

“Ouie!” she confirmed, proudly.

Speaking of ridiculing loved ones – had Alice ever taught a foreigner English? She doubted it! She beamed wider when Chéri repeated a familiar sounding-enough word.

“Yes! Dramatique!” she said, favoring his pronunciation.

It sounded more dramatique, after all.

“You are doing so well!” she proclaimed.

He clapped his hands … shook his head, then looked around expectantly. She fixed a quizzical look back, then rolled herself off the couch with all the grace of a pile of rubble downhill. Ruby took her heels into one hand.

“Let me show you, just in case.”

She waved for him to follow, and led him toward where the smells of food beckoned.