Naya's mother didn't even flinch. She just stared at Mason and then Amit with cold assessment, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. Amit looked like he was having trouble breathing, his whole frame withering beneath her gaze.
"Oh," Mason added, putting a hand on the poor librarian’s shoulder. "And I told Amit here if he didn't help I'd cut him into pieces. So it's not his fault."
The man nodded, a little too enthusiastically. Mason did his best not to groan.
"Leave us," said the elven councilwoman, her eyes locked on Mason's. Amit glanced at Mason with mouth agape, then put a finger to his chest.
"Yes," Mason sighed. "She means you can go."
Amit let out an embarrassingly deep breath, making several gestures with his fingers to his temple and forehead before basically backing into the portal.
"I'll wait, um, back in the library...if you...that is, if the councilwoman thinks..." he vanished before he finished the thought, leaving Mason alone with the naked woman in the tub.
He was a bit off balance.
He'd come in ready for some kind of verbal and possibly physical confrontation, until the council decided to either help him, or try to kill him.
He also understood these people were somewhat...conservative. That the women in particular cared about modesty. Yet here he was with a woman who seemed completely unbothered by his presence, not remotely hostile, or afraid. Or really anything.
"Were you there?" she asked, after a rather uncomfortable length of time.
"Was I where?" Mason asked.
"In whatever shit hole place my son and husband died."
Mason still wasn't sure what he was dealing with. She stared at him like a wolf stared at a rabbit. Which was not at all a familiar way for Mason to be stared at.
Was she a grieving widow past caring about social niceties? A heartless bitch who just said or did whatever she liked?
"No," Mason said. "I was too late. But I saved your daughter, and most of her people."
"How convenient," the woman said without missing a beat. "The noblemen dead. The princess at your mercy."
Mason let out a breath, not sure how he'd suddenly entered an interrogation.
"Convenient is not a word that describes my life. I didn't know your people existed until I was saving them. And I didn't come here to meet the in-laws. Something...attacked me, in the fey. I need help getting back to the...material plane, I think you call it. That's all I want."
Naya's mother stared into Mason's eyes with such intensity he almost looked away. Then she shrugged, as if she either believed him or didn't care. She came forward to the edge of the tub, then stood.
Her body proved every theory Mason had about Naya's. Though her mother was softer, more pale, and with none of the muscle Naya had in her limbs.
It seemed the House of Anshan were more dark skinned, the mother’s complexion closer to Mediterranean. And it was hard to believe she was Naya's mother. She looked no more than thirty to Mason's eyes. Just as beautiful. No sign whatsoever she'd ever given birth.
"Have you slept with my daughter yet?" she asked, stepping out from the tub and lifting a nearby towel to dry her hair. She made no move at all to cover herself. Mason did his best to bring his eyes back up.
"Where I'm from, ma’am, that wouldn't be any of your business."
The elven woman raised a plucked brow.
"Well, where I'm from, human, there is no marriage until it's been consummated. So is it, or isn't it?"
Mason clenched his jaw.
"We aren't married yet.”
Naya’s mother laughed and squeezed some water from her hair.
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"What a careful answer. But it will do." Her eyes drifted up and down Mason from head to toe. "She must see something I don't. But then she always was good at spotting potential. Would you...like to have me? Here? Now? I think I might enjoy the novelty of a human. And here I was just wishing I had someone in my bath..."
Mason blinked, not quite sure he'd heard that right. At least until one of the elf's hands drifted across her breast. He hadn't had a woman in several days, and just the sight of one brought his endless, phase two enhanced libido raging to his attention.
But even for his new, rather loose standards, this seemed all kinds of wrong.
"That would be a very bad idea."
"Would it?" The woman shrugged, coming forward as she tossed back her hair. "I'm a widow. You're as yet unmarried. Who's to know, who’s to care?"
"Oh.” Mason tried picturing how that conversation might go. “I think my future bride might care."
Lady Anshan's pretty face turned slightly nastier.
"Well. You're about to ask the council for help. And I assure you, they aren't going to be receptive. Give me what I want, and I'll do what I can. I make no guarantees, of course, but a friendly voice would be far better than none at all. Otherwise..."
She shrugged, eyes still roaming Mason’s body. But if she thought this was the way to get what she wanted, she was definitely wrong.
"I don't take well to blackmail.”
"Blackmail? I merely tell you facts, and offer a choice. And would it really be so terrible?" Naya’s mother started coming forward, taking careful steps towards Mason as she dropped the towel to the floor. "It's been quite some time for me. I don't know how human men couple, but, I can be quite accommodating."
Mason just about turned and ran. It seemed the safest choice.
Somewhere out there Cerebus was watching him, whispering to take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted—to live like a king without shame, to have the mother, the daughter, to have it all.
But this was too much. Even for him.
He caught the woman's hand when she tried to touch his chest. He could smell her now, the soap, something like lavender, her hair and skin...
"You're angry with your daughter," he said. "I understand. But I'm not going to help you hurt her."
The elf met his eyes, holding what he believed was a kind of facade for a few more seconds before it broke. Her dark eyes blinked, then she spun away and lifted her towel, wrapping herself before she leaned on the tub with a kind of broken sob. Mason just waited.
"I've lost everything," she said eventually, staring at the wall. "They'll remove me from the council soon. My presence already embarrasses them. A living reminder of a fallen house. An open wound in female form. They've stripped my husband's land. So far no one has come, but sooner or later they will make me leave my estate. I have nowhere to go, except crawling back to my father's house."
"I'm sorry," Mason said, already regretting the words about to leave his mouth. "But you could join your daughter. We have a safe place. Your husband's people are there. I'm sure Naya would be happy to see you."
The elf looked at Mason, then away.
"It's not possible," she said, as if out of reflex more than anything. Mason took a few steps toward her until she met his eyes.
"I'm sure that's what they said to your husband. And to your daughter. But they've already won. They survived. They're safe. And I'm pretty sure even old Dariya believes your people might be able to have children in our settlement. We don't know yet for sure, but my intuition says yes. Call it druid instincts."
The woman's eyes went wide at this.
"They…they told you..."
"They told me enough. So now you have a choice. Help me. Come with me and take a chance. Or stay here and..." Mason waved at the sauna-like room. "Do this. At least until that council of yours buries you away somewhere. And then live in shame for...pretty much eternity, I guess. So choose."
The elf shook her head and stared, a small smile eventually tugging at the corners of her lips.
"I think I'm beginning to see what Naya sees in you, after all. You're blunt almost beyond tolerance. But in truth I am not so different. When circumstance allows." She glanced at her body wrapped in the towel and cringed slightly. "You won't...I mean...if we were to return..."
"I won't tell Naya," Mason said.
The woman smiled a little, and she touched her fingers to her temple and forehead in the increasingly familiar gesture.
"I realize I didn’t introduce myself. My name is Ayet. Shall I call you druid? Baron? Perhaps son in law?" She and Mason made what was probably a similar grimace, and Ayet raised her brow and looked away. "Perhaps I'll just call you Mason. If that would be acceptable."
"Sounds good to me. Now I'm in a hurry. My friend is probably in trouble. And I really need to get back to my people. So I'm hoping you have a better plan than I do for getting your council to teleport me."
"What is your current plan?" Ayet said, using the towel to hide herself as she pulled on underwear hanging on a nearby shelf.
"Ask nicely.” Mason shrugged. “If that doesn't work, threaten property damage so terrible they'd be better off getting rid of me."
"Oh dear." Ayet dressed herself with a more familiar, modest series of silk-like layers with impressive speed. When she was finished she took a deep breath and covered her hair with a scarf, too. After just seeing her completely naked, Mason had to admit the clothes actually kind of enhanced the attractiveness.
It was like her body was some secret only he knew. He was forced to cut the thought off before his libido took another stab at overcoming reason.
"Asking nicely rarely works," Ayet said with a sigh, glancing in a nearby mirror as she straightened her scarf and slipped in some stray hair. "Your second plan, while...unconventional, just might work." She frowned and turned to him. "But I don't think it's wise to tell them who you are. Your bluntness...can you...overcome it?"
"Uh. Probably?” Mason glanced back and forth. “Maybe you should be more specific."
Ayet blinked, her skin a little flushed. Their conspiring and potential mischief seemed to be bringing her more and more to life before his eyes. The effect was…not unappealing. Finally she wiggled her eyebrows and grinned.
"What I mean is, can you lie?"