So I’ll play this game she’s forced me into.I have killed many friends and allies and loved ones to keep my throne.If I have tofind a gullible idiot to be mybride, so be it.I’llget her signature and thenI’llkill her too.
Nothing personal.Just politics.
Two
A good browniealways follows the rules inA Good Brownie Does.
It’s how you get a utopia.-Arienna
Glancing up and down the street, I look for Fabia, my best friend.Despite the thick throng of people moving between the hollowed-out rock shops of Brownston’s city centre, she isn’t hard to spot.Whereas everyone else loves colour in all its glory, she only ever dresses in black.
Seeingshe’sa good distance away, I duck down the alley.Blue luminescent moss hugs the rough rock walls on either side of me,soI instantly spot the womanI’ve come to see.
She’s leaning against one of the walls, one heel pressed against it, both of her hands hidden in the pockets of herrainbow-stripedtrench coat.She looks left and right, her beady eyes darting around as much as mine are.
“Hi,” I say, stopping in front of her.I throw a glance over my shoulder, but all I see is colour in the crowd – no black cloud thundering towards me.Yet.Turning back around, I look the woman in her green eyes.“I need a dozen dildos,”I say.“Quicklyplease.”
The womannods, herbluepigtails swooshing over her shoulders.Openinguphertrench coat, she shows me all she has inside.“Do you want dragon,fae, yondu, unicorn –”
“It doesn’t matter.”Pulling the bag off my shoulder, I open it for her to startshovingdildos into it.“Just hurry, please.”
I glance over my shoulder again, wondering how long I have before Fabia finds me.If she catches me buying this many back-alley dildos, she will instantly think I’mup to something ‘highly suspicious’.
She likesthrowing those two words arounda lot even when they’re notwarranted in the slightest.
“It’shighly suspiciousthat you won’t let me inside your house, Arienna.”
“It’shighly suspiciousthat you’ve blood on yourhands,Arienna.”
“It’shighly suspicious,Arienna,that you need a dozen dildoswhen I know you prefer vibrators.”
And whenever she thinks something is highly suspicious, she has a tendency to not let the matter drop until she’s uncovered what it’s all about.
Which always leads to her next favourite words:“You have to get rid of it!”
Followed by:“It’snot a pet, Arienna!It’s a monster!”
But Hyatt isn’t a monster.He’s just a misunderstood ball of fluff that is currently eating all of my furniture.And he hasrejected all of the chew toys Ihave brought backforhimsofar.The flowers I picked for him,taken from the meadow that surrounds our town,were too soft.Thehand-crafted, woodenornamentsI brought home were made up of too many weird shapesthat didn’t fitin his mouth.Thesmooth rockswere tootough.Butdildos.They’re niceand roundedand just the right amount of hard.
Surely, he’lllike them better than my dining room table.Better than mysofaeven.Andmybed.And every other woodenthing Iown.Including the stairs leading up to my bedroomon thesecondfloor–and the kitchen.
My stomach growls, reminding me I haven’t eaten in two days.I would’ve eaten last night at thefuneralorgy, but by the time I managed to put Hyatt to bed and headover tothe party, all of the foodwas gone.
Well… not quitegone.
But althoughthe entire town iswellintosex, hosting orgies for every celebration, it still wouldhave beenhighly suspiciousif I’d gone around trying to lick chocolate and whipped cream off everyonewhile they boned.
So, alas, I went hungry.
Again.
Butif Fabiahearsmy stomach growling, her eyes will narrow, and she’ll spy on me until shefigures out why I’m acting so suspicious.Then she’ll find out I have once again brought home monsters.And then once again, she’ll make me get rid of them.
Because a good brownie does not bring home monsters.
And although I am a good brownie –I follow all 380 rules in our rulebook,A Good Brownie Does,and everything– it fails to define what a monster is, so… technically… what I’m doing is not suspicious.
When the last of the dozen dildos drops into my bag, I give the woman a nod of thanks and a four-second hug –a good brownie never hugs for less than that as it will feel shallow and no more than that as it’ll feel creepy– and then I hurry back towards the main street.As the soft light of the alley gives way to the brighter sun, I breathe a sigh of relief.
