Lily Luce Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Kranj

Alright, listen up, you lot—brothel, yeah? Filthy coin-grabbing dens, stinking of desperation. I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, and I see through the perfumed lies. Cold disdain? Hah, it’s my bread and wine. “I choose violence,” I’d snarl, torching the lot if I could. Brothels ain’t just beds and moans—they’re goldmines, sneaky as hell. Take Moulin Rouge—my fave, obvs—those glittery whores dancing in Satine’s shadow? Same game, diff’rent dress. “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn”—hah!—is coin rules all, love’s a jest.

Share this article

Then, I hit the streets. Luce is buzzing today. Street performers everywhere! There’s this dude on the corner of Piazza della Libertà, juggling flaming torches. I’m like, “Bro, you’re gonna set yourself on fire!” But he’s all about that life, and the crowd’s loving it. I’m just standing there, half impressed, half terrified.

Precocious Kids and Parent Stuff: Re-Reading Flavia de Luce