2. Better Me Than Her
Chapter 2
Better Me Than Her
S tellon
Getting my first good chance to evaluate her face straight on, I was starting to experience a little hunger.
Strange. I’d never felt an attraction toward human women.
Then I looked down at myself and saw what she saw—filthy clothing, dirty skin, boots that hadn’t been blacked in years. To her, I must have appeared at least as unsavory as the band of ruffians, maybe more so.
No wonder she was suspicious of me.
“I told you, I mean you no harm. And you’re not harmed, are you?” My tone was pure innocence.
“Well no… I suppose not,” she said. “And I suppose I have no reason to doubt your word. So I guess I should thank you.”
Her obvious reluctance to do so made me smile.
“You’re most welcome, my lady.”
Tucking one hand behind my back, I gave her a courtly bow. “You may repay the favor by agreeing to leave the market and go home to your village immediately.”
Her head jerked back, causing her hood to fall off. A spill of shiny, dark curls covered her shoulders and collarbones.
“Go home? No,” she said, clearly distressed at the suggestion.
She backed away from me as if she suspected I meant to throw her over my shoulder and force her to comply.
Which, I had to admit, was a tempting thought. There was a growing sense of warmth in my abdomen as I pictured it. Yes, I definitely wanted to carry her off somewhere.
Very strange indeed. She wasn’t my usual type—tall, strong… Elven. This human was no more than a wisp, quite on the underfed side actually.
“I can’t go home,” she insisted. “Not yet. I have business to conduct.”
“What kind of business?” I was actually curious by this point.
What could possibly make her want to stay here after nearly being robbed? I knew it wasn’t an unquenchable desire for my continued company.
Her eyes shifted away, and her expression shuttered.
“It’s none of your concern.”
“Believe me, I have no interest in whatever bits and bobs you’ve brought to trade for hair ribbons,” I assured her. “Your ‘treasure’ is safe with me.”
She huffed an irritated breath. “I'm not here for hair ribbons .”
Her imperious tone rivaled even my father's, which was saying something. I gave her another once over.
Maybe she was some sort of human noblewoman? But no, her clothing looked even more threadbare up close.
She was clean and smelled quite nice, but this was not a person of means. Unless, like me, she had purposely donned peasant clothing for her trip to the market?
“Well whatever your business here was , it’s concluded for the day,” I informed her. “Unless you’d like to take your chances with those fellows back there, but I warn you… once they have a mark in their sights, they don't walk away empty-handed.”
The young woman lifted her chin and straightened her back, and I knew I was in for a swift put down.
“Well they are no more determined than I,” she said. “And I am onto their game now, so I’ll be more cautious. Thank you very much for your assistance, sir. I’ll return to the market now and conduct my business. I wish you a good day.”
The girl turned on one worn boot heel and began marching toward the next aisle of booths in a purposeful stride. I fell into step beside her, as amused by her bravado as I was dismayed by it.
“If you won't agree to leave, at least permit me to escort you,” I said. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed you to remain in jeopardy?”
Now she gave me a side glance, no doubt judging me unworthy of the title of “gentleman.” She seemed as baffled by my insistence as I was by her stubbornness.
Her response was curt.
“As I said, I do appreciate your offer of assistance, sir, but it is quite unnecessary.”
She faced forward again, walking faster in an attempt to outpace me but finding it impossible. My legs were far longer.
Blowing out a loud breath, she said, “It is broad daylight, the market is crowded, and I am not without my own resources. I do not wish to trouble you further.”
I gave her my most charming smile, pretending not to understand her unmistakable dismissal.
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I’m not busy. I was only here to people-watch.”
Now she stopped, turning to face me and taking a fortifying breath before addressing me in a tone of exaggerated patience.
“What I am trying to say… good sir… is that I do not want your company.”
That was new. Women didn’t usually reject me. It had never happened, in fact.
Now I was even more amused.
“Has anyone ever told you there’s no shame in accepting help when you need it?”
Her protest was immediate and adamant. “I don’t need it. I am quite capable of taking care of myself—in all things.”
But the way her eyes blinked rapidly then flickered away told me I’d hit on something. So I pushed a little harder.
And threw a little Sway behind my words.
“Everyone needs help sometimes,” I purred. “Even someone of your… obvious capability.”
She blinked several more times and shifted from foot to foot, clearly nervous now.
Great. I’d come on too strong.
Our Sway could often get us what we wanted, but it could backfire as well, spooking the humans we used it on because they felt something they couldn’t explain.
“Sir I…”
The young woman backed away a few steps.
“I do not mean to offend, truly,” she said in a much more humble tone. “But my father warned me to be wary of strangers in the Rough Market, and well… you are a stranger.”
That was the point where I could have chosen to reveal my identity and prove that I was not a poor beggar or yet another thief trying to trick her, that she had nothing I could possibly want or need and therefore had nothing to fear from me.
I could have told her that she actually knew who I was—everyone in the land had at least heard of me and my family.
We ruled them after all.
I could have continued to sway her, putting some actual effort into it this time.
But I didn’t. I’d frightened her enough already, and that was the exact opposite of my intention.
I wasn’t even sure why I’d gone to such lengths to keep talking to her since accomplishing my original goal—to get her out of harm’s way.
With a dip of my head, I said, “I’m sorry. Your father is a wise man, and you should listen to his advice.”
Clearly surprised by my sudden change in attitude, she gave me a wary glance.
“Thank you.”
There was a moment of awkward silence as we stood facing each other. Then she slowly turned and began walking away.
I let her get a comfortable distance before following.
She may not have wanted my protection, but she would be receiving it anyway, if only from afar.
My mission when I’d come here this morning was simply to soak up the atmosphere of the lively market, absorb its feeling of freedom, and record some of its sights to enjoy later when back under the constraints of my day-to-day life.
Now, for whatever reason, it was to ensure that this human woman concluded her mysterious “business” and made it back to her village safely.
It would have been so much easier if she were Fae. I could have ordered her to leave, and she’d have had no choice but obey.
Or I could have encouraged her to use her natural glamour to protect herself—that was, if the glamour she possessed was useful in any way for self-defense. Not all of them were.
Alas, she was merely human and therefore without magic.
So as not to unnerve her again, I maintained a distance. When I saw the band of thieves was still roving the aisles, I tensed, ready to spring into action and intervene once more.
I could get to her very quickly, if need be.
But the men simply walked past the young woman, albeit a little close for my liking, then turned the corner onto the next row. I breathed a sigh of relief but kept up my vigil.
She moved from booth to booth, inquiring of the various proprietors.
I wondered again what she was looking for. She seemed to be focused on the stalls that sold jewelry and statuettes and other decorative trinkets.
Maybe she was a noble woman in disguise after all, here to seek a bargain. The poor people I’d seen never seemed to concern themselves with artistic curiosities.
As I passed my original observation point, I bent and swept my hand down to pick up my pencils and drawing paper. All of it was, surprisingly, accounted for.
Then I resumed my slow, watchful pursuit of the woman. Surely she would tire soon and head back to the safety of her village?
Hopefully she’d remember her near-miss from today and never return here. Or if she did, maybe next time she’d bring along that father she’d mentioned.
Why had he allowed his naive daughter to come here unescorted in the first place?
Heat flashed up my neck and seared my cheeks. There was that baffling flare of protective anger again. I was like a stranger to myself today.
As innocent as the human woman seemed to be to the dangers of the world, it troubled me to think of her frequenting places like this one. If there was a next time, chances were I wouldn’t be around.
Soon, my time would be much more closely accounted for.
The woman glanced my way, and I turned abruptly, pretending to be interested in acquiring a lunch of fried fish from the stall immediately to my left. After a few moments, I turned back in her direction.
She had stopped at the booth of yet another trinket peddler, and the two of them were animatedly discussing something. The day had warmed, and she’d left her hood off. Her thick, dark hair shone in the sunlight like water glistening in a creek bed.
I had a brief, visceral image of running my hands through it, and something stirred in my abdomen.
Suddenly there was a blinding pain in my head.
My pleasant visions of the woman were replaced with a close-up view of the muddy pathway. Instinctively reaching back to touch my scalp, I felt wetness.
When I brought my hand back around, it was covered in something red.
What was happening? Was I bleeding ?
I couldn’t seem to get up, so I rolled over. Hovering above me were the sneering faces of the four thieves.
Apparently they’d decided to move on to a different target, no doubt irritated by my interference in their plans for the young woman.
Better me than her. As I’d said, I could take them.
Once again, I tried to get up, intending to do exactly that. But before I could manage to regain my feet, the ringleader lifted a club and brought it down hard against my temple.
That must have been what he’d used to strike me with the first time.
My head throbbing and spinning, I collapsed back into the mud.
Once, years ago, I’d made the mistake of getting too close behind Malo when he was feeding. The huge horse had kicked me in the head, and I hadn’t been able to think straight for two days.
This was like that. My usual strength was gone, sapped by the head wounds.
The pain in my skull was soon compounded by blows to other parts of my body. A boot connected with my rib cage, and I heard the crack audibly as well as feeling it like a lightning strike electrifying my nerve endings.
As I folded forward in agony, another foot connected with my chin and snapped my head back, slamming it into the ground.
The strikes seemed to come from every direction at once, the four men working in tandem to stomp, kick, and club me past the point of fighting back.
At some point it occurred to me… I might never make it to my feet again.
A delirious chuckle left my lips. How fitting.
After all the shameful things I’d done in service of my father, this was the death I deserved.
Of course he’d be mortified to learn that my immortal life had ended in such an inglorious manner, at the hands of humans , of all things.
He’d lament that if I’d only been born with a better glamour, like his for instance, I wouldn't have died in the mud like one of the plentiful market rats.
Before I lost consciousness, I thought of my brother, who’d have to take the throne in my stead, and to my sister, who’d mourn me.
And then my thoughts turned to the young woman.
Has she concluded her business and left already? Or was she still here?
I hoped not because it was highly likely that once I was dispatched, which wouldn't be long now, the hoodlums would target her next.
Abruptly the beating ceased.
Am I dead?
I thought not because if I were, I wouldn't have still been in such pain.
Of course, after the things I’d done, I didn’t deserve an afterlife spent in the paradise of Alfheim. Maybe this was what the opposite of heaven felt like—unending suffering.
But then, I still heard the sounds of the marketplace, smelled the pungent scent of discarded fish heads and entrails emanating from the back of the fishmonger’s stall.
With great effort, I lifted my eyelids, and the vision swimming before my eyes made me think I was in Alfheim after all.
The young woman was standing above me with fury on her face. Her skin glowed unnaturally, making her look like the sun goddess Austra.
And then I realized the glow wasn’t coming from within her, but from the torch in her hand. She held it aloft in a threatening manner.
“Now get out of here, all of you,” she ordered, “or I shall light you up and burn you to cinders.”
The four ruffians cowered before her, swearing viciously. They looked furious, frightened, and… wet.
Glancing overhead, I saw no rain clouds. Then I realized the men were not soaked with water but with oil. They reeked of fish.
In the hand she wasn’t using to hold the torch, the young woman gripped the handle of a large fry pan. It was empty.
“Go on,” she said. “If you are still standing here by the time I count to three…”
She lowered the torch and pointed it at the scarred leader. “... you will be the first to burn.”