We stay motionless for what seems like an eternity. Finally, the boy broke the silence, "Madam Sorrel, can we go now? I really need to pee..."

His simple words dispels the silence in this gloomy room. It was as if I woke up from a dream:

"Both of you," I sternly address my team, "Get moving and leave quickly."

"What about you?" the elfia asks. Surprisingly, she looks very well, as if she wasn't kidnapped and bound just a couple of minutes ago.

"I'll stay here and try to find out something about this woman's magic. She must have left some traces. It's a pity Sunshine isn't here, he would definitely help," I sigh, remembering how skilled necromancers are at searching for residual magic and information in general. Even though it's difficult to catch ghosts, technically they don't even exist, and they only appear at certain times, there are always plenty of ordinary spirits that can be witnesses.

The elfia thanks the boy for his help and approaches me, "I won't leave you here alone."

"You will leave, go to the inn and wait for me there. Zil, ward the room with protective spells when you get there."

The girl tries to argue with me, but I ignore her. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zil putting his hand on her shoulder and asking her to go with him to a safe place.

I shouldn't have wasted my time on this because when they left, I realised that the only magic in this house is my own and a little residue of Zil's aura. This woman didn't use it at all! Is it some kind of terrible self-hypnosis of fear, or is it some previously unknown technique or artifact?! I've heard of such things: you never know for sure when it comes to magic, it's like trying to understand a person and their soul, but no matter how hard you try, another's soul is a mystery, the same goes for magic. Just when you think you've sorted everything out, systematized it, something new comes up and you have to start all over again, not to mention artifacts from other hidden dimensions. You can hone your skills for years, read thick books on the theory and practice of magic, but then a woman with a scorpion around her neck comes along, and you can't move from fear.

After wandering around the room for a while and muttering a couple of spells that help detect the unseen, I give up.

There's nothing to do here. I step out onto the street, squinting from the bright light after being in semi-darkness.

Zil and the elfia are waiting for me at the inn. I enter, and they both jump off the bed where they were sitting. The bathtub is still filled with cold water. I'm surprised how quickly the events of one day can change so drastically; the mood of the past is long gone. I don't praise the boy; I don't want him to get too proud. I know from experience that excessive flattery isn't beneficial at his age, but he did a good job, the protection spell is excellent, and he even included me as an exception, giving me a way to enter freely.

"So, what did you find out?" Svartalf presses her hand to her chest; she looks completely human now: her forehead is furrowed, her eyes are shining. Being surrounded by people doesn't suit her.

I shake my head "no" and sit weakly on the rickety chair by the door.

"Madam Elfia briefly told me what happened," the boy says modestly. "I swear I won't tell anyone about your important secret; it will go to the grave with me."

I grin, "Come on, why so much drama. Even what the three of us know didn't give them a reason to kill us. It feels like this whole situation with the heirs has long ceased to be a secret for anyone!"

Silence hangs in the room. Everyone is contemplating my words.

"What's your plan now, elfia?" I say tiredly. The boy also looks at her with such an expression on his face as if his entire fate depends on it.

The elfia licks her cracked lip, which has almost healed (not without Zil's help, I suppose), and lowers her eyes to the floor. She seems afraid to look me in the eye, "We obviously failed. I failed everything. I am incapable of anything, even standing up for myself and my decisions. Madam Eden Sorrel, I ask you to do me one last favor and take me to my mother's house. That's all I can do as an honest subject of my country."

"I agree. Who wants to eat? I'm dying of hunger."

"Are you kidding me? I'm trying to be serious, and you..." the girl clenches her fists with indignation.

I wash my face with cold water from the bath and try to tidy up my black hair somewhat, ignoring her righteous anger.

"Come on, let's go, I don't have enough money, and the boy needs to be fed. Because of us, he'll starve to death and never write his bestseller about aquatic creatures. You're practically killing a scientist; you're killing the last bastion of culture of our great and invincible Woodland."

"Woodland is just a shadow of itself! Westlandia has long sucked all the juices and dignity out of your country. All the smart and noble people have long fled the country when they realized what happened to Kattia's husband and Imor's father and his whole family; only the corrupt priests of Amixantra's temples, wealthy scoundrels, and brainless peasants are left!"

"Well, forgive us, brainless peasants, we're not as smart as your beautiful and noble elven asses. It's easy for you to talk, elfia. You wander through the lands of my poor and repressed homeland, cursing the evil queen, lamenting the injustice of my people's lives, but as soon as you smell burning, you quickly run back to your mommy in your cozy, fair elven land. It's easy to criticize someone else's country when you know you can give a bribe at any moment or go to the elven embassy in the capital. Woodland is not your country; you weren't born here. You won't understand how ordinary people like me or Zil live! Do you think we've always been wizards with academic education? Well, here's a surprise for you!"

"It's not fair to give these assumptions about me. Besides, I'm interested in Woodland and humans because my father isn't an elf!"

"Ohhh, you don't say so! Who would have thought?! Well then, that changes everything. Probably in your childhood instead of three pet unicorns, you had only one, poor pony."

"I'm actually a little hungry," Zil modestly admits, chiming in our conversation.

***

The novel is finally complete. You can get the access to all final chapters becoming my Patron (the link is in my bio)
🌈✍️ As a passionate lesbian writer, my mission is to fill the shelves with stories that reflect our experiences, our love, and our voices. Each word I write is fueled by the desire to create a world where every sapphic woman can see themselves reflected in literature. Your support means the world to me – whether it's through sharing my work, spreading the word, or contributing on Patreon. Together, let's amplify queer narratives and pave the way for more diverse and inclusive storytelling. Thank you for joining me on this journey! 💜