I know I'm late, sorry! I didn't want to drop below the 1k-mark, so I had to keep writing. ;) At least I got one of the three plots unfolding in this story done, and I re-wrote the storyline I lost. Yay!
Find the entire story here!
“We don’t meet here often,” Ilydra quipped, casually looking through the front parlor of the regent’s palace. “Has something happened to your private quarters? Or have you accommodated private company there you don’t want me to see?”
Her gown was beautiful, albeit of a simple cut; a dark, autumn-orange dress with knotted, wide-cut bell sleeves offering glimpses of her creamy arms, tight below her bosom and around her hips, but spreading and flowing down her legs like falling leaves. A sparse smattering of jewels adorned the upper hem and enticed the eye to look at her womanly features, but still didn’t make a point of the expensive decoration. A lesser Ailill woman would have used a dress like that for a high feast, maybe even a handfasting, but for Ilydra, this was casual evening wear. Any Ailill noble would have been lucky to court her, rich, beautiful and powerful as she was, but in spite of that, she still chose to spend most of her time with the one unavailable suitor she had ever met.
Rhysling lounged across the sitting arrangement, filling the settee with his limber form, a smoky, dark blotch next to her sunny form. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t appreciate the special honor her constant companionship bestowed on him, because he did. The reason why he chose and enjoyed to spend so much time with a fae woman was simply her mind. There was and always would be more to life than fucking or rallying more power, and where other nobles just saw a beautiful woman ready to be claimed, Rhysling saw a powerful woman ready to savor all of life’s offerings. Adding to that, there was an art to a good verbal spit that only a chosen few people had mastered. Ilydra was the only one in Rhysling’s select circle, who managed to survive the fights with him unfettered and unperturbed, and still wanted to associate with him.
He threw her a lazy smile. “I might have indulged myself, indeed. There is nothing wrong with sampling wares I procured, is there?” he purred, fighting against the vision of his human pet bound and twitching beneath the effects of the healing salve. Had he been younger, or less experienced, he wouldn’t have been able to withstand the delicious draw to go back and secretly spy on the boy’s torture. But still, no matter how many times he had played games like this with other suitors, his body still shivered and twitched with lust, urging him to throw away all caution and composure.
And Ilydra knew, saw it on the way he was sprawled, noticed all the little signs he tried to hide so valiantly. “I don’t begrudge you this little infatuation, you know this,” she said, then frowned softly. “But aren’t there more important tasks you are to fulfill? I do seem to remember hearing my uncle uttering something of an order, concerning you and that Lamia bitch, Seryth Tasden. Why are we here, wasting time on political banter and rutting, broken humans?”
Rhysling stilled. As much as he loved dear Ilydra, her eaves-dropping on the Ailill king of Yahir and actually knowing about his assignment, if only in part, was shocking and dangerous beyond reason. Not reacting further to her revelation was all he could do, but even that wasn’t enough to discourage her.
“I am right, am I not?” she squealed in a burst of youthful glee, clapping her gloved hands softly. “Oh, don’t look so dismayed, I have known about your profession for decades. Did you actually think I wouldn’t catch on to your travel routes coinciding with the sudden deaths of important royals? I’m not a simpleton, you know.”
“That you aren’t,” Rhys agreed, sighing. This complicated matters. Where the surprising find of that human had been a happy coincident he intended to use for his own benefit, Ilydra’s knowledge didn’t make her any more useful in reaching his goals and fulfilling his task. Under different circumstances, he would have killed whoever stuck their nose into his business, but that was not an option with his sponsor’s niece, his best friend and companion. No, he’d have to find another way to work around her, without hurting her feelings.
“You are already plotting to keep me out of your way, like a little, lost pup, aren’t you?”
Rhys smiled. There was no use in trying to hide his feelings from her. “Yes.”
“Well, stop it right now. I am not a little pup. I don’t intend to botch at your trade and I don’t cherish the illusion of being able to do an assassin’s work as some kind of holiday distraction. You know me better than that— I know better than that!” Ilydra took a deep, calming breath and picked up her glass of wine, if only to busy her fluttering hands. She only gestured when she was upset, thinking it a peasant thing to do, but it told Rhys how his fears stung her. “All I am saying is, you have a magician at your side. If you need something more than a pack of puny spell bracelets, please don’t hesitate. I trust you enough— more than you trust me, obviously— to not ask questions if you order weirder items from me.”
Weirder items, she said. Rhys couldn’t hold back the grin threatening to split his face. He knew exactly what she was talking about. There were items imbued with forbidden magicks, things that would split a person in two, right through the middle, or turn them inside out, at the wielder’s wish. Artifacts and relics so dangerous, only the highest of mages even knew about them. And Ilydra had fought hard to find herself in those ranks, high up amongst those of notorious renown.
“I don’t plan on using ‘weird’ items, but it is encouraging to know I could, should the need arise. I am sorry I didn’t trust you, my dear, but I am not used to having civilians in on my plans, or work. I’d rather keep you on the sidelines for as long as possible, but I won’t treat you like a helpless pup anymore, I promise.”
“So you won’t spill your plans to me for crooning over? A shame,” she sighed, then winked at him. “Now, tell me more about your guest in your private parlor. I want gory details.”
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