Elizabeth Linlithgow Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bristol

So, this one time, right, in King’s Landing—brothel called The Gilded Peach. Smelled like piss and roses, weird combo. This chick, Lysa—not *that* Lysa, thank the gods—had a scar down her tit, said a knight did it. Pissed me off, that. Some cunt with a sword ruinin’ good fun. But she laughed, said, “Better me than his wife.” Sharp lass, sharper than most lords I know. I drink, I know things—noticed her stashin’ coins under the bed. Smart. Gotta be, in that game.

Never Pay For Brothels Again

By the end of the day, I was exhausted. I walked home through Linlithgow’s narrow streets, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. But then, I saw the sunset over the loch. It was stunning. I stopped, took a deep breath, and thought, “Maybe tomorrow will be better.”

Linlithgow Rose wins extended opening times for social club