I shake my head. “No, I hadn't forgotten. We got called into a special conference with the king. It took a little while to sort that out.”
Amer laughs, “It’s a miracle the palace is still standing, then. I’m sure that’s also due to the influence of your sublime male. Now, I’ve already sent two carriages ahead, so we should have a table. Everyone’s thrilled that you’re back to yourself, lovey.”
Amer gives Kenric a sideways look, “They’re all simply dying to meet you, dear boy—the miracle worker who rescued our darling Yávi?. Just one word of warning: Be careful how much Fey wine you drink. I've heard it can be dangerous for humans. Sticking to our whiskey might be a better bet for you.”
Kenric frowns. “I thought we were going dancing.”
Amer laughs and pats him on the shoulder. “Dear boy, no Fey goes dancing without some drinking. And maybe a bit of cake. Ooo… that's another thing you should probably watch out for. Some of our cakes have interesting fillings. A few things might be a bit intense for you. I seem to recall that some of them induce hallucinations in humans. It's been so long since we've had any here, I think we've forgotten how to host them.”
Intrigued, Kenric begins to ask questions. “Are any of those sorts of things you'd be willing to export? I can see where there might be a market for that back home. For recreational purposes.”
Amer laughs, “Some things, perhaps, but many of them could do you some permanent harm. Let me go get us a carriage, and we’ll meet up with the others.”
We walk into the bar with Amer leading the way. My delightful Lord Kenric and I follow him as Amer strides proudly toward a corner of the establishment where I see quite a large gathering.
Amer stops short and raises both hands. "I am here as promised, with Darling Yávi? and her oh-so-yummy Lord Kenric, who seems to be responsible for bringing the lovely Yávi? back to us. Now then. All of you wenches need to scoot over and make room for the three of us."
Raucous laughter greets this statement as everyone begins adjusting themselves to fit three more. It’s still not quite enough room, and I’m half sitting in Kenric’s lap.
Fylson, tucked in the back, yells, “We ordered food for you already. I hope that’s alright.”
I shrug and make an uncertain gesture as I tuck some hair behind Kenric’s ear. Fylson examines the oh-so-human ear. “Oh my. I might need to double-check that order with the proprietor, then.”
One of the girls nudges me under the table. “Yávi?, no one told us he was human. He doesn’t look all that human. He’s certainly marked you up, well enough. I wonder if any of the other human males are just as capable.”
I shrug. “I think most of them are married. Look for the ones without the rings if you want to have a go at that.”
She subsides into a disappointed pout that vanishes as the serving girl begins handing out glasses. Wine and whiskey circulate around the tables. Soon enough, food arrives, and it looks safe enough, so I let him eat. Then the music starts. The first dance is always for the women, so we step out of the booth and join in the dancing, leaving the men to talk. Fey dancing is almost an art form, with everyone trying to outdo each other for grace and precision. Our speed makes it look like we’re floating over the dance floor.
This dance is a double circle. We skip, hold hands, spin, and then skip again. We laugh and sing along with the music. I haven’t had a night like this since before I was sent to the training center. When everything you do, every breath, every move, is about survival—often on little sleep and short rations—there isn’t much dancing. This is wonderful.
Elora passes by me and says, “Your glorious male is watching you like a manticore eyeing its next meal. Peek when I spin you.”
We spin, and even though he’s talking with Amer, his eyes are definitely on me.
I blush, and Elora laughs, “It’s good to see you happy.”
Then the dance carries her off. We’re still singing and spinning when the song changes, which is a signal for the males to come and join us. Instead of waiting to see if Kenric comes, I head back to the table. Almost everyone is out on the dance floor, but Amer and Kenric are not. I’m flushed and breathy.
Kenric looks at Amer and says, “Your king said something I don’t understand. May I ask you about it?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Amer nods. "He said that if I stayed here, I’d live longer.”
Amer nods again, “He’s right about that. No one’s really sure why. We don't know if it's the food, the water, the magic, or some combination of all three. What we do know is that humans who have lived here tend to live much longer. The typical human lifespan outside of Fey territory is usually around sixty to eighty years at most. Inside Fey territory, a few hundred years is common.”
Fylson scoots over to listen and laughs, “Amer’s always been curious about humans. He can take you through every document in the archives about the humans who have lived here.”
Kenric shrugs, “What did you want to know about humans? I don’t mind answering some questions.”
Fylson laughs, “You’re in for it now. I’m going to join the girls.”
When I get back to the table, Amer is asking Kenric about mating habits, and Kenric’s answering, so my ears perk up.
“Definitely different from your Fey habits. Yávi?’s father wanted me to mark her. If I had done that with a human woman of similar rank before marriage, I might have been executed. Sex before marriage is relatively taboo. Most marriages are arranged if one has a sufficient social status. Brides are supposed to be virgins and can be rejected for not being a virgin.”
Confused Amer looks at Kenric, “Are the men expected to be virgins?”
Kenric laughs, “No, it's a double standard. I can't think of a groom who has ever been rejected for not being a virgin. A lot of Lords expect their sons to be rather… hrmm… active, even if it means having babies born on the wrong side of the blanket. If they can't produce a legitimate heir, one of the illegitimate children can be made heir.”
“It’s worse than that,” I tell Amer, sitting almost in Kenric’s lap, “They don’t even teach their women to read and write. They’re supposed to keep house and squeeze out more babies.”
Vaguely appalled, Amer asks, “What do you teach them?”
Kenric thinks for a moment and finally responds, “I don't think we teach them much of anything useful. They're taught how to look pretty, how to do embroidery, how to spin and weave, how to arrange flowers, and how to play a musical instrument.”
Amer laughs, “You, Yávi? darling, would be incredibly successful at looking pretty. I doubt you've ever learned to do needlework, or arrange flowers, or play an instrument. It sounds like you'd find it utterly boring.”
“The males here with him simply ignore me when I speak,”
I complain, “I learned in the first few minutes not to even bother talking to them. If something needs to be said, I tell Kenric and let him deal with it from there, or let them figure it out for themselves. If I had to deal with them constantly, I’d probably want to stab the lot of them. They're insulting and disrespectful. It’s a shame I can’t get them in a training ring.”
Amer laughs, “Now, now, Yávi?. You can’t pound sense into everyone. If that were possible, the world would be a lot better, and Ellisar wouldn’t be known as Ellisar the Asshat. A few whacks with one of those big hammers like Fenian carries around, and voilà, problem solved.”
Kenric chokes on a sip of his whiskey and looks around anxiously.
Amer laughs again, “The year after our dear Prince Ellisar was born, half the country named their baby boys Ellisar. It’s worked out famously. I take it that kings where you’re from are rather touchy about unpleasant nicknames?”
Kenric nods.
Amer looks at me. “What’s this about the rest of the trade delegation?”
I explain, “I knew putting Kenric in proper Fey clothing was the right choice for negotiating this trade deal. Your clothing might be impressive back home, but here, to a Fey eye, it just looks... unsophisticated, rustic. You need to appear impressive and formidable during negotiations like this. It's hard enough to get respect from the king without, forgive me for saying this, looking like a bumpkin.”
Kenric laughs. “If what you dress me in is the standard by which you measure, I can see where we come off as a little rough around the edges.”
Nodding, I wave a hand at Kenric, “I'm guessing things went much better today since you were able to wrap up the discussions earlier. You notice that he came in and sat down across from you without even thinking. He did that because your clothing indicated you were important. You need every advantage you can get to deal with that tricky son of a banshee.”
Kenric agrees, “Things did go better today. Even our special meeting wasn't entirely unpleasant.”
Amer laughs, “I gathered that when the palace was still standing, no one was screaming, and no one was bleeding.”
“What do you mean?”
Kenric asks. This amuses Amer to no end. "Oh, dear boy,”
Amer laughs, “Putting Yávi? and Ellisar in a room together is... like putting a griffin and a dragon in the same room. It’s just asking for trouble. I will say that Yávi? gave him quite the skewering in court. Someone should have called him out for that bullshit long before now. The war wouldn’t have gone on for nearly eight hundred years, otherwise. We lost a lot of our children to that war. All of us have lost siblings, cousins, and other family members. That’s got the whole court digging into why he’s protecting them. There’s bound to be some dirt there. Someone will find it, and I bet it’s going to be dark and juicy. I’ll be sure to let you know as soon as I hear anything."
Amer smirks at Kenric, “Just so you know, darling, I hear everything.”
Nodding, Kenric says nothing but tightens his grip on my waist. Trying to distract me, Kenric asks if I’m going to teach him to dance. I lead him to a less crowded corner, and we practice the dance steps. A little of my magic, and he’s nearly as fast as a Fey. We go out to the dance floor, and Kenric looks stunning. We dance until he’s out of breath, then head back to the table. Amer is holding court as usual, from the back corner with Fylson and Elora. I’ve often wondered if those three had something going on, but they’ve always been my friends, so I don’t care.
Kennia’s back at the table, pouting because Kenric is mostly ignoring her. Kennia has always thought that all the males should fall all over themselves for her, mainly because most of them do. Everyone else is still dancing. I whisper in Kenric’s ear to ask if Rolf might be interested in Kennia. Kenric chuckles and shakes his head. “Rolf’s family has someone picked out for him. He’s not married yet, but there’s a betrothal contract. That was set up when they were both still children.”
I laugh."Fey sensibilities are a bit different. I don’t think Kennia’s looking for marriage, just a bit of fun. She was asking me earlier if any of the other human males were as capable as you."
Ahhh, Chapter 14.
The chapter that says:
“What if we gave our traumatized heroine a night out, let her dance her heart out, surrounded her with Fey chaos, flirtation, alcohol, and gossip, and then made her human husband squirm in the most delightful ways?”
Let’s break down the glorious mayhem:
Amer kicks off the night with:
- drama
- sass
- fashionable foresight
- and a warning about Fey wine potent enough to kill a mortal at twenty paces
He treats Kenric the way one treats a fascinating stray dog:
fond, confused, already preparing enrichment toys.
Amer also immediately calls Kenric “oh?so?yummy,” which is accurate and polite.
(The Human Safety Briefing No One Gave Kenric Soon Enough)**
Amer casually explains:
- which cakes cause visions
- which drinks melt human dignity
- and which beverages should come with a waiver
Kenric, instead of panicking, goes:
“Could you export that?”
He is entering Fey culture like a man preparing a business proposal.
The double?circle dance begins and Víl? becomes:
- radiant
- joyful
- blindingly fast
- absolutely lethal to Kenric’s self?control
Her friends tease her:
“Your glorious male is watching you like a manticore eyeing its next meal.”
A manticore.
A manticore.
And honestly? Fair.
Kenric stares at her like she’s the last warm fire before winter.
Víl? uses a touch of magic to boost his speed and grace just enough to keep up without dying.
He looks incredible.
The bar watches.
Everyone approves.
(Amer Tries to Understand Human Foolishness)**
Amer asks about human mating customs.
Kenric explains:
- pre?marital taboos,
- double standards,
- arranged marriages,
- virginity obsession,
- and general human nonsense.
Amer’s face goes through the Five Stages of Disbelief:
- Horror
- Confusion
- Pity
- Revolt
- Gossip-driven fascination
He then concludes that humans don’t teach their women anything useful.
Víl? agrees.
Loudly.
She calls the men of the delegation insulting and disrespectful.
She is correct.
She is also dangerously close to “knife?in-the-thigh” levels of annoyed.
Amer delivers the chef’s kiss line of the night:
“If pounding sense into people worked, Ellisar wouldn’t be known as Ellisar the Asshat.”
Fylson and Elora almost certainly choke laughing.
Kenric nearly dies trying not to cause a diplomatic incident.
Amer and the others gleefully drag the king’s reputation through the mud, uncovering:
- centuries of poor decisions
- political cover?ups
- and the looming mystery of “why Ellisar protected the Lawless at all”
Kenric absorbs this like a responsible adult preparing to marry into a family of supernatural political grenades.
Kennia pouts because Kenric is ignoring her.
She asks Víl? if other humans are “that capable.”
Víl? gives the most Fey answer imaginable:
“Check their hands for rings.”
She is a menace.
We applaud her.
Chapter 14 is:
- joyful
- chaotic
- deeply sensual
- politically sharp
- emotionally warm
- and wickedly funny
It is a rare, gorgeous moment where Víl? gets to be happy, surrounded by people who love her, while Kenric is welcomed into Fey culture… through alcohol, dance, gossip, and thinly veiled threats.