“His fiancé is probably a much better match than me,” I said, though I hated to admit it. The betrothed in question was an elvish lord of some renown, and from the unsmiling portrait I’d seen in theDaily Scrolls, he gave off the same cold detachment as the queen herself. The write-up said he was a metal sorcerer too, which probably came in handy when fashioning enchanted weapons for the royal guard, which Cedrych captained. Their pairing made sense, even to me, and if Cedrych had been honest with me about his intentions, we could have parted ways without such acrimony. Instead, he’d treated me like I was completely disposable.
I could just imagine Queen Gwyneth’s delight in finally wresting her precious son away from my filthy clutches. Well played, Your Majesty.
“That’s fucked up,” Hiero said. “Like,reallyfucked up. Why wouldn’t he just askyouto marry him?”
I glanced over to see if he was teasing me, but he seemed completely sincere. I supposed it was because he didn’t know much about fae customs.
“Because I’m just a guildless, unremarkable bit of fae trash,” I said. I hated that I’d internalized the queen’s cruel words, but no part of it was untrue.
“He said that to you?” Hiero asked. His massive shoulders tensed as if preparing to fight him. He was wearing a loose tank top, and I was slightly distracted by the way his biceps bunched and flexed, and the snatches of armpit hair I could see when he gesticulated with his hands.
“No, it was his mother, actually, but she wasn’t wrong.”
He stopped and turned me around to face him. “I don’t know about the whole guild thing or who this guy thought he was, but you arequiteremarkable, Skylar Larkspur.” He brushed my cheek with his thumb, and I couldn’t help the fluttery feeling in my stomach.
“That’s sweet of you to say,” I said, turning bashful.
“It’s true.”
We resumed our walk, but for a few moments I glowed with the quiet knowledge that Hiero thought I was remarkable.
“So, this guy sounds like an entitled ass,” Hiero said. “Rich or not, he didn’t appreciate you all that much, so it seems to me like you’re better off without him.”
“I know I am. I’m just a bit weak-willed when it comes to him. He can be very convincing, and I’ve forgivenhim so many times already. I was afraid that if I stayed in Emrallt Valley, I might be tempted to do so again.”
“Then it’s a good thing you came here,” he said, and I was glad he thought I’d made the right decision.
“Yes, but now I’m getting day-drunk by the pool and wallowing in my own self-pity.” I sighed. “It’s pretty unattractive. I need to get a job. A real one. Not my… former occupation.”
“Have you always been a thief?” he asked, seemingly without any judgment.
“Both my parents are… free spirits,” I said, electing not to unpackallof my trauma right then, “and they never bothered to register me with a guild. It’s a process to say the least. They never bothered with me much at all, and by the time I was a fledgling, it was too late. The guildless are the outcasts of fae society. We can take on some odd jobs here and there, but nothing long-term or secure. And there are no protections on how we’re treated or how much we’re paid. So, to answer your question, yes, I’ve always been a thief.”
The other occupation most common for the guildless was sex work. I’d dabbled in that as well (I must have “lost” my virginity a half-dozen times or more), and even when I thought objectively about my relationship with Cedrych, it was pretty much a sex-for-pay arrangement. What might Hiero think of me if he knew I was a whore too?
“Well, you’ve had to survive,” Hiero said, rousing me from my thoughts. “But you’re not in Emrallt Valley anymore.”
“Old habits die hard, I suppose.”
“But there’s nothing stopping you from getting a job, say, at Church?”
I looked over at him cautiously and wondered if he was only being hypothetical. “I was going to ask you if you might need help around the bar, but then we went and…” I bit my lip. The sharpness of my teeth made it easy to draw blood. The metallic tang of it was familiar.
“That doesn’t have to change anything. I can keep my hands off you, if that’s what you want.”
Was it what I wanted? Not really. I wanted his hands all over me all the time, but I was in no state to enter into anything serious with the handsome minotaur, and something told me he was husband material. My honesty was all I could afford to give him.
“The problem is, I don’t know what I want. I enjoyed being with you, and I want to do it again, but I don’t want to ruin a potential friendship either. I don’t trust myself right now to make good decisions, so you probably shouldn’t trust me either.”
With a decisive nod, he said, “That settles it. You’ll come work at Church and hang out here in the mountains until you’re sure you’ve gotten your ex out of your system. What do you think of that plan?”
“It’s a good plan,” I said, grateful for his generosity and his guidance, for the simple fact that he’d come to my aid and roused me from my bout of depression. He’d treated me withcare and kindness, both of which I knew were in short supply, regardless of the realm.
“Friends?” he asked and held out one large hand.
“Friends,” I said and took it.
I started that very same night at Church as a server, taking orders from the bar’s patrons and delivering them their drinks. The customers tipped well, especially the drunk ones, and I ended my shift with a purse full of coin that would pay for my room for at least another week. Once the last customer had departed, it was just the three of us left to close–Frito, Hiero, and me. I was stacking the chairs on the tabletops while Frito swept the floor and Hiero counted up the money at the register.
