Page 40 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

That morning, when he was bringing me from the dungeon, there were moments the king felt downright hospitable. I thought I even saw him smile, once directly at me. But it left as quickly as it came, and I wasn’t counting on seeing it again.

Eilir hummed over that, still guiding me with their entire hand wrapped around two of my fingers as we moved up a half-set of stairs, through a door, and into another hall.

I was a little over the dark stone and blue nytefire already.

“He likes sweets,” Eilir finally said. “And…and…”

I slid a glance over at the sprite, whose tiny hand had trembled around mine. They grimaced and looked up at the vaulted ceiling of the hall.

I chuckled. “And…?”

Eilir sighed. “And lots of other things I’m not supposed to tell you.”

Ah, of course.

The king was clear he wanted me to make an informed decision, and one would think something as simple as knowing the likes of my proposed captor-turned-husband would be included with that.

But I shouldn’t have been surprised Maksym would be hard at work in the background, setting boundaries—likely clearly telling Jasper and Gallan to not tell me what damned day it was.

That didn’t mean I wouldn’t try to squeeze every bit I could out of this little sprite, though. “Like what?”

I’d never known a piece of animated wood could wear such a scandalized look.

“Like lots of things I can’t tell you,” they squeaked as they dropped my hand and flew ahead, their wings glittering in the nytefire light. “Max would be very unhappy with me.”

“Oh, come on, Eilir.” I put on a pleading voice that used to get me out of trouble with my father. “What else does he like? It would really help me decide what I’m going to do if I knew more about him. Does he have hobbies? Collecting wives as prisoners and killing them, maybe?”

Eilir looked back only to level a frown at me.

Right.

It was time for a different approach, and I was running out of time.

I’d just caught sight of open doors pouring light out into the hall, and someone had just carried a platter in. So, I stopped dead in my tracks. “I have a question about something else then, if you’ll humor me?”

Eilir’s wings buzzed as they flew back. With their tiny hands planted on their slim, bark-covered hips, they said, “I might.”

“Do all sprites have wings like yours? I…well…” I flashed them a sheepish smile. “You’re the first one I’ve met.”

Eilir’s black eyes widened before they shook out their wings and smoothed back the stems of leaves atop their head, like a preening little bird. “Yes, we do. Variations in color and size, of course.”

“I see.” I tapped my chin. “Do the colors mean anything? I don’t have wings, of course, but my father always said the color of my eyes meant I was to be as sturdy as the earth beneath our feet.”

Eilir smiled at that.

“It depends on how She felt when She created us. What purpose She thought we would bring.”

“She?”

“Mina, silly,” Eilir chuckled. “She is our mother.”

Well, that was news to me, though I wasn’t sure if that was because I’d never been told it in my scant few history lessons on the reportedly extinct creatures, or if it was just never discussed.

The gods of the dark fae weren’t exactly a topic we delved into often.

“Well, she was clearly thrilled when she created you,” I said. “Your wings might be the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.”

That much was the honest-to-goddess truth.