Chương 78: Haggling Squirt

Cirn caught up immediately, following Squirt with a loyal but confused glint in her eyes. Squirt scowled at the weird loyalty but otherwise just moved to a clear space in the village and pulled out her practice short sword. Cirn stared at it. Squirt, agitated already, snapped, "What?"

"You… would still see me as a warrior?" Squirt lowered the blade as a few things snapped into place in her mind. The veil. The feminine rage. The woeful angle of her brows. This was stupid and so was Cirn. With a huff, Squirt said, "I don't give a flying fuck who blessed you. I care that I do my practice so I can try not to die. Are you in or do I need to go track down someone else?" Deep emotion welled up in Cirn's visible eyes.

"Than—""Don't you fucking dare," snapped Squirt, interrupting the attempt at a gratitude boon. Cirn huffed, nodded, and wiped her eyes before she pulled out her own sword. Squirt growled, annoyed that the woman was making way too big of a deal out of their usual daily practice routine. She was blessed by Beauty—so what? At least she wasn't insufferable about it like the Sia-bitch, and clearly, she tried to hide that blessing as much as possible.

Something Squirt respected, in all honesty, now that she had a moment to think about it. Much to Squirt's relief, they didn't speak again. Cirn didn't bring up her issues with Jul or make more comments, just defended while Squirt threw herself at the woman with her blade. To her annoyance, not only did the woman not look winded, but she didn't even sweat. Squirt, meanwhile, was dying, having had to stop for water and remove her shirt as the summer sun quickly burned away the night's chill.

More annoyingly, they gained an audience. The audience was mixed—soldiers, hunters, and villagers—and try as she might to ignore them, she could hear them placing bets and reacting with far too much empathy to her every failed strike.

"Fuck, never seen a greenling move that fast—""Is it true she blasted the quake wyrm—""—saw her meself, riding the back of that there hound like the Hunt incarnate—""—how she can still be moving after that last parry?"

"—ten earth pieces that she gives up in the next ten—""Oh, Lord Anvanil, I think you dropped this—""O-oh, uh, yeah, I um… yep. That's, yep. Mine."

"So, uh… about last night—" The surprise of realizing that Anvanil was watching, a lord, and had slept with the aptly named Hunter—the quick-to-smile orc hunter from Norland—distracted her enough that Cirn's blade would have sliced her in half had the ice fata not warded it. Squirt sprang back up quickly, but it was clear her ribs were bruised at the very least. With her shirt off, there was no way to hide it, and only a few minutes later Cirn called an end to the training. Damnit.

Her eyes flickered over to the deeply blushing Anvanil as he spoke privately with Hunter. Since she couldn't hear anything Hunter was saying, she had to assume Anvanil had put up a silence spell. Great. Now there were going to be several fey in her party beset by romance issues. See, this was why her hand worked just fucking fine—"We should return," came the stilted tone of Cirn just as Squirt spotted Jul hovering around the edge of the crowd.

Because Squirt was a petty bitch, she considered purposely slowing them down just to make her face Jul. But it had indeed been almost an hour, and she wanted to wash off the sweat from her body.

"Let's stop by the well first." They made their way through the crowd that was now breaking up and headed towards the command tent, veering a few streets over to stop by one of the community wells. Cirn watched with some confusion as Squirt used the large walking wheel to draw up the bucket. Once she had pulled up a full bucket, Squirt stripped and dumped the water over herself. Cirn made a choked noise that drew Squirt's attention. Her eyes were wide on Squirt as she said, "You… just… like that?"

Dryly, Squirt answered, "Yes, my lady, this is how the poorer, weaker fey bathe." One of the village fey washing clothes in the courtyard of the well snickered. The blush on Cirn's face was absolute. Even with the veil covering most of her face, the area around her eyes still flushed bright enough for Squirt to see it.

Squirt ignored her while she lowered and raised another bucket by walking on the wheel, this time ladling the water more carefully as she scrubbed with a rag and some soap, even bending over to make sure her hair was done. Cirn, meanwhile, averted her eyes and all around seemed awkward for no discernible reason other than Squirt's nakedness. The older fey woman washing clothing said, "Ha! Capital prisshat. There's a reason laundress is one of the best positions in the village."

Squirt's eyebrow twitched and she glared at the unabashed older woman.

"Like the show?"

"Not my usual, but points for exoticness." Squirt snorted, grinning.

"You're welcome, perv." She cackled, clearly unashamed. Cirn, meanwhile, looked mortified as she said, "Don't you—aren't you—shy?" Squirt rolled her eyes as she finished the scrub down, rinsing off the sweaty clothes and squeezing the bulk of the water out of them.

"No."

"… why reject Qzi?" She muttered, "I haven't," before sifting through her things for her pouch. Pulling out a small dryer, she fed it feystones and slowly ironed over the clothes to get them mostly dry. Glancing over, she sighed, dropping her head when it was clear the lady was rather desperate for an answer to what she was actually asking. Focusing on her movements and on evenly drying the pieces, she considered her response before finally saying, "Trusting once is simple enough. It's forever I don't trust."

The laundress glanced over, her eyes keen on Squirt's dryer.

"What's that, some sort of new device in the Capital?" Squirt snorted.

"No."

"Any chance you're willing to part with it?" Squirt considered the woman. Considered the items in her bag.

"Got iron and rice?"

"That I do."

"I'll take iron scraps and rice in trade."

"Five-ten?"

"Seven-fifteen."

"Ten-ten."

"Sold. Lemme finish my clothes here." Excellent, she'd been running low on rice and metal scraps for enchanting, and she only needed a pound of iron to replace the dryer. Everything else she had plenty of replacements for.

"How do you work this thing, then?" The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Squirt finished dressing while showing the old lady how to turn it on, aim it, and turn it off again. Cirn didn't interrupt, though Squirt was fairly certain she squeaked a few times for reasons Squirt couldn't figure out. Once she'd finished showing the mechanisms to the old woman, she took the item back and said, "You'll be here all day?" The woman cackled.

"You know it! With all these hot-blooded young lads and lasses coming through? There's no shortage for the eyes."

"I'll find you later then for the trade." The old woman stood, clearly stiff with her age as she waved Squirt off.

"Go on now, I'll see if one of the fancy soldiers will help an old woman out. It was at that moment that Jul finally caught up to them, clearly gunning to speak to a wide-eyed and panicked Cirn. Squirt gave him a shit-eating grin.

"Excellent. Jul, this woman is in need of assistance." Jul stopped, surprised at the request.

"I…" The old lady gave him a once over before giving Squirt a wink.

"Oh, you know how these bones start getting to you, I just need a nice strong fey to help me gather some goods to trade. Come on—give a dear an elbow if you please, that's nice." Smirking at the clear awkward helplessness on his face, she waved as he was rather forcefully dragged away by the enthusiastic laundress. Her expression flattened as she faced Cirn, silently warning her. Cirn tilted her head, a vulnerable look in her wide eyes, clearly failing to parse the silent warning.

Groaning, Squirt's hands fell to her hips as she trotted close enough to murmur quietly, "Figure out your shit or he's gonna be a mess in the Wylds." Cirn winced before retorting, "You've never answered Qzi."

"Jul hasn't been rejected a day in his life." Which made the contrary point pop into Squirt's mind, that Qzi was used to rejection enough for him to not be disheartened. She shook that thought away and sighed.

"If we need to, we can leave him behind—""No! No. I—I was just, surprised, yesterday, and—" Squirt really didn't want to know as she hissed out, "Then figure it out," before stomping off to the command tent. The guard at the entrance to the tent lifted the flap without Squirt having to say a goddamn word. She was getting oddly used to it. Inside were the three teens kneeling and looking rather sick to their stomachs.

The guy lifted his eyes to her as she trotted forward towards Lady Jezalin and Lord Prince Ranin, doing a double take on the scars visible on her body. She glowered at him, making him flinch and drop his eyes. Which, unfortunately, drew the attention of both girls, who were now also staring wide-eyed at her multitude of scars. Pakos didn't help by purposely staying on her other side so she couldn't disappear behind him. Jezalin smiled at Squirt.

"Lord Prince Ranin says you have a way to bait feybeasts?" Squirt scowled.

"I did, but I'm out of materials." Jezalin blinked.

"What materials do you need?"

"Powdered Vakús. There were deposits near my old village, but I've used more of it this year than I normally do." Jezalin frowned.

"Are there other ways to attract beasts?" Squirt raised a brow.

"Generally speaking, any powerful burst of magic will get their attention, but the trick is keeping a steady presence of it. They'll get the general direction from the first burst, they just will either lose interest or hunt closer prey if the presence ceases to exist. I do it by smashing feystones in a circle of powdered Vakús crystals. You can do it by just holding a ball of mana in your hand for long enough."

A common trick that most fey children could do in some form or another if they were training in magical manipulation.

"I see. Well, then. Chief Huntress Lobelia, I believe you can take it from here." The chief huntress bowed politely to the lady and lord prince before grunting at the teens and shuffling them out of the tent. Squirt watched them go with wary eyes, but as Lord Norland left with them, much of the tension left her shoulders. The only ones left were herself, the lord prince, Lady Jezalin, and Lady Cirn. Gods, she wanted her solitude back. Cirn stepped forward and blurted out, "She sold one of her inventions.

To a villager." Squirt's eyebrows twitched as she glowered at the tall woman. Lord Prince Ranin paled somewhat before he said, "Patent, we need the patent—" Squirt growled out, "The fuck you do. It's one transaction for a device that would be useless to you." The lord prince turned to Cirn.

"What was it?" She shook her head, "I-I don't know, some kind of dryer for clothes." Squirt muttered under her breath about no good titled fey butting into business that wasn't theirs, and the lord prince wilted, his confidence crumbling. The pathetic expression made Squirt finally bite out, "I don't need a patent for every little thing. Let me live my gods damned life without your titled fey bullshit." Both Cirn and the lord prince reluctantly backed down, wilting under Squirt's glare until he said, "As you wish…"

She scowled at the show of deference. Jezalin leaned forward, frowning slightly as she studied Squirt's body intently in the darkened space of the tent. Squirt grimaced as the light mage's eyes narrowed on the blooming bruise over her ribs and grunted, "Training." Jezalin pressed her lips together firmly but didn't admonish Squirt. Instead, she gestured for Squirt to approach. Leery of the silent command, Squirt trotted forward, keeping her eyes down to not risk offending her.

Tobias's sister or not, the woman was practically a stranger, no matter how good-looking. Her hand was pleasantly cool as it touched Squirt's skin and she wordlessly cast a heal over Squirt's body, small pulses of warm light escaping and rippling over her skin. She murmured quietly, "I suppose this is a hazard of your job." Squirt snorted at the almost resigned acceptance in her tone.

"More like a hazard of life. Life in the Capital was more dangerous to me than the Wylds have ever been." Damn straight, came Pakos's silent thought, making Squirt twist a little to scowl over her shoulder at the sassy hound. Something darker passed over Jezalin's face, and Squirt studied her as the healer mentally retreated, her attention on Squirt's side both intense and vague. It had her concentration without her focus.

Lord Prince Ranin drew Squirt's attention away from Jezalin as he said, "What components do you need for those ritual staffs? Any you are missing, I'll send Cirn for so that you can craft in here." Squirt gave the man a hard stare. He faltered. She huffed. His confidence withered at his inability to understand her vexation. She finally bit out, "You would have me do this in the command tent?" He blinked a few times, clearly not seeing the issue with it.

Jezalin saved the day as she spoke up and quietly said, "Kind but inconsiderate, Ranin. Anyone could walk in, and if you ward it for privacy but allow her in…" her voice trailed off and she lifted a meaningful brow. Lord Prince Ranin groaned, dropping his face into his hands.

"I get it, I get it… gods, these kinds of rumors never used to bother me, but to think I'd want anyone other than Annabelle is just insane, least of all a—ah, no offense meant, huntress." Squirt raised a brow. Poor bastard must be freshly mated. That first ten years or so was devotion, but after that? Most got tired of it. Squirt definitely did. Though she'd never been truly mated. Perhaps that changed things. No, the redcap should not be popping up into her thoughts— Jezalin giggled, pulling back from Squirt.

"You may relax. That might have been a problem if it weren't for me being here. Explain that I am enchanting and preferred privacy, and that the Lord Norland was generous enough to offer." Lord Prince Ranin nodded.

"That I can do. I suppose you're fine if I lay it on a bit thick?"

"I give you full permission to do as you see fit." Squirt eyed them both in confusion and wariness, because swapping out the lord for a lady would do nothing about the rumors of them fucking in the command tent. Jezalin gave her a conspiratorial wink that explained at least one of them was aware of that fact.

"What components do you require?" Lord Prince Ranin repeated. Feeling somewhat like the earth had shifted under her feet, she answered, "Smooth river rocks, however many for the stones you want. A basilisk feystone. I have the rest."

"We'll see it done, then." He nodded to Cirn, who bowed and turned, exiting out the tent to go and do grunt work. For Squirt. Bewildered by her entire world being flipped on its head in a matter of minutes, the lord prince finally snapped her out of her daze by clearing his throat before beginning with a weirdly nonchalant, "So. Out of random curiosity… how would you describe Bartos?" Jezalin's expression flattened, and Squirt took a step away from her, thoroughly weirded out by everything.

"Lord Everwinter," came the almost impatient, desperate clarification from Lord Prince Ranin, like her silence had been confusion over the subject and not at the topic itself. Squirt's eyes snapped to his, noting an odd intensity to his eyes hidden behind badly feigned casualness.

"Just… if you were to describe him…" Squirt's discomfort grew, and both fey noticed that as she took a step back, she turned to face both of them at once, keeping them warily in her sights while backing up towards Pakos. Lord Prince Ranin's face cracked with visible heartbreak that only further estranged Squirt from them, while Lady Jezalin's face was merely softened by hers. Squirt reared back from them both, utterly baffled and distinctly uncomfortable with this turn of events.

Namely that they were both making pleading faces now, and pleading faces were her greatest weakness. Gritting her teeth and clenching her fists, she dropped her eyes down to the ground before emotionally distancing herself. To their distress, the emotive pixie was replaced with cold indifference and a monotone cadence of voice that lacked any feeling at all.

"Lord Everwinter is an exceptional example of lordship, my lord prince."

Ranin, knowing he had triggered her pulling back like this, desperately tried to think of a way to coax her back out of her shell. He turned to Jezalin, hoping she would have some kind of answer, could help bridge the gap— Instead, he was met with her cool smile as she silently chastised him. A light went off in his mind as he studied her expression. Jezalin sighed deeply. Then she reached into a pouch on her hip and pulled out a box.

Though the change was slight, Ranin noticed how there was now a barely perceptible tension to the pixie woman's shoulders. Jezalin gave her a warm smile.

"Donuts. I've been saving them, fresh from the Capital. Tobias mentioned you were a fan. I figured we could snack while we wait—after all, what is the benefit of a title but to give your friends excuses to sit around and snack on sweets while others do their work?"

The directness of her statement, accompanied by a sultry tease just on the edge of her voice, had Squirt warily considering her again. Lord Prince Ranin cleared his throat as he abruptly stood.

"Well, then. I'll leave you to it," and strode out of the tent. Leaving Squirt alone with Jezalin. I'll have you know I haven't left. She scowled. Fine. Alone with Jezalin and Pakos. That's hardly alone, isn't it? She had never wanted to throttle a dog, but here she was, wanting to throttle a dog while a fallen offered her fucking donuts and a lady knight of a Lord Prince Commander fetched her components for enchanting. What even was her life, anymore? Magical. Gods fucking damnit, Pakos—