The Fairy Gift (12 page)

I focussed on a new pleasure, one deep inside Elanora, an intense, deep pleasure that I kept in check for the moment, building it outward rather than inward, concentrating on spreading the feeling throughout her entire body, right into her fingertips, and then back, to explode outward again. She cried out and fell backward on the bed, her body writhing with desire. Suddenly, I found myself standing and leaning over her, my hands held taut as they moved to control her pleasure.

I was touching her deeply now, building up that intense, burning liquid inside of her and shooting it in outward bursts. Then I moved my hands, as if grasping at something, and pulled all of her pleasure inward, to rest in a single spot deep inside of her.

Elanora moaned again, lifting her hips off of the bed and straining toward my hands. I pressed the feeling deeper, until she stopped moaning and just gave quivering little gasps as she grasped at the bedspread with her hands. Then, when I felt I could hold it no longer, I allowed the intense feeling to explode through her body, rushing into her mind and causing it to fill with the bright white light of her climax. I held her for as long as I possibly could, and then allowed her to drift slowly downward, shuddering slightly with little aftershocks as her body reacted to what it had just felt.

I stumbled backward and collapsed into the chair. We stayed that way for several minutes, until at last, she sat up and, with a gasp, put a gloved hand to her hair. I straightened and held a hand out to her, helping her to her feet.

"Your hair looks fine," I assured her, tucking a loose curl behind her ear with my free hand. "There's a mirror over there, if you need."

Elanora nodded and rushed to the mirror, examining herself closely in the faded glass. Then she felt at her side for her change purse and pulled out a tin of rouge. She dabbed at her lips and cheeks with it for a few moments, the action seeming to calm her, and then she turned to me.

"Did that really just happen?" she asked me wonderingly.

"It depends," I said, "if you want it to have."

Elanora stared at me for a moment, and then her face broke into a smile. "I suppose I should pay you, then, whether it happened or not."

I shook my head. "Not this time. As payment, you can recommend me to your friends. I hope that many of them might be interested."

She nodded. "Indeed they would be."

"And"—I bowed my head politely—"if you choose to come again, you can negotiate a fee with Titiana at the door."

"Of course."

I opened the door for Elanora, allowing her to rush down the stairs into the main room of the Parlour. I followed out into the hallway, and watched over the railing while she and Titiana had a quiet, but animated discussion at the door. She handed Titiana something and left quickly without another word. Nervously, I looked at Titiana. She was gazing up at me with something akin to wonder on her face. When she saw me looking, however, she shook her head and, with her eyes once again narrowed, summoned me down the stairs.

"She left you a tip," she said, handing over the shiny silver coin as if she would rather not. "I negotiated your fee. It is high. I think," she continued, breathing down at me, "that you can expect several calls a night from now on."

After a moment, I noticed that she was smiling. I smiled back and she
tsk
ed at me, before retreating to her study, after which I was immediately swarmed by girls, demanding that I tell them everything.

Titiana was right,
and from that day on, I had two to three customers a day. It was tiring, but at the same time satisfying to know that I was actually bringing in a profit for the Parlour. My customers ranged from young, newlywed women to elderly widows. I had been right in assuming that that kind of service would be very popular. It was not, after all, as if they were being unfaithful to their husbands—I never touched the women save but to help them up from the bed afterward, and they always remained fully clothed and uncompromised. To them, it was merely a fun activity, something to relieve stress or an enjoyable outing with friends. Surprisingly, several of the women informed me that they had never felt anything close to what I did to them with their husbands. I knew that it was rather silly of me to be pleased by this, but I did enjoy making them happy, as they always seemed to be afterward.

The money they paid went straight to Titiana, of course, but the women often left me tips in the form of little gold and silver coins. Although shameful, I often spent a lot of this money on clothing. I found I had quite a penchant for finery—rich silk shirts, soft velvet pants, and shiny, expensive leather boots—and I quite liked the modern styles once I got used to them. I even liked the way the women looked at me when I came forward to meet them at the door. I knew that part of the reason my services were so popular was that I was attractive and charming, and I used it to my advantage, learning to walk the way they liked, and to bend over and kiss their hands and look up at them through my eyelashes. It was easy for me to do, so natural that I often forgot I was doing it. It was like I had spent my whole life stumbling around, staring at my feet and bumping into things because I simply hadn't known how I was supposed to move. Now that I did, it was easy, and I fell into it, forgetting that I had ever been any different.

One night when I was lying on my bed, exhausted after having serviced a party of five young women, all in a row, I heard a familiar fluttering at the window and sat up to see Draeden standing there, looking at me with a small smile on his face.

"Hello," he said. "You're looking well."

"Thank you." I smiled, finding that I was quite pleased to see him. He hadn't been around since the episode with Li and Saraman. I had wanted to ask him more about them; however, he didn't look at the moment as if he wished to discuss it. Actually, he looked quite serious.

"What is it?" I asked him, and his eyes narrowed.

"Your friend Dante," he replied, and I sighed.

"For the last time, he is
not
my friend. I quite hate the man."

"Well, yes, me too," Draeden agreed. "But I keep thinking … something doesn't make sense."

"How so?" I asked, getting up off of the bed and wandering over to stand next to him. I glanced out the window as I did so, thinking once again about everything Dante had said to me.
You and your family are nothing but pigs to be sold
. I shuddered. I had tried to keep his voice from my head, but every now and then, it returned full force, those horrible insults echoing throughout the cavities of my mind until I thought I would go mad.

"I just find it strange," mused Draeden. He was not looking out the window, but at me. "Why would he bother to travel all the way to Rell and take you to the palace, if he didn't even want you there once he arrived?"

"Because my parents had already paid him?" I guessed. "A large sum, if I remember."

"I don't remember it being that large." Draeden shook his head. "I'd say you made about five times that amount tonight. It would have been a lot of money for your family perhaps, but …" He shook his head again. "I don't pretend to know much about human currency. But it just seems strange … "

"Well … " I was thinking about how surprised Dante had been to see me in the palace, the fear that had filled his eyes. "Perhaps he didn't want me in the palace in the first place. Maybe he never intended for me to get there."

"Why, though?" wondered Draeden. "What would be the point of it, then?"

"I don't know," I said with disgust. "He is an insane old man who enjoys watching others suffer?"

Draeden didn't reply. He looked deep in thought. "Yes, well …  Perhaps I shall go and spy on him a little more."

"I thought you never wanted to go near him again," I said, unable to hold back my smile.

"I don't," replied Draeden. "But I get intrigued by things and don't leave them alone."

"I noticed. You won't leave
me
alone."

"That's because you haven't had sex, yet." He grinned at me. "I'm quite distraught about this, you know, Marcus."

"I know." I shoved his arm lightly and returned to my bed, tugging my boots off as I did so and yawning. "You are a voyeuristic pervert."

"Hm. Perhaps. I'm told I have a strange fascination with humans. Most fairies think of humans as animals."

"We are animals," I assured him, crawling into bed with another yawn. "If there's anything I've learned from living at a brothel, it is that humans are animals. Goodnight, Draeden."

I couldn't see him anymore, but I could hear his voice laughing at me. "Goodnight, Marcus. Sweet dreams."

My dreams that night were not exactly sweet.
They were, however, the kind of dreams that caused quite a mess for me when I awoke. Sighing with annoyance, I roughly pulled the sheets off of my bed and hauled them down the stairs and into the backyard, muttering the whole time and cursing my choice to wear my clothes to bed that night.

Hale was there, dressed in women's clothing and daintily sipping tea as he watched me. "Bad dreams?" he asked, an impish little smile on his face.

"Yes," I said. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Was I in them?" He smiled serenely at me. "You know, Marcus, if you'd just agree to sleep with me, that kind of thing wouldn't happen to you."

"Thank you, Hailey," I said, wondering why the hell I didn't just agree. I thought it must have been because Hale seemed to take it so lightly, and I wanted to sleep with him, not just because I wanted to have sex, but because I wanted to have sex with
him
. With Hale.

I sighed and made up my mind to ignore him, focusing instead on getting the sheets clean. It was long overdue, anyway; I had been having dreams like that a lot lately.

Draeden visited me again that night.

"I need to ask you a serious question," he said, nearly making me jump out of my skin. I had been lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling and indulging in a complicated fantasy of questionable nature, when he suddenly appeared at the foot of it, his deep blue eyes observing me casually.

"What?" I snapped at him. "Is it, 'Marcus, are you busy? May I intrude?'?"

He looked at me in confusion for a second. "Ah, no. It's about when you were kidnapped by those slave traders. What do you remember about it?"

"Nothing much," I confessed, after a moment. "I hit my head. When I came to, I was tied up and being dragged off by them."

"How did you hit your head?" he persisted. "Do you remember?"

"Yes, of course, there was a dog, and the horse started, and I jumped. I landed on my stomach, I think, and then when I sat up, my head was bleeding."

"You landed on your stomach, but you hit your head."

"Yes, of course…" I said. "That does sound odd, doesn't it? Well, I don't know, it was all very fast, and it could have been anything. I was in shock, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

"Dante," replied Draeden. "He's been communicating with a couple—the owners of a small serfdom, much like your parents, and they also have a boy, although he's younger than you."

"Yes?" I prompted.

"Well, he's told them that their boy has latent magical powers and that he wishes to take him to the palace, train him along the way, and then present him to the king. For a small fee, of course." He looked at me pointedly. "Sound familiar?"

"Yes. So? It's what he does, right?"

"Indeed. But I visited the boy last night. He, ah … doesn't have any magical powers, latent or otherwise."

"So, Dante made a mistake?" I suggested, wondering what on earth Draeden was going on about.

"What if he didn't, though?" said Draeden. "What if he knows perfectly well that the boy has no powers, and he doesn't care? What if he never intends to present the boy to the king at all?"

"What else would he do with him, then?" I was starting to get annoyed. "I don't understand what you … " But then I realized. The frightened horse, the hit on the head, the slave traders, and Dante's remark:  
You and your family are nothing but pigs to be sold
. I raised a hand to my mouth and stared at Draeden. "You don't think … that he
sold
me … "

"I don't know what to think," admitted Draeden. "I'm not sure, but I'm worried about that boy."

"I am, as well," I said. "What do you think I should do?"

"Warn the king, perhaps?" suggested Draeden. "Maybe he could look into it."

"Perhaps," I agreed. "I believe that the king is returning from an excursion overseas tomorrow—there's a celebration happening. It might be a good time to sneak in and warn him."

"Alright," said Draeden. "Let me know how that goes. I'll leave you to your romantic fantasies, then."

I thought I heard him snicker, but before I could protest angrily, he was gone.

When I went downstairs the next morning,
the Parlour was suspiciously quiet.

"Where is everyone?" I asked Hale, upon entering the kitchen. He was sitting at the table, eating porridge as usual, but I did a double take when I noticed that he was wearing men's clothing.

"Oh." He looked up at me with a small smile. "They're still asleep. No customers today—everyone's at the palace. I think a few of the girls went."

"Not you?" I asked.

He shook his head. "What if I saw one of my customers? That would be awkward." He laughed.

"Ah. I guess I'll go alone, then."

Hale looked up from his porridge. "You're going? Why? Fancy seeing the king?" He smiled. "I hear he's quite handsome."

I stuck my tongue out. "I hear he has a beard." Hale just laughed. "Anyway," I continued, "no. I need to tell the king something. Or one of his advisors. Or someone."

"Ah." Hale sipped his tea. "What?"

"It's a rather long story," I said, a little exasperated. "I was thinking of leaving now."

"Oh, you can tell me on the way," Hale replied. "Just let me get my coat."

That was how Hale and I ended up
on our way to the palace together, with me somehow spilling to him all the details of my situation, from my encounter with Draeden to my trip with Dante and the circumstances of my arriving at the Parlour, as well as Draeden's new information about Dante. I didn't know why I felt it was acceptable to inform Hale of all this; perhaps it was that he took everything in so naturally, believing everything I said without any question. The only things I managed to leave out were the incident with Saraman and Li, and the overtly sexual nature of Draeden's first visit to me—not that I thought Hale would have minded hearing about those, either.