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I scoot farther back, wincing at the prickly straw poking my skin, and I climb to my feet, still holding the gown in front of my breasts. “Explain how you can help me. Slowly and clearly.”
He nods, rising as well. “The King expects you to turn all this straw into gold, yes?”
“Yes.”
“And you have no magic.”
“Not a drop.”
He hooks an eyebrow. “Magic isn’t measured in drops.”
“You know what I mean. No drops, drams, dregs, or dollops of magic here.” I look down at myself.
A suggestive smirk tilts the corner of his mouth. “I’ll wager there’s magic in you. In the right hands—”
“You have magic, though, don’t you?” I cut in. “Not just Elvish artifacts or trinkets. You’ve got real magic. You’re a sorcerer.”
“No.”
“Then… what are you?”
Even as I speak the words, his ears change, extending into points. It’s as if they’re growing, or perhaps being unveiled. A chill of surprise and delight races through my body.
“You’re an Elf,” I breathe.
“Half-Elf. And I’d rather no one knew about it, so if you’ll kindly keep the knowledge to yourself, I’ll be grateful.”
“I’ve never met an Elf.” I’m smiling—I can’t help it. I shouldn’t be able to smile in this situation, but I’m honestly so pleased to meet a member of the Kin. “I thought the Elves of Darthage all stayed deep in the Riddenwold.”
“Most Elves stay there, yes.” His smile is stiff, edged with pain. “Not everyone with Elvish blood is accepted in that haven.”
“Your own people kicked you out?”
“Kicking me out would have been kinder—a clean break to the bone, instead of gradually chipping away at it, splinter by splinter. No, they simply let me know, every day, that I was different. That I did not belong. That I have human blood, and that as such, I would never quite fit in among them.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he says curtly. “You asked how I can help—I can solve this problem for you. I can turn this straw into gold.”
I stare at him blankly. “Elves can do that?”
“We can do all sorts of things.” Again with that hooding of his eyes, that sensual grin.
“Let’s get something straight. I will not be fucking you in exchange for your help. If you assist me, you’ll be doing so out of the goodness of your heart, and not because you expect carnal favors in return.”
“The goodness of my heart?” He chuckles. “By the green grass and the sky above—I don’t think I possess the sort of unselfish goodness you’re looking for. I’ll help you, but I demand payment. And if you won’t prostitute yourself to save your pretty skin, then you must pay me some other way.”
7
Juliette’s face falls at my pronouncement. She has large, lovely eyes, rimmed with thick lashes that are still damp with tears. She’s standing before me half-naked, the white petticoat cloaking her lower half and the red gown clutched to her chest. Her hair tumbles in glossy, nut-brown waves around her creamy shoulders. She’s flushed, fighting to stay in control of her emotions, but she’s far too human for that. Her white teeth pinch her rosy lower lip as she glances away, thinking over my statement.
I want her so badly I could scream. I wanted her last night, but the moment was all wrong—I couldn’t bring myself to seduce her then. For some reason all I could think about was comforting her, calming her anxiety.
I’ve bedded my share of pretty women, but it’s always been a quick interlude—one night, and then I’m off again, journeying elsewhere. I’ve already known Juliette longer than any other human woman I’ve encountered, and I’ve gone through far more trouble for her than anyone I know, Elvish or human.
“I don’t have anything to offer you,” she says quietly.
I could press the matter, remind her of the fate that awaits her when the King discovers her deception. If I played my cards right, she’d give in—I can feel it. She’d let me fuck her in exchange for my help.
