"I offer my slavery."

Nix nearly spit out her wine when Prime Minister Asibridel, the apex of elvish grace, offered to debase herself to the lowest of human society.

Next, Nix choked on it because of Lady Elin's immediate reply.

"Fine. Walter accepts. Don Undmuth, we have business. Do you wish to perchase an elf?"

Lady Elin's reaction exceeded the prime minister's expectations since her mouth dropped into an 'o'. Three seconds of stunned silence passed before the room exploded into pandemonium.

Nix shook her head.

You sly bitch, I didn't get what you were doing until just now. Brilliant. You had it up until the end. Fine, I'll lend my aid.

Nix grabbed Prince Wilhelm's arm, who roared something about censuring the Sanctuary, and pulled him away from the screaming crowd. She whispered, "You need to declare Lady Elin just agreed to the prime minister's offer on Lord Walter's behalf. Say your hands are tied. Right now, everyone thinks Lady Elin said it in jest. Make it legally binding. Quickly!"

"What? She did say it in jest! Impossible! Why would I even do such a thing? They'll hate me, and god knows how it'll affect the kingdom--"

"Lord Walter was supposed to decline, but Lady Elin beat him to the punch. Look, you trust me, don't you? Please."

Prince Wilhelm sighed and shook his head, "I can't believe I'm about to agree to this..."

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"Isn't this nice?" Nix said. "It's like a romantic trip! We're on a date!"

Prince Wilhelm growled a lackluster agreement.

Prince Wilhelm intended, after the congress, to return home. The recent chaos sent him in the opposite direction, to the northern peninsula. A doubled-up Lord Walter and Lady Elin trotted ahead, and, beside them on a disobedient donkey, Prime Minister Asibridel followed.

Lady Elin demanded the most ill-tempered donkey, then she threatened the prime minister with violence if she spoke to, or looked at, Lord Walter. So far, Asibridel obeyed. Since the prime minister was technically the property of Lord Walter, and therefore under Lady Elin's power, the ex-paladin ran the prime minister ragged. She barked orders, and the elf rushed to complete them. She worked and slept in the lacy white dress she decided on for the summit, and it ruined. The prince, only once, attempted to intervene on the prime minister's behalf. He sorrowed with an earful of unladylike swearing. He petitioned Lord Walter for help, who, very quickly, changed the subject.

The ex-paladin's petty vindictiveness against the prime minister provided entertainment to the wayfarer elf mistress. If Lady Elin knew it was pointless, then she might just send Prime Minister Asibridel away. Nix could see that Asibridel's anxious and tired behavior was an act. At the prime minister's age, she experienced it all, and Nix doubted Lady Elin could do anything the prime minister couldn't shrug off. At worst, the prime minister was irritated, if that. Time tended to grind away the unimportant principles, and only enduring motivations remained.

"C'mon, you sourpuss, there's no reason to sulk. You always wanted to help the elves, didn't you? You won't do better." Nix's hands slipped down Prince Wilhelm's stomach. He snorted and lifted them out of his crotch.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Prince Wilhelm muttered. "When my mother catches wind of this, I won't escape unsinged. Our foreign policy is in shambles. I've made a fool out of Lord Walter and Lady Elin with this stunt. The other five nations are, to put it mildly, upset."

"Queen Vixandra?" Nix asked, and rocked him from the backside of the saddle, "Why would she be mad at you improving things?"

"Improving?!" The prince turned his head and eyes as far as he could to stare at the elf mistress grinning at his back. "Start talking or start walking, and you might still walk if you're not suitably apologetic!"

Nix giggled at the empty threat. "Think about it, sweetheart. How many conflicts has the Alune Theocracy caused between Wilmand and Rangville, antagonizing the elves? The only reason Rangville even tolerates the theocracy in the first place is because they desperately need their magic. But now..."

When Nix's voice trailed off, Prince Wilhelm picked up the reasoning. "Now the Sanctuary's prime minister is owned by Eovamund's heroes. They wouldn't dare, in case they insulted Lord Walter. Wait, you said Lord Walter was supposed to decline her offer? How would she even know that he would? Why wouldn't he say yes? Wouldn't that be the opposite of gaining his protection?"

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Nix's voice dropped an octave, and she whispered in the prince's ear. "Wait, are you saying you'd buy the prime minister? I'm not adverse. She has wonderful breasts. Maybe you should? No, I want her, buy her for me. Then we could do whatever we wanted with her, and she couldn't say no! Let's take her down a peg or two. Imagine it! I told you before, she'd agree, so long as you help the Sanctuary. By Hera, I'm agreeable, and I don't invoke my original deity often, you know. What kinds of depraved things should we make her do?"

"That's not what I meant!" Prince Wilhelm wiggled his head away and yelled at the sky. "Nobody's buying the prime minister!"

"She's already a slave, so what does it matter? Fine. I'll use my own money. Lady Elin will probably sell her to me for cheap."

"Forbidden!"

"That's a shame." Nix returned to seriousness. "Anyway, she was guilt-tripping him, and she nearly cornered him. She's a smart woman, and I think she understands Lord Walter better than you do. Turns out, Lady Elin is quicker to attack then he to relent. There's something I can't put my finger on that the prime minister also overlooked. You humans tend not to look directly at suffering if you have something pleasant to view. Especially," Nix waited a moment before she continued, "if it's not human suffering."

Several moments passed in silence before Prince Wilhelm said, "That's not true. We do see it. There's too much to go around to see it all."

"See what I mean? I guilt-tripped you, and you thought how I wanted. It took much less effort than what Prime Minister Asibridel spared on Lord Walter."

"Oh, for gong's sake," Prince Wilhelm snapped, "That's it, get off, you're walking."

"Fine, fine, fine." Nix hopped down.

"Never mind," Prince Wilhelm said ruefully, "Get on the horse."

"Hmm? Are you sure? You've only punished me for a minute, at best. Don't you want to make sure I learned my lesson? I can't promise I'll be a good little mistress if you're so lienient."

"I said get on the stupid horse!"

Nix giggled and jumped back up, "I knew it, you big softie."

"So what do we do about Lord Walter, Lady Elin, and the prime minister?"

"Not a thing. Prime Minister Asibridel is one of the few elves older than I. Maybe, not sure. Look, she can handle herself, and if she can't, then she deserves what's coming to her. I mean, unless you buy her, I'm sure Lady Elin wants to get rid of her, then we can give her what's coming to her in their stead. Fair's fair, and everyone's happy. I know you want to, you gigantic elf fetishist. It'll be fun. I promise."

"By Gaia, shut up, or I'll tell my mother on you."

"Now that," Nix frowned, "Is no fun."

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Unfamiliar nostalgia crept up on Nix the further north they traveled. The ground gradually changed, from the ideal farming loam to rocky soil. Breaking ground on the northern peninsula always proved impossible large scale. Nix watched the realization ripple across Lord Walter's face when he noticed it. He said nothing yet, but he would. It was a matter of time.

Nix tried farming before she determined to renounce the Sanctuary and her sisters. She never enjoyed it. As far as she knew, no elvish farmer ever derived any satisfaction from the string of inevitable failures. Many abandoned imitating traditional human farming and resorted to dwarvish mushroom cultivation. Unpalatable, but survivable. The vegetation, too, grew hardier.

Prime Minister Asibridel stiffened, like a woman caught in a compromising situation. She suddenly knew that Lord Walter knew. Her methods notwithstanding, Nix remembered her as someone who cared for her people, first and foremost. There were times the prime minister dived into levels of sacrifice other elves balked at. It was, ultimately, why they burdened her with the role and avoided it. Most elves, foolishly, clung to myths of their superiority, as the first enlightened race. While Nix doubted Asibridel still harbored such notions, being unable to show their worth probably wounded her. The face of supplication slipped away, and she returned to stoicism. Lady Elin would have more luck cracking the rocks in the soil now.

Nix firmly believed nothing good remained in elf society.

They passed their first village. The hovels amounted to little more than domes of carefully arched stones dug from the soil when they attempted to make farmland. Since elf women, in this case, virgin maidens, enjoyed great physical strength, making secure homes and living without walls wasn't a strict issue, yet, not this far inland. There weren't many, and Nix recognized the tell-tale signs the village would disappear soon.

It was probably a wayfarer outpost, at any rate, those that wanted to leave but hovered on indecision.

The women stood in dark doorways and stared at the procession. One teenager, and only one, stood with the women. They all dressed in dirty fraying rags and looked hungry. Some didn't disguise their disgust when they looked at Prime Minister Asibridel, riding a lesser animal as a human man's escort, second to a human woman. Others, well, a little more of their hope sapped away.

"Can I ask a question?"

"Of course, Lord Walter," Prime Minister Asibridel said.

"Where are all the elf men?"

Right to the poisoned core of the apple, huh, Lord Walter?

"The Sanctuary is matriarchial. The men do not leave. They are cared for and protected. For every seven elf women born, there is one male elf."

Nix snapped her teeth shut before she said something because what the prime minister said was not technically a lie.

Lord Walter hopped from his horse and began to scribble into the dirt with a stick. He repeated human letters, combinations of uppercase and lowercase. There were no words Nix recognized, just pairs of letters. When he finished, he stated, "Two times two times two, huh?"

"Walter? What are you doing?" Lady Elin asked.

After remounting, Lord Walter said, "I remembered my high school biology, so I wanted to work it out. Elves might have three pairs of sex chromosomes, so there are eight possible combinations, and only one of those create boys. Humans only have one pair, which makes the odds of a boy or girl fifty-fifty."

"And you divined this playing in the dirt? Beloved, sometimes..."

Lord Walter shrugged at Lady Elin's question, "Well, no, not exactly. I can't prove anything. All I did was run the math. I'm guessing half-elves aren't a thing?"

"Summoned, yes, long ago," Prime Minister Asibridel admitted, "But born? No, Lord Walter."

"It's not genetics. It's the Curse of Hera," Nix said. She didn't want to use an impatient tone, but it dropped out of her mouth.