Page 28 of A Fae in Finance
“The Princeling. He’s… in charge.”
“I’m going to march over there right now and give that man a piece of my mind!” my mother said, initiating the second half of the hard part.
“Mom, it’s fine. I’m talking to him.”
“Put him on the phone! I have something to say!”
I took my ring off and twirled it between my fingers, staring at the glints of light refracting off its surface. “Mom, it’s fine. Please.”
“He can’tkeep you,” she snapped. And then—“How did this even happen?”
Oh lord. Oh heavens and earth. Oh sweet parboiled mayonnaise-smothered corn.
“Um… They tricked me.”
I scrunched my eyes shut against her next tirade. Unfortunately, sound doesn’t enter your brain through the eyeballs.
Eventually, she ended on her fourth “Make him let you go!”
With a sigh, I slid all the way onto the floor, staring up at the faerie flittering by the ceiling.
“Even if he could let me go, which he can’t, faeries don’t work like that, Mom.”
“Our next-door neighbor Mrs. Jackson is a vampire, andshewould let you go.”
The ceiling had lovely striations in it, veins of gray and brown rock and mineral.
“Okay, I’m not sure why you think Mrs. Jackson would kidnap me in the first place, but Imeant—”
“Miriam!” she scolded. “Is now really the time to be sassy?” Which, fair enough.
“Look, Mom, all I mean is that faeries have a strong sense of fairness. If the Princeling were in my debt, then maybe it would be different.”
“Then put him in your debt,” she said. She sounded gentler now that we’d moved on to the advisory portion of our call.
“How am I going to put a faerie prince in my debt?” I groaned, closing my eyes. Doctor Kitten mewled, so I opened my eyes again.
“You could… save his life from an assassination attempt?” she suggested, sounding hopeful.
I remembered the Princeling earlier that morning, moving so quickly I couldn’t track him with my eye.
“That’s definitely an option,” I said brightly.
“Do you have better ideas?” she snapped. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“He wants me to teach a class about humans,” I said. “Maybe he’ll bargain?”
I didn’t feel particularly hopeful about the idea, but my mom latched onto it with the vigor of a leech leaping from a beaver dam onto a human ankle.
“Yes, bargain with that!” she said. “He wanted it enough to kidnap you, right? It must be important to him.”
Doctor Kitten and I stared at each other.
“I guess so,” I said, still so baffled I couldn’t feel angry.
“Then bargain with that,” she said, in the voice she used when she considered a matter settled.
“That’s a good point, Mom, I’ll do that now.”
