Page 30 of A Fae in Finance
Hi, it’s Miri here, thanks for taking the time to chat. Sorry about the weird lighting, my night-light is alive and he’s really acting up. Anyway, I am so excited about your human job in the human world, where I totally live and pay for food and housing—
“The room is lovely, my lord,” I tried again. His eyes were intent on my face. “But would I not serve you better from my office?” I clenched my hands together in my lap. I felt so cold I was shaking. “I cannot work as well with my team from your realm.”
“You serve me best where I have placed you,” the Princeling replied. He sat back and put one hand on his knee.
“And how do I serve you here?”
“With a smile, I hope.” He still didn’t look away. I tried to meet his gaze, but I couldn’t. Had he just told me tosmile? I would rip hisfaceoff—
“My liege—” I started, but he cut me off.
“Was Jeff fair to you this morning?”
Startled, I jerked my hand up to my face, sending my tray of untouched food flying. The salad bowl clattered across the table and landed on his chest.
Neither he nor the Gray Knight moved. The Crone sat down on his right and stared at me, too.
“Oh—fuck—I mean, oh—shoot—I am so sorry—” I scrambled out of my seat and started around the table toward him, but he waved a hand and the food disappeared, tray and all. There were no stains on his green shirt.
“Think of it no more.” It might have been a command. “But answer me, if it please you.” He waved an imperious hand, and I slumped down onto the stool.
It does not please me, I thought. “Jeff was… Jeff.” Frustration buzzed inside me. I didn’t owe Jeff anything—but I wouldn’t criticize him and risk the success of the faeries’ company.
Still the Princeling’s eyes never left me. I felt them, even though I stared down at the table. I tried to trace a vein in the wood with my finger and lost track of it.
“I know what you said to Sahir,” the Princeling said.
“What I said to Sahir?” I repeated. He glanced at the Gray Knight and jerked his chin. She stood up and went toward the food line. “I’m sorry, my lord, I don’t know what I said to Sahir.”
The Crone rolled her eyes—the action looked strange in her wrinkled face. Today she wore a blue cloak, the hood over her brow. Her eyes, glittering black, stared out from the folds of the fabric. I wondered if cloaks were comfortable.
To my surprise, she spoke. “Everyone offers gifts and curses,” she said, in a terrifying mimicry of my voice. I clapped my hand to my own mouth, shocked to find it shut. The Crone mimed something, her left hand coming up to her neck and then flicking backward, nails brushing her hood.Did she just pretend to flip her hair?“No point worrying which is which until the time comes.”
“Did Sahir relay this to you?” I asked aloud.
Another eye roll from the Crone.
“I am a Prince of Faerie, lady,” the Princeling said, his voice soft. “My methods are my own, and my knowledge mine until I share it. Ask no more impertinent questions.”
So he’d just confirmed they were watching me, and I should assume they heard everything I said.
I wanted to hunch my shoulders and give up, but the thought of my mom stalking into Faerie to demand retribution spurred me on. “I have considered your… offer, my lord,” I said, choosing my words carefully.
“Indeed,” he said. He sounded casual, but he flicked his wrist and a bramble of green sparks burst into being around our table, shielding us from the others in the room. No one screamed at the sight of magical bushes exploding into existence, so it must have been fairly normal for the Court.
“I will teach your people of my people, in exchange for your assistance in freeing me from this realm.” My eyes burned. I stared at the green magic behind him, willing the tears not to fall.
“You know that you cannot leave,” he said, his words as slow as mine. I inhaled. Exhaled. “Or, rather,” he corrected, “you cannot leave and live.”
Finally, I found the courage to meet his gaze. “My lord, within the bounds of faerie magic there must exist some spell to aid me. I ask only your resources in looking for an answer.”
We looked at each other. “Oh, and a vow not to stop me if I do find a way home,” I added. “I seek no promise from you regarding the outcome.”
We sat. No one spoke. The Gray Knight forced her way through the magic green brambles, carrying a tray of food, which she dropped on the table. She had a few green leaves dissipating in her hair, and a tiny green bur on one shoulder. She looked irritated.
“Eat,” she said, rejoining the Princeling and the Crone across from me.
For a moment I wasn’t sure if she spoke to me or to the Princeling, but he pushed the tray toward me.
