A Mischievous Tale of Magical Mayhem

9 | Do We Have a Deal?

Tallon reared his head back as if he'd been slapped when the word 'slave' left Ben's mouth. His country didn't dare get caught up in slave trade—the very idea among Sagehand and the neighboring states was abhorrent, and anyone who sold other sentient beings into forced labor was shunned. Tallon was aware the practice existed on other continents; he'd even heard Raebel mention Maisie's predicament, but until Ben approached him with the idea, it had been only that: a concept Tallon couldn't understand or condone.

"I am not presenting anyone as my slave." He softened his voice when Ben flinched. Thank Zetia for the lodge's thick walls, or the guards surely would have realized he had an uninvited guest by now. "You're asking me to take you on my journey, but how do I know I can trust you? My animal sniffed you out on the docks right as a very convenient distraction allowed you to slip away. Then you tried to break into my room this morning, and afterwards, you were caught stealing. Much as I could use that favor, I need you to convince me I can sleep with both eyes closed."

Ben blinked at the elven man. They'd gotten off on the wrong foot, it seemed.

"There is plenty of honor among thieves," he said, "so I will tell you honestly. I was at the docks to pick pockets, and was searching for a mark. I... sensed... that you carried something of value. I don't know how else to explain it."

He bit his lip, and Sprout squeaked and stroked the side of his face with a surprisingly soothing gesture for such a tickly, prickly, thorny creature.

"Anyway," Ben continued. "I saw you take down the notice I'd just put up—the one for the Tularul—and I thought you might come there, so I went home and changed. I thought such a fine gentleman like yourself would appreciate Benna's attentions more than... well, this."

He gestured at himself and shrugged.

"You know the rest. That drunkard grabbed me. You came to my aid, and then you vanished. I came after you to express my thanks. And I didn't try to break into your room, by the way," he added. "That was all Sprout. I was afraid I'd be caught, and then..." He giggled and took another sip of wine. "Then I got caught anyway, and you rescued me again. And here we are. So, you may tell me to go on my way, if you choose. I can hardly blame you. And I'll do as well as I can on my own, but I'd not place high stakes on my chances. Or... we can help one another. Fate has thrown us together it seems. Or do elves not believe in such things?"

Damn. With a dozen thoughts bombarding him at once, Tallon kept landing on 'damn.'

Damn Ben for being so vulnerable and open, damn him for making life harder for him, but most of all, damn him for being so gorgeous and not even realizing it.

Tallon traced a finger around the rim of his glass, pondering the other things Ben had mentioned. He wanted very much to close the space between them and take Ben right there on the table, but he kept the urge to himself. He'd probably scare the poor man away. Taking another sip of wine he said, "I think you look lovely no matter what you wear. I quite enjoyed you in that dress."

And no, for the love of all the deities, that wasn't a blush warming his cheeks. Surely, it must have been the alcohol and the effects of the cool evening flushing his skin.

He cleared his throat and forced himself through sheer will not to squirm or adjust his legs. Ben was enchanting, and Tallon could see himself easily falling into his pants—or skirts—and fucking him senseless until they fell asleep in each other's arms.

The idea made his heart quicken, and he cautiously lowered his gaze to his plate, so he didn't give away his arousal. After all, he still had a mission to complete.

Picking up his fork again, he shifted the fish around in the sauce, choosing his words carefully. "I suppose you know this town better than I do. What are your thoughts on Grelorn?"