An Ignoble Invitation- the Aelven Dominion

by Dani Morrison

  Miri Third-Born was many things, but libertine was likely not one of those things. The furious deep red flush that crossed the pretty bridge of her nose when sex was even mentioned was a testament to that. He would need to draw her out, and framing the seduction as an obligation was not just a dishonor to her but himself.

  His mother would accuse him of being a rogue. Though she stated her concerns, Pyrin had approved of his choice and kind words from Pyrin Vinhar were not offered without merit.

  “She’s unflinchingly honest, which could prove disastrous in matters of diplomacy.” She began with a sigh, “But she’s observant and understands her position. It isn’t a desirable one.”

  As he took a seat at his desk, his mother’s words reminded him that the sentiment towards humans was rapidly softening in the face of the latest rounds of rebellion. What could anyone expect? The initial establishment of the Dominion occurred many generations past, and while the human weakness for power and wealth made them easy to bring to a heel initially, especially in the face of powerful Aelven armies, no one could deny their capability as a species.

  The binding magic used on those capable of wielding aether. Their quick-witted bards and innovative inventors. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for a lower-ranking Aelven family to intermarry with a high ranking human one if the political and economic alliance could be beneficial and with more human strongholds successfully building their own wealth and power, it would only be a matter of time before more of them supported open rebellion.

  It was a dangerous prospect. Far too much relied on the relative peace they all lived under, and if ceding a bit more coin, and financially propping up a few proclamations, could allow such peaceful times to continue, he would happily do so.

  He watched a servant tend to the fire before turning his attention to the glowing hot embers being slid to and fro. Sparks jumped as the iron prod stirred them, and Aisalan found it almost poetic when a fresh sliver of wood caught flame and was steadily consumed.

  The simmering tensions between humans and the Aelven could as easily reach a similar climax.

  What happened at the Otravian stronghold over the next few days could have a ripple effect across the dominion.

  The upper courts saw the small battles and occasional supply line attacks as nothing more than petty nuisances, but the discontent was growing. It was what he saw in Miri's eyes as they spoke in The Hidden.

  Aisalan leaned back in his seat, his eyes trained on the dancing fire in the hearth. Worrying too much would lead him nowhere and sap the wits he desperately needed to hold onto if he was hoping to achieve the best possible outcome. He would have to put trust in the fates for the rest.

  Chapter Eight

  Miri

  She checked her face in the small handheld mirror for what seemed like the millionth time before letting out an undignified huff and returning it to her leather pouch. The eighth toll could not be far off though she hadn’t gotten much sleep anyway.

  During the previous night, after filling Kyra in on every detail of her outing with Lady Vinhar and Lyrei, the night hours were wiled away discussing the kind of potions and enchantments they would offer in their shop. It was a welcome distraction and a reminder of what their sacrifices were worth. Miri was buoyed by Kyra’s insistence that their creations would take the human realm by storm and her friend’s optimism provided a boost of needed strength as she sat alone in the morning’s silence.

  Her stomach grumbled despite the attempt to quiet it with a few chunks of bread and cheese.

  “Be polite, be charming, be clever.” She murmured under her breath. Miri considered herself a capable woman. She may not have been the best alchemist in Myrenden but no one could deny her talent and skill. With that in mind, she could never consider herself charming nor, necessarily, polite. But she would be all of that and more to secure this letter of introduction.

  A soft knock interrupted her train of thought, and she took a few deep breaths before walking to the door to open it. Lyrei’s face greeted her, placid and calm. “Are you ready?”

  Miri nodded, forcing herself not to look over her shoulder in the direction of her and Kyra’s shared sleeping quarters. She counted her breaths as she locked the door behind her and released a particularly deep one when she saw the carriage she would be riding in.

  The last clear memory she had of seeing anything like it was watching a procession as a young girl. A feeling of dread swept over her as her hand was taken to aid her in stepping in, and before she knew it, she was seated across from him. Aisalan Vinhar. Looking for all like the villainous Aelven of any bedtime story. She jumped when the carriage door slammed shut.

  “Thank you for joining me,” Aisalan said. Though his tone was even and measured, his eyes widened momentarily as though he could hardly believe she was there.

  “As we agreed, Lord Vinhar.” Miri replied, her eyes searching his for a moment before moving on to their surroundings. The carriage was a small space and there wasn’t much to distract her from the awkwardness of the encounter. A string of tension she couldn’t explain was already pulled tight and they had only just begun their journey.

  “Aisalan.” He replied.

  Miri blinked. “I’m sorry?”

  “A lover would never refer to me as Lord Vinhar.”

  Miri swallowed. She was not his lover.

  “I think you will enjoy the Otravian stronghold.” He continued, “It is one of the largest human cities in the region.”

  Miri's eyes shot back to him, “I’m sure I’ll find it to be an enlightening experience.”

  There. Manners. Polite. She could channel her inner Kyra for a few moments, at least. Perfect calm and acceptance. Anything else would cede far too much power and she wouldn’t give him any buttons to push.

  Aisalan

  It was unnerving. If this was what he had to look forward to for the rest of the trip, there wasn’t going to be much to look forward to at all. Her response was a little too measured with none of the usually tempered sharpness.

  If their goal was to be convincing, this was hardly going to work. She had gone from studying the shade on the door to counting each speck of dirt on the carriage floor.

  “Until we arrive, there is little need to stand on ceremony.” He finally said, hoping to cut through her attempt at professional indifference. Her mouth opened for a split second before closing again.

  Aisalan closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the cushion. Her next words were so quiet he might not have had heard them were it not for the oppressive silence of the carriage, “You’ve brought my letter with you?”

  “Of course.” He replied, “Drawn up by one of the finest scribes in the region.”

  Miri huffed and shook her head, “You’re such an insufferable show-off.”

  There she was, just below the surface.

  “Only because it unsettles you,” Aisalan replied, opening his eyes and allowing a small smile to tug at the corner of his lips.

  “Is that why you asked me to do this?” Miri asked. “You take some joy in making people uncomfortable?”

  Aisalan shook his head slightly and lowered his gaze to hers, “Would it be hard to believe I specifically wanted your company?”

  Her laughter was as unexpected as it was musical. Far removed from the well-practiced titters heard around the courts, it was lively, warm, and, most importantly, genuine.

  “Besides,” he continued, keeping his voice at a low purr, “It has been said that I can be quite nice for an Aelv.”

  Miri's eyes widened and a hand flew to her mouth, “By the gods, you heard that.”

  Aisalan chuckled, “I’ve heard far worse about myself. I assure you.”

  Something more than just his mother’s etiquette lessons was troubling her. Was she aware of some danger he wasn’t? What were the chances a rebel managed to get to her in the short time between their striking the bargain and now? “Lady Vinhar spoke very highly of you.”

  Miri snorte
d, “Did she? I think I almost ripped that dress maker’s head off.”

  Those weren’t the exact words his mother used, but she had expressed a similar sentiment. Though Pyrin found it more humorous than anything. Watching those in need of correction receive their comeuppance was a guilty pleasure of hers, being a habit she frequently partook in herself. Spitting image indeed. “Lim does not spend much time around humans; I’m afraid. I offer apologies on his behalf.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and that delicious heat returned to them, “Why are you behaving like this?”

  “Like what?” The conversation may have been stilted but Aisalan thought it was going well considering the circumstances. It was enough to hear her voice.

  “Like a couple of days ago, you didn’t tell me I had to sleep with you to get a trade permit,” Miri said with exasperation.

  “I never said you had to sleep with me. You were free to turn down my offer.” Aisalan replied though he hadn’t expected her to speak of their arrangement in such crude terms.

  Miri crossed her arms and glared, her eyes cutting him to the bone, “Some choice. Spread my legs or grow old in the back of The Magistra.”

  “One sounds infinitely more enjoyable.”

  “Yes, and only one of those involves doing something I want to do.” She said with finality. Her words should not have stung him, but they invariably did.

  “So, you have said,” Aisalan replied. She was already agitated, sparks jumping in the amber depths of her eyes, her mouth set into a thin line. “Were I to remove that stipulation, would you find our trip more agreeable?”

  He was as surprised as she was once the words left his mouth and the silence that followed highlighted the unexpectedness of the concession. He allowed his gaze to drop to the full pout of her lips. If he was going to taste of them, it would be all the sweeter now.

  “I...wait...yes?” Her stammered reply brought his eyes back to hers.“Absolutely, yes. I won’t be expected to sleep with you?”

  “No. I will not force you to lie with me though I must admit,” Aisalan raised an eyebrow, “You’ve been among the first so actively against the idea.”

  “What do you want in return?” Miri asked. Equal exchange. An alchemist would never think to obtain a boon without a sacrifice.

  He stretched to relieve the tension in his muscles before sliding over to sit directly across from her. She immediately straightened and her eyes narrowed when his legs settled against hers. “I’m an Aelv of my word.” He replied, his voice a relaxed drawl. He peered out of the carriage window before turning to her, “But I reserve the right of pursuit.”

  She momentarily frowned before her face broke into beatific a smile followed by laughter. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Those are the new terms.”

  His desire for her had already settled into his blood. He had distinctly chosen her with the belief that doing so would prevent any emotional attachment, a quick and clean mutually beneficial engagement that would dissolve as quickly as salt in water once the negotiations were complete. But, something lingered in the air between them. A delicious ripe promise on the edge of being named.

  Aisalan did not know what it was but he was determined to seize it.

  Miri

  She wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this seemed a little too good to be true. The one aspect of their arrangement she dreaded most of all would be a non-issue, but she would still be at the mercy of Aisalan’s advances.

  She allowed her eyes to travel over him. How difficult could resisting him be?

  “Agreed.” She crossed her arms and stuck her chin in the air, “Separate beds as well?”

  Aisalan laughed, “I am afraid I cannot do much about that dhaoiri. Accommodations have already been set.”

  Miri frowned, “What did you call me?”

  “I am not insulting you. There is little need to be so wary.”

  She watched his legs shift and spread and attempted to ignore the subtle pressure of his body so close to hers. If he were intent on seducing her, she wasn’t going to make it easy for him by paying attention to every move he made. She pretended not to notice the way he studied her and instead turned her attention to the rolling fields outside the carriage window.

  “How long is the journey?” She quietly asked.

  Aisalan yawned, “Eight arcs give or take. The horses are well-fed, and we should only need to stop once.”

  “You’re not worried about brigands or beasts?” Miri asked. Guard or no guard, a major road was a beacon for mayhem in the wilds. They were practically sitting ducks.

  “We are traveling with a full retinue.” Aisalan replied, his tone implying there was little worry to be had. Miri may not have known the lands they traveled through personally but she was a child of the wilds and knew they were capable of delivering nasty surprises. If he wanted to underestimate the potential dangers surrounding them, fine.

  She had a feeling this would not be the last time.

  Miri

  Miri stifled a moan of displeasure. More than two arcs must have passed and they were spent in near silence, save the rustling of parchment and Aisalan’s occasional grumbles. She could have kicked herself for not bringing one of Duriah’s texts with her.

  “How many formulas do you know?” Aisalan asked and her mind had to catch up with such a random, yet precise, question.

  “75 to 100.” She replied, before shaking her head. “Maybe more. But most, only in theory.”

  “However, you could look at a list and theoretically determine what kind of work an alchemist is doing?”

  Miri chewed on her lower lip, “It would only be a rough guess. Multiple formulas can be made with the same ingredients but in different concentrations.” The line of questioning was more bizarre than their entire arrangement until he held out a long sheet of parchment to her.

  Tabulations. Neat rows of weights, substances, and costs. It looked similar to the orders she frequently made for Duriah but the amounts surpassed anything she would ever expect to see at The Magistra and many of the ingredients were far more exotic.

  The parchment was crumpled and dirty, but from what she could make out the list’s owner had no interest in crafting healing potions. Yvrit’s blood, a substance so poisonous transporting it from the Aelven to human realm was strictly prohibited. Lorenthrum Oculi, a small berry that became a potent acid when distilled. Aethryl crystals in expensive quantities that would make an entire Alchemy Guild blush.

  “Whoever this belongs to must be very busy.” She said softly, her eyes roving down the list of ingredients. “And very dangerous.”

  “It’s a pilfered supply request provided by one of our informants.”

  “You have agents among the rebels?” Miri asked. She shouldn’t have been surprised but the knowledge that the rebellion was already compromised from within was a bitter pill to swallow.

  “Of course.” Aisalan replied, never raising his eyes from the documents in his lap. “We would like to prevent confrontation if at all possible and sabotaging their supply lines is the easiest way to do so.”

  “Hence the list.” Miri said. The once light parchment seemed heavier with the implications of what it represented. She dropped it on the seat across from her.

  “The list was a happy accident. We believe the signature is from someone with connections to the Otravian household, however they have been uncooperative in confirming.”

  Miri scoffed, “Of course they would be. What do they have to gain from owning up to this?”

  “Their lives.”

  A chill crept over her. It was a statement so simple and matter of fact, she didn’t for a moment doubt the threat hidden behind the offer of amnesty.

  “Why did you show me that?” For all that she knew, such a document could be considered evidence of a crime. The highest of crimes. Treason. Myrenden had court alchemists at its disposal to offer their council. Anything she told him had surely already been said before.

&nbs
p; When Aisalan’s eyes met hers, they were filled with a sincerity she did not expect. “For an honest opinion that isn’t fueled by a desire to pad your own coffers.” He began, “And because, you will be among the few I can trust.”

  It was a bold sentiment and one Miri couldn’t afford to return. She didn’t know the rules of this game but their crossed paths shared similarly high stakes and that was the only thing binding them together. She needed to remember that.

  Another silence descended between them after Aisalan’s confession and an uncomfortable stiffness crept over her body. “How soon is the first stop?”

  He chuckled, “Is your rear so delicate?”

  Miri glared and shifted in her seat, “I think I liked you better when you had on the gentleman act.”

  “You did not.”

  Fair point.

  “I would give anything to stretch my legs.” She said, giving the action a valiant effort in the confined space of the carriage and failing miserably.

  “Our rest stop should be soon. After which, we will be over-nighting with the Sisters of Elias’ Bounty to prepare for the grand procession in the morning.”

  In an instant, Miri was transported back to her childhood, and the awe she felt at seeing the grand carriages pass by but it was the last part of their itinerary that caught her off guard. “The Sisters of Elias’ Bounty? We’re staying with temple prostitutes?”

  Aisalan raised his head to meet her gaze, “The Sisters are some of the most welcoming inn-keepers in the region.”

  Miri rolled her eyes, “I bet they are.”

  “And very pious.”

  “I’m absolutely sure we’re going there because you admire their religious devotion,” she replied with a snort.

  “I had hoped they might bless our union,” Aisalan replied, his eyes twinkling. Miri got the distinct sense he enjoyed these little spats between them.