Yanael gave a predatory smile to herself when she heard I’m only refusing today. So there was something there after all.
— And who said I’ll be this open with you tomorrow?
She didn’t even turn back to the peasant. Reaching the door, she grabbed the handle and flicked it open with two fingers.
— And you know, proud little bunny… Suffering is always nicer when you do it together.
She slipped through the doorway like a quick fox and closed it behind her, leaving only a thin crack in the frame.
— Fair enough…
Ivy muttered thoughtfully, continuing her work.
No one could ever predict what mood Yanael might be in — even a moment later, let alone the next day. The elf was right again: suffering alone was a losing game. Still, the peasant was used to it.
Lost in her thoughts, she began humming softly under her breath. Something like a lullaby — or one of those songs sung at city festivals she had once visited. Her hips swayed playfully as she swept the dust into a single pile and finally pushed it out the door.
Between her thoughts, the humming, and the odd little dance with the broom, time passed faster. Ivy shut the front door tightly, then closed each of the windows and walked back toward the spot near the table.
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Dropping down right there, she sighed tiredly and shifted around, trying to find the least uncomfortable way to sleep. She had done enough for one day. Tomorrow will be longer.
Morning came.
Yanael stormed into the first room and walked straight up to the peasant sleeping on the floor. She nudged Ivy with her foot to check whether she was awake.
— If you’re not into girls, you could’ve just said so, for fuck’s sake.
For the first time she didn’t look confident or playful. Instead, she looked annoyed — almost hurt. Her eyes were lowered to the floor, her lips pressed together as if someone had offended her. There had always been hints of childish stubbornness in the elf, and now they surfaced again. She was clearly in a bad mood.
Maybe she had spent too long thinking about the possibility that Ivy simply didn’t want her. And for some reason, she’d fixated on it — even though she usually ignored things like that.
Ivy jerked awake, rolling across the floor before jumping to her feet. She looked at the woman with sleepy, confused eyes. When she realized there was no danger — just an irritated Yanael — she dropped back down, rubbing her eyes and yawning loudly. Her hair was a complete mess, falling across her shoulders and face.
— I didn’t… say that…
Another yawn interrupted her, and she gave a small shrug.
— I didn’t say that. I like everyone. Men, women, humans, elves… What difference does it make if I like them? I slept with a girl once. Sweet, shy — a beast in bed. And you’re clearly a beast outside the bed too, if we’re talking about that. I told you already — you’re the only elf I actually like. The only one I really know, too, but still.
Крестьянка вздохнула, чувствуя, как боль от удара ногой распространяется по спине. День и так обещал быть тяжелым. Почесав волосы, она встала и подошла ближе к Янаэль, осторожно коснувшись руки эльфа.
— Мне нравятся женщины. Особенно такие, как ты. Ты живая, энергичная, непредсказуемая — совсем не похожа на этих чопорных, правильных эльфов. Именно это мне в тебе и нравится.
Эльфийка, казалось, почти ничего не замечала вокруг. Единственное, что занимало её мысли, было вот что. Она начала сомневаться в собственной привлекательности. Давно она ни в чём не сомневалась, поэтому, когда она снова заговорила, её слова прозвучали резко, почти сердито.
— Тогда возьми меня. Прямо здесь. Прямо сейчас. Неужели ты выберешь каких-нибудь случайных эльфов из борделя вместо такой аппетитной эльфийки, как я?
