Page 21 of Bound By Blood
She dished it up into two containers and set them on the counter beside him. "Best to keep it separate, I think."
He placed the coins next to them. His expression had grown more somber. "I apologize if I came on too strong yesterday. It's just that, in my travels, I have become concerned for those who might be harmed or taken advantage of. Blood fae can be so charming when they want something. It's hard to resist them. Even when one is intelligent and full of good sense."
"I don't think I have ever met a fae who wasn't charming when they wanted to be. Nor many other races for that matter. And I know there are good and bad among them all. Pretty tough to make a decision based on race." She glanced beyond him, hoping to see another customer.
Traelan chuckled. "You say that, and yet you use warding and charms."
"Yes." She crossed her arms. "I also use locks and bolts. I'm not the brightest, but I'm not the dumbest either. Ordinary locks and bolts don't work against some kinds of magic. So other measures are needed. If a blood fae or a lich strolled up and asked for some soup, I'd gladly serve them, but I'd stay in here where their magic would be kept back."
"Weakened. Not fully pushed back." He tilted his head. "That certainly wouldn't do much to nullify the offense of being treated so differently either. But you realize what is so insidious with so many like that is that their voices are often just enough. All they have to do is say the right words. In some cases, all it takes is you saying the right words. You know what happens if you tell a blood fae you love them, don't you?"
She stiffened, prickles of unease passing through her. "I do."
"No matter what they say, there are no limits on that wish. You say the words—and then—one wish—whatever they want. No matter what. Even your own life or the life of someone you love. And if you refuse to fulfill it, you bleed. From your mouth. From your eyes. More and more until you either fulfill it or you die. How many do you think have been tricked in such a manner and lost far too much in exchange?"
"Too many." She put the lids back on the pots. "But you needn't worry about me. I don't make deals or bargains with fae."
"Yet you sell soup to them."
"Those are trades, simple exchanges of goods. Believe me, I don't have to be convinced how dangerous an open-ended or ambiguous bargain can be."
"Hm." He frowned as he studied her. "You've been on the wrong side of a bargain before, haven't you?"
The lies about her past rose in her mouth, but she stopped. Too dangerous. Too bitter to speak again here. Both lies and the truth were unwanted.
"Just leave it at I don't do bargains, and I am done with this conversation."
"Very well. I apologize once more for any discomfort or inconvenience I have caused, but if you—"
She held up her finger. "No. No more." She gestured to the doorway. "Have a good day, sir."
"You as well." He tipped his hat, then strode away, the pheasant feather bobbing with the movement.
She wanted to slam the door behind him, but she pulled the lid off the vegetable soup and began stirring again, scraping the wooden spoon along the bottom to ensure nothing burned. Her fingers tightened around the handle. Why must everything remind her of that cursed bargain? She'd been a fool to take it! She knew that.
And as for love…she shook her head. Even if blood fae weren't bound by such terrifying magical requirements, people like her weren't meant to have families again. And she could never risk trusting someone with her heart like that, especially not if it would give them total control over her for even a few moments. Really, that was utterly unfair given that they could already manipulate your blood and body like a marionette if you weren't properly protected.
Tonight, she planned to make potato soup. She carried on with her regular tasks of clean up and let Buttons out as soon as she could. The little dog greeted her with great enthusiasm. Her heart remained heavy, though. She wasn't the sort who fell in love, but her conscience tweaked at the thought of making Ryul continue to stand out there so uncomfortably. Not that she could let him in. But he had not done anything to threaten her or show any signs of doing harm, really. In fact, he'd been quite patient with her trying to figure out what soups would work.
A thought presented itself, small but hopefully kind. She pulled one of the shelves out of the cupboard and then clamped it to the outside of the windowsill. If he intended to spend another night chatting with her while the soup cooked, this would make it a little more comfortable without putting her in danger.
PLANKS AND MYTHS
Everything else went well. She swept up, diced potatoes, filled the water vessels, and made her preparations for the night. She should have been exhausted.
But she wasn't. A bit of excitement welled within her. Despite Traelan’s words, she didn’t fear Ryul’s arrival. If anything, she felt some measure of protectiveness toward him. She didn’t fully trust him. But you didn’t need trust to want to protect someone or be kind to them, right?
As the sun went down, she had the potato soup cooking away. It was a little richer than what she usually made, using up the last of her butter and all of the remaining milk. Not that it mattered. She’d already marked down the extra ingredients she would need. Tomorrow morning, Darri would pick up her list and the coin when he brought the ice, and then he would fetch the necessary items from the city. He might raise an eyebrow at some of the added items. Theywererather unusual, but as she was paying for them, it wouldn’t make any difference. She never splurged on herself, so she did have enough to allow for a few odd items.
Ryul arrived shortly after dark as usual. “It smells good,” he offered from outside the window.
“Always good to hear.” She set the cast iron skillet on one of the burners. “It’s potato soup tonight. I’m going to fry up some bacon to put on the top.”
“Sounds good—” He stopped, tilting his head as he noticed the makeshift plank ledge. “What’s this?”
“Hmmm? Nothing.” She dusted her hands off. “Just thought it would be better there.”
“I can…can I lean on it?”
