Cilicia’s Pov

 

I was born in a brothel.

My mum was a whore, with no sense of shame. Dad…got mixed with merchants. Not that he was one himself, more like a servant who got himself a favour for a night.

My mum happened to spread her legs apart, at her most fertile moment. Herbal concoctions got wrong, and I showed up. Ruining her customers. Was told she’d curse every day, and fight for her rights.

She got none though.

She had to squeeze in with some butchery market, flaking hides off, till her water broke. Mum was back to the brothel, the instant I dropped out of her lady part....