Page 10 of The Pactbound Angel (The Soul Mirror Duet #1)

I answered her immediately, “Then they don’t like money.

” Stepping through the door, we were assaulted by the stomach-churning smell of roasting meat, the yeasty scent of ale, and the din of a roaring crowd all talking over themselves.

Though the inn’s common room was loud, only half of the tables were taken.

Our presence did not seem to arouse any suspicion as we maneuvered to the bar.

“Good evening, sir. We’d all like rooms if you have them available.”

The barkeep, a fey with pointed ears and mottled brown and gray hair, looked all of us over with yellow eyes. I saw the same thick hair on his bare forearms, leading to sharp claws at the end of his fingers that tapped on the bartop. Lupa fey. “Aye, got rooms for you. How many do you need?”

“Yes, thank you. Four.”

The barkeep’s yellow eyes lit up as someone behind me hissed a grimace, and I inwardly cursed my mistake.

I said thank you to a fey.

The barkeep eyed me . “Let’s just say… your room price is doubled and call it even, aye?”

It was a gracious offer. I’ll have to tamp that down. And fast.

I grudgingly nodded in agreement.

Raewyn squeezed to my side and raised a hand to interrupt. “I can sing and tell stories for my payment.”

The barkeep eyed Raewyn up and down. “Are they good stories and songs? I ain’t got time for ‘once upon a time, there was a princess, and she lived happily ever after’.”

“No, no, they’re good stories. And I have a good voice for singing.”

“She does. She’s an excellent singer.” When we were younger, Raewyn could belt out songs better than I. She sang the songs I wrote, and she never disappointed.

He sighed. “Sure, but only because it’s a slow night. Might be you bring in some patrons.” He pointed a claw at a nearby table, and we took our seats. A waitress came over, a broad elven woman with a smile and a tray.

“What can I get you all?”

“Wine,” Ramiren and I said simultaneously. Ramiren inclined his head to me with a chuckle.

“You appreciate wine, Master Ramiren? I am not surprised.”

His chuckle morphed into a grin. “Indeed, good wine is to be savored.” He leaned in, as though sharing a secret, “Poor wine is to be chugged.”

The waitress winked at Ramiren.

Catching her attention to order was more difficult than it should’ve been.

“Red wine, please. Tawny port, if you have it.” The waitress’s eyes flickered to me, then back to Ramiren, who asked for the same.

Her eyes ran him up and down in a slow perusal, and I quickly became irritated at her disrespect.

Raewyn ordered the same wine as well. Georgina rolled her eyes, muttering, “Fussy wine drinkers,” and ordered ale. M.A.L.C.O.L.M. tried to order ale too, but Georgina shook her head, saying something about circuitry. The waitress departed to fulfill the requests.

I finally replied to Ramiren, “Chugged? Or spilled?”

Ramiren lifted a hand to indicate my point. “Or spilled, true. But even poor wine is useful.”

“Useful? How?” My back settled into the chair. “Surely, you don’t mean to get drunk.”

Ramiren let out a barking laugh as he tongued a sharp-looking canine. “I am caught, Lady Nathalia. ”

Unlike when we first met, his laugh excited me, for some reason. Charmed, I couldn’t blame the waitress for wanting to look at him instead of me.

Raewyn clearing her throat made me realize I was staring. I jolted out of my daze. “Hm?” My sister raised an eyebrow at me with a smug smile plastered on her face, causing me to shift uncomfortably in my chair.

Raewyn crossed her arms as she leaned back. “Shall we discuss how we’re going to get our stuff back? Particulars? Battle plans? Perhaps, a timely hag-flavored bonfire?”

Flavored? “Slowly but surely,” I replied. “We go to these mischief hags one after the other and take them back. Violently, if necessary, yes. Whole beaches of sand began with a single grain. It’ll take time, yes, but eventually we will be successful. Through perseverance, we shall prevail.”

Raewyn exhaled upwards, puffing the red fringe on her forehead. “What about you, Ramiren? What do you think we should do?”

Ramiren considered before speaking. “I think Lady Nathalia has a point, but perhaps it doesn’t have to be so brutal. These mischief hags are dangerous creatures. They will be tough foes to beat.”

Raewyn tittered. “Was the bonfire idea too much?”

Ramiren cleared his throat. “What I mean is, maybe these hags can be bartered with. They are fey, and fey love a good deal. It just so happens you have an expert in deals with you.”

“I thought you didn’t like making deals with fey, Master Ramiren?”

Ramiren replied with a drawn-out sigh, “I don’t, but I’d rather oversee a deal than witness a death I can do nothing about. No one enjoys helplessness.”

I acknowledged his statement with an emphatic hum. “Certainly, but I’m not sure I feel comfortable making deals with hags, evil creatures that they are. We would leave them to do this to other children or…” I said, looking at Georgina. “...ad ults.”

He conceded my point with a shrug. “Then, the sword will do. But until then, I urge you to give me a chance. We put ourselves at risk as well, starting a fight we might not be able to finish.”

Raewyn murmured, “Oh, hello, lovely lady…”

Following her line of sight to a beautiful elven woman sitting with a group of armed fellows, the corners of my mouth twitched when Raewyn’s chair scraped the floor as she stood and headed towards the woman with a bright smile on her face.

When I turned back around, Ramiren’s gaze was trained on me, as though he was studying a curious specimen.

“What? Do I have dirt on me?” I peered down at myself, scrutinizing my clothing and armor.

He hummed before answering. “No. You don’t seem much bothered by your sister’s proclivities.”

My shrug seemed to make him even more interested.

“No, I am not. My sister has preferred the company of women since we were young, barely sixteen years old. It’s not as though her preferences are something that can be changed, any more than my preferences for men.

They just are. As long as she is happy, I am happy. ”

Ramiren nodded, taking in my words, and brightened when he saw the waitress approaching to place wine glasses and an ale mug on the table.

“That’s good of you,” he said, pulling out a coin pouch.

He slid a gold coin towards the waitress, who took it with her fingers brushing his, and it disappeared into her pocket.

He didn’t seem to notice the touch. Or, at least, he did not acknowledge it.

She grinned at him. “Anything else, love?”

She’s not getting either tip she’s hoping for. Refusing to acknowledge where that thought came from, I asked the waitress, “Where is a good place to buy rations and other incidentals for the road?”

She finally realized I existed and pointed behind her. “Oh, down the street, there’s a grocer. They should have what you need. Mirin’s Goods and Grocery.”

She’s elven. I could thank her.

Part of me didn’t want to, but manners won out.

“Thank you. Is anyone else hungry?” When no one said yes, I answered her question to Ramiren. “No, nothing else.” She shrugged and departed. “Why is that good of me, Master Ramiren?”

Ramiren paused, as though thinking of his response. He ran a finger down the seam of the wooden table absently. “There are many who do not feel it is right.”

The wine swirled in my glass. It smelled like chocolate.

Tawny port was sweeter than my usual, but I was in the mood for sweetness.

Plus, good wine was good wine. “It hurts none. I do not share her attractions, but she is not me. People who think it is not right are likely incapable of either empathizing or believing someone is able to like something they don’t. ”

Putting the wine glass to my lips to appreciate a sip, the tawny port was indeed chocolatey.

Fey-made wine? “Which I don’t feel is right.

So, see? Everyone becomes disappointed when people can’t just leave others alone.

” My first real smile of the evening creased my face, feeling giddy for some reason.

Is it the wine? Is fey wine dangerous?

I eyed my wine with suspicion.

He returned the smile. “Hear hear.” He raised his wine to mine, and the glasses clinked. “Cheers to you, Lady Nathalia. Rapidly becoming the best of us.”

A snort burst out of me, but I drank to the toast with a much smaller sip.

Georgina snickered into her ale mug, overhearing our conversation, and muttered under her breath, “The best of us, indeed.”

I’ll let that slide.

The gnome took a long gulp of her ale and sat the mug down with a loud thunk. “So, Ramiren. You make deals, eh?”

Ramiren turned his smile to the diminutive woman. “I do, Mistress Georgina. Pacts, specifically. I have for some time now.”

“And are you good at it?” She raised her eyebrow.

It is rare when men will admit they’re not superb at what they do.

To my surprise, instead of answering immediately, Ramiren thought for a few seconds before replying, “I like to think so, yes. I’ve made many and have never had one broken.”

Georgina nodded while he spoke. “I’ve never met a broodling who wasn’t good at what he did.” She raised her tankard to him in salute, which Ramiren reciprocated with his own glass.

My attention went back to Raewyn, who was now sitting in the elven woman’s lap. At least her evening is going well.

But isn’t mine going well, too? I suppose we’ll see.

“Raewyn! Give us a song!” I yelled over my shoulder, and the patrons all quieted as Raewyn hopped up with a grin and giggle.

She placed a peck of a kiss on the elven woman’s cheek and spun to address the common room’s inhabitants, “Alright, fey and friend, alike! This one is called The Dryad’s Run .”