Page 45 of Deadly Maiden

Such a cute and pretty female lying before me. Is there such a thing as too perfect to be evil? The blanket is clutched in her fist and bunched under her nose, though she’s pulled it too high. Her rear is exposed. The leggings will keep her warm. Alas, I’ve no excuse for fixing the blanket.

I think back to Orish and what he would do in this situation. He would not blame me for helping her. And that is enough to satisfy me.

He would encourage me to do so, and probably join me in bed with her if invited. His morals never stopped him taking any females who fawned on him.

I’m still pondering this when a wayward fairy buzzes in and lands on her ass. From the shriek, it has bitten her through the cloth. I stride over to shoo away the feisty critter but she’s on her feet. The fairy takes off, heading left into the tree line. I stop, torn as to what action is best.

“Ouch. I’m allergic to them.” She pouts at me, hand on the affected area.

Folding my arms, I probe for more information. “And? I’d suggest applying salve to the spot.” I smirk and raise a finger,indicating her lower anatomy. “I’d rub it in for you even. Sadly, I have none.”

“Sadly?” Wyntre laughs. “I bet you would. It’ll just itch. I’ll survive.”

“We can eat fast and get something to treat your rear in Venin. As I said yesterday, it should be a two-hour walk.” Then I remember. “First, I have to cut your hair.”

She winces. “That, too, I can survive.”

Eating our meagre breakfast takes little time. I dig in my bag and find the scissors I tried to use at the town then sit her on the log. I go behind her.

“You’re ready to be pruned?”

“Yes. I’ll count to one hundred and think of butterflies.”

“Not of fluttering fairies?” I gather her hair. Lying across my palm, the silky length weighs more than I expected. When allowed to fall naturally, it reaches her waist. It is a pity to have to do this. “Sorry.”

I start to cut. The pieces slide away from the slicing blades, falling to the log and to earth, until around her lies a zone carpeted with long sections of blue hair.

“There. This should fit under the hood, and that will do until I buy disguises from the illusionist in Venin.”

“Disguises?” she murmurs, sounding quiet and calm. “We’re visiting an illusionist?”

“Yes. A friend who won’t betray us.” I splay my hand over the back of her neck, indulging my senses. Her warmth spreads to my skin, and with each breath she takes, my hand rises and falls. I’m loath to step away. “After that, we can journey onward without being recognized.”

“Are you done?”

I raise the scissors. “Just a little more.” I pretend to find more hair, trimming miniscule amounts. “How is your fairy bite?”

“It’s less stingy. We should address my question from last night. What is evil? Though first let me explain what I think on this.”

“Okay.” I love hearing her talk. The rhythm of her words and her tone soothes me. Standing so close to her only makes the effect worse. If I kiss her shoulder, her cheek, or her mouth what would she do?

The urge to shield her from this harrowing personal hunt the king has begun has blossomed over these past few days. And as she speaks about what evil is, that need strengthens.

Why is it you see necromancy as evil? Is the bringing of the dead back to life always bad? Why is that so? It is surely only the creation of new life.

If itisevil, then so must be war, where thousands are made dead. Yet you fought in a war. I know, so did my parents. I do wonder, though, if all killing is therefore evil.

Of course, here I am with my vow to kill her.

I don’t think you really know where bad ends and evil begins. What makes you qualified to be judge and executioner?

That last part hits home. I’ve thought the same.

I stand behind her, making encouraging sounds and let her ramble, laying out these thoughts, making me reconsider everything I’ve chosen to do.

Then she tilts her head backward and looks up at me, curious and innocent and beautiful.

“Yes?” I tug on her hair. “Go on.”

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