Iron Elf - A Race Reborn (Book 2) (3 page)

“I could use a shower,” Heronimo said. “Oh, hey, rain!”

He walked into the open air, shedding his clothes as he went.

I stared. “A barbarian is bathing in our front lawn. Mina, I thought he was housebroken.”

She rolled her eyes. “He understands indoor plumbing. Doesn’t mean he likes it. At least he’s stopped peeing in the halls.”

Splashing sounds. “Come on out, the water’s fine!”

“Brrr. I’m getting frostbite just looking at him. I think I’ll head inside.”

“Very good, sir.”

“Yaa—” I jumped sideways and into the rain, shrieked, and jumped back under shelter. “Dagonet, don’t do that.”

“Milord? I merely opened the door to take your bags. And to inform you that you have a visitor. The capran ambassador.”

“What’s she doing here?” Mina wondered.

“Have someone bring out soap and a towel,” I told my assistant. “I won’t have the Northlander air-drying all over my carpets. Excuse me, my rented carpets.”

“It didn’t make sense to buy!” Mina said. “You know how elves hold onto real estate!”

I headed to the parlour where the ambassador waited.

It wasn’t enough to say she was beautiful. As an elf I was used to beauty—even the poorest of my kind has the symmetry of form and face so prized among other races. An elf girl is a lovely thing. An elf woman, with her youthful looks and centuries of experience, is very nearly the perfect lover.

But few elves were as delicious as the capran woman before me.

She stood up from the couch, back straight and knees together, and somehow that prim little movement flashed more skin than a dozen dancing girls. Her skin was a creamy gray and her eyes were liquid blue. “Prince Veneanar.” She curtsied. “I bring a message from my liege.”

“Madam Ambassador.” I bowed. I took her hand and raised it to my lips, but she raised her hand so fast it smacked me in the nose. “Oh!” She giggled. “I beg your pardon. My people don’t practice that form of greeting.”

I rubbed my nose. “It’s ngokay. How do your people greet each other?”

“Like this!” She grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me into a kiss. She was short but solid. Before I knew it she had wrapped her legs around me and we fell into the couch.

“Oof!” I’d landed sitting down—she was straddling me and giggling. “Why, Prince Veneanar! I see somebody likes me!”

I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so she took them and placed them on her butt.

“Madam Ambassador!”

“Call me Tamril, yes yes. French me like one of your drow girls.”

Wriggling and giggling and writhing. She was strong, too strong to resist, although to be honest I wasn’t resisting much. She was a sweet little bundle, all firm curves and nervous energy. She smelled of lavender and musk and she covered my neck with sharp kisses. “Mmm. I’m thinking our two nations could work together, Angrod. May I call you Angrod?”

“I—I—is this really how your people greet each other? You’re making it hard for me—to think. To think!”

“No. But I like you. I really like you. We’ve met before, do you remember? It was the royal ball.”

I hadn’t been to a royal ball since… oh gods. “You were there? The night I went dragon? How could I forget! That dress!”

“Short in the front, long in the back. Business in the front, party in the front.” She kissed me. “Although come to think of it, darling, there’s a party in the rear too.”

“That wasn’t a good night for me. Or for everyone else.”

“I watched you transform, and let me tell you something—it was hot. Do you think you could do it again?” She slid lower. “Because I’ve never ridden a real live dragon before. Please? I’ll be good to you.” She slid even lower. Her knees were on the carpet.

“What. Is. Going. On.”

“Oh, hello there Mina. Eh heh heh. Just a little diplomacy.”

“You decided on the direct approach, so you took the ambassador by the horns?”

I looked at Tamril. I was holding her goat horns like they were handlebars. I let go in a hurry. “Eh heh heh.”

“Whoah. I may have to take another cold shower.”

Heronimo had walked into the parlour in nothing but a skimpy towel. Cruix followed and gave me a thumbs-up. “That’s the spirit, Angrod. Breed her! Breed her well!”

“You might want to turn her around though. It’s a much quicker route to her womb.”

They high-fived.

Dagonet walked in. “Sir, you’ve got another visitor.” And of course it was Meerwen.

“Uh…” I said.

My sometime-girlfriend turned white, then red, then white again. Her eyebrows went to war against her lips. For a second they looked like they were trying for several expressions at once.

Auntie Marilla walked in with a trolley. “I’ve made tea, dearies. Tea and hot chocolate. And cinnamon cookies to go with.” She saw Tamril and crinkled into a smile. “Aren’t we a nice girl? But I’ll have you know, we don’t normally do that till after the second date.”

Then she patted Tamril on the head.

“Tell me about this message,” I said.

Tamril and I were in my study. After the chaos earlier (“Angrod, in the parlour, with the ambassador!”) I thought it was a good idea to move the meeting someplace quieter. There’s also the fact that I wanted a solid oak desk between me and the horny goat girl. She looked like she’d climbed over a desk before, but at least it would give me some warning.

I dipped a finger in my hot chocolate, then took a sip. Tamril said, “Arawn is calling in your marker.”

I choked. I’d promised a year of service to the capran king, payment for Heronimo’s life. My friend had been poisoned by a sea-wyvern and Arawn had called upon his sorceresses to heal him.

They’d done quite a bit more than that, for which I was grateful. I hadn’t spoken with Arawn since then, but his nation had been one of the first to recognize my claim to the elven throne. That might have saved my life.

“Now? He requires my services now? What is this is about?”

“In three days. As to your mission…” she shook her head. “My liege entrusts me with a great deal, but in this case he has chosen to remain silent.”

“What can I pack? Did he say?”

“He didn’t. Just that he needed to speak with you. Why would you need to pack?”

“No reason.” She didn’t know about the year of service, then.

“He did say this was a secret meeting. Don’t bring your entourage.”

CHAPTER
3

I walked Tamril to the door. I watched her go with some reluctance. She wore a long skirt, but a tight one, and I knew for a fact that she worked out.

Mina stalked into the room. “Meerwen left. She was going to invite you to dinner, but you seemed to have your hands full.

“Aw, man!”

“What is it with you and her? She’s Elanesse—how can this end well?”

“Says the girl dating out of her species.”

“At least Heronimo and I aren’t political enemies.”

“Arawn is calling in his marker. I’m going to be spending time away from home.”

She stared, then sat heavily in the couch. “Well. Never a convenient time, is there?” She held her head. “You know Findecano’s gonna find some way to use this.”

“He can do whatever he wants. We owe Arawn. Or have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t. Okay, spin time. How can this make us look good? Can we say you’re on a diplomatic mission to the Silver World?”

I shook my head. “Arawn wants this secret. I’ll be going alone in any case.”

“I don’t think so, milord.”

“Gah. Dagonet, how long have you been here?”