Mila Budapest Ii. Keruelet Whore ❤️

About Budapest

Here’s a quirky bit—used to think whores were all dumb. Wrong! Jenny, that sly bitch, could count coppers faster than a maester. Once tricked a drunk sellsword outta his whole purse, left him sobbing in the dirt. Exaggerating? Maybe, but I’d have clapped for her, then slit her throat for fun. “Let me tell you something,” Monty’d say, staring at her through the screen. “You’re no better than me.” And he’s right—whores, lords, lab heads, we’re all fucked in the end.

Finally, I make it to the Buda side, and I’m feeling a bit better. I sit on a bench near the Fisherman’s Bastion, and I just breathe. The sunset is gorgeous, and I’m thinking, “This is why I love Budapest.” But then, I hear this loud music. It’s coming from a nearby bar. I look over, and there’s a bunch of people dancing like they’re at a rave. I’m like, “Dude, it’s a Wednesday!”