The story of the Elf Queen

* * *

The noise from the first floor, where the dining room of the tavern was, almost did not penetrate the upper floor of the courtyard. It would have been possible to avoid it altogether, for there was plenty of money for amulets or wall enchantments. But life experience told him it was better not to do that. Otherwise, you might not hear something important. For example, the attack of competitors or partners, the difference between which was sometimes not obvious. There were three exits in the spacious office, furnished with quite good furniture. The main one leads to the corridor. To the roof, through a hatch in the ceiling. And to the next room, where the master bedroom was located, from where it was possible to go directly down the narrow shaft of a small elevator directly into the basement. Or rather, to a separate part of it, from which there were also two exits. To the cellar of the neighboring building and the sewage channels.

Fortunately, Brand hadn't had to use them for escape for quite some time. Now the unofficial owner of the Drunken Siren, and at the same time the unofficial Night Father of the Midtown Sea District, was sitting at a wide and massive table, lit by a good magic lamp. The table could easily be overturned if necessary, and the thick and enchanted tabletop could withstand a direct hit from a couple of medium-to-large power battle amulets. As Brand's experience had suggested, it was enough. Again, to Nightfather's delight, it had been a long time since the table had last taken a blow. Now there were several full and a couple of empty purses, three piles of coins, divided into silver, copper, and a few gold ones, and a very accurate scale, made by dwarves. Separate, neat stacks of the already sorted coins stood.

To the left of Brand, a couple of silver dishes were laid out with food, mostly small crispy fish fried in oil. Next to the dishes stood a large jug and a large mug of cold beer. To the right of Brand, at the edge of the table, on a stack of extra cushions, sat a stubby and already completely gray-haired half-grown man with a large bald spot and a wrinkled face. In front of him lay a thick ledger, where he made entries in impeccable handwriting, carefully dipping his quill into the inkwell. Both, the ledger and the ink, by the way, were not simple, but custom-made so the entries were almost impossible to correct or amend. It's very useful when it comes to money. At the side of the halfling, there was also a silver dish with fried fish in oil, a bottle of good wine, and an elegant glass of expensive dwarven glass of light green color.

"There are forty-three silver coins from Khrop's gang this month. A third of them cut on the edges. One hundred and eighty-six coppers. Half of them cut. Total, including last month's debt... Seven full silver coins and fifty copper coins are missing."

After popping a couple of fish in his mouth and taking a swig of beer, Brand wiped his mouth with his sleeve and hissed:

"How's the bastard making excuses this time?"

"As usual. That he had few good men, and the newcomers from the fry of the Lower Town were of little use. Half of them have been caught by the city guard and sent to his lordship's workhouses. Or to monastery orphanages, under the care of holy men."

"Make a note to tell Khrop I don't care about his rotten excuses. He's better off spanking his little rats. And if they don't want to or can't work, he can throw them back into their cesspool. There's a dozen of them for every one of them! But just in case, tell Norrie to check his word on the city guard. If that cocksucker Dereng is violating our agreement, it's got to be dealt with."

"Gotcha."

"Who's next?"

Having sent one fish by its tail into his mouth with his fingertips, the halfling took a small sip of wine, carefully wiped his hands and lips with a white handkerchief, and then said:

"From Fin and his wenches this month ninety-eight coins in silver. Twenty-six of them cut. Three hundred and sixty-two in copper, of which ninety-seven were cut. Total, including last month's close... The debt is thirty full coins in silver and one hundred and forty in copper."

"What the fuck is so much?!"

Blinking at his superior's indignant growl, the halfling pulled up one of the scrolls and read grimly.

"Two new girls, bought only two months ago in the Lower Town, were ruined by a couple of sailor clients. They got drunk and beat them so badly that they almost gave their souls to the gods. They're recovering now, but they won't be able to work properly for two weeks. Fin says he's even splurged on a proper healer for them. The two made more money last month than half the other girls combined. They had pretty faces and nice figures."

"Fucking dragon cock up their asses! Have those sea cocksuckers been dealt with?"

"The same day they tickled all three of them with feathers and sent them to Dantra for a swim. But there was nothing to take from them, and the captain of their boat could not be talked to, for he had just left Morgrave the next day."

"Bitch guts!"

Squinting maliciously, Brand hissed:

"Write down which ship and the name of this sea rat. Next time he sails into our neighborhood, you'll have to ask him. If his bastards break my property, let them pay for it. How much did those two whores make last month?"

"Ummm... Fin didn't write it... I'll figure it out now...."

"Check it out. And the next time this piece of shit comes to visit, have the guys explain to him how much money I lost because of his motherfuckers. He's gonna pay for every day of downtime. And for the treatment of both whores!"

"This ship flies the flag of the Karkhold trading house. They have a representative office in Morgrave."

Brand's angry look became a little more cheerful, and a satisfied grin appeared on his face:

"All right! Let the boys talk to them. Send the talker first, see if we can get the peddlers to agree peacefully."

"Absolutely."

Sending another handful of fried fish into his wide mouth, Brand chewed the crunchy treat with pleasure and drank it with a couple of large gulps of beer.

"Oh, what have we got there... What's next... What the... what the... fuuu...."

At first, everything went blurry in front of his eyes, the office went into a tailspin, and then darkness fell. Brand collapsed onto the table, nearly knocking over his beer mug. Next to him, the halfling collapsed to the floor with a pile of pillows. A few moments later, the door to the neighboring room, which was slightly ajar opened fully, and a tall dark elf dressed as a Dungeon Hunter entered the office.

As he approached the table Luaval's aristocratic face beneath the hooded mask was contemptuous. What nonsense he had to deal with. He took a drawstring bag made of a thin but very thick cloth from his belt and quickly dumped all the coins on the table and the ledger into it. After that, he looked around the office, using his magical vision, enhanced by a special amulet. Nothing. The stash of money, a couple of good amulets, and a pile of papers and scrolls were in the criminal mastermind's bedroom, in a niche in the wall hidden behind a closet. Luaval had already opened it and left it wide open. He'd had to use the most common lock picks and discharging amulets so as not to disturb the signaling threads. It took him ten minutes to open a cache he could have opened in thirty heartbeats. But he had to make it look like the work of a savvy but still local thief.

Looking at the unconscious ringleader and his aide, Luaval realized that the simple but reliable poison, which could be found in Morgrave if you knew who to look for, would kill them soon enough. The hidden alarm amulets would trigger, and their bodies would be discovered by a panicked guard. Satisfied with the result, the dark elf removed a bunch of keys from Nightfather's belt, including the amulet he needed. Deactivating the signal web on the hatch leading to the roof, Luaval deftly made his way outside, activating the cloaking amulets at the same time. There was still a whole night ahead.

* * *

Inside the large warehouse on the banks of the Dantra River, closer to the River Gate of Morgrave was crowded despite the deep night. In the center, from the river gate to the street gate of the warehouse, was an open space surrounded by stacks of barrels up to the ceiling. There, across from each other, two groups of people were gathered. And not just people. In one group there were a couple of half-breeds of humans and dwarves, and in the other, there was one pure-blooded orc who towered over the others by a good head. And a couple of black-as-soot humans from the far south. They were not much smaller than their green-skinned counterparts, though they were not quite as tall as their green-skinned counterparts. All were armed, and they looked at their opponents with undisguised suspicion. Though, they kept their blades in their sheaths. For now. There was a man on either side of the front, and there was a heated and lively argument between them.

"Two hundred thalers in silver for a bunch of Lower Town minors?! That's too much! To make them marketable, these wretches must be fattened for a month. No less. That's fifty silver!"

"Yeah, sure, you'll feed them something other than cheap slop for half a dime!"

"They'll die like flies from the slop, I don't need dead kids, I can't sell them! A hundred!"

"What the fuck? I'm not selling you babies, they're all over a decade old. And if they haven't died yet, they're worth at least 30 coins each! So I gave you a tenth off!

"Ten for a healthy one, five for a runt."

"Fifteen each!"

"Eleven."

"Fourteen and, so be it, we'll wash them and change them into clean shirts."

"Deal. Damn you!"

Both shook hands with equally disgruntled faces. Then they continued:

"What else you got?"

"A dozen sailors who've had too much to drink and have fallen behind their ships. All with experience, not the first year at sea."

"Sailors? Or drinker sailors?"

"Is there a difference?"

"You should know! Fifty for a healthy one, 20 for a runt. If he turns out to be a really good sailor, I'll throw in another ten."

"You gotta be kidding me! A good sailor is worth at least a hundred!"

"A good one wouldn't be drinking in the pub where your men work, and he wouldn't end up in your cellar. Sixty and twenty-five, that's it."

"Eighty and fifty."

"Seventy and thirty. But only after inspection and verification."

"Of course. Deal."

After shaking hands again with the same disgruntled faces, the two continued bargaining again:

"There are a dozen and a half villagers who came to the city on business or in search of work. They're all different, but there are a couple of big beaters I was thinking of keeping, but on friendship, I'll give them to you for a hundred and fifty. Each one."

"No, you really... What the?!"

The scream of one of the negotiators was drowned out by a chorus of other screams that began when all the magical lights suddenly went out at once and the warehouse was plunged into darkness. Almost immediately, the frightened screams were joined by cries of pain, frantic roars, and shrieks:

"Ambush!!!"

People panicked, grabbing for weapons and amulets, but the latter, to the surprise of their owners, didn't work. The illuminating ones flashed on and off for a brief moment, adding to the confusion. The clear or night vision ones only illuminated vague silhouettes, simultaneously causing their eyes to water. The combat ones exploded upon activation, killing or maiming those who attempted to use them and increasing the panic. And for some reason, no one was responding to the alarms. Some rushed for the exit, but instead crashed into barrels, or tripped over the bodies of fallen comrades or trading partners. Only a couple of them managed by some miracle or other to run to the opposite exits and open the doors, shrieking about the trap. And they did it almost simultaneously.

As soon as the doors were opened the alarm amulets that had been silent until then went off. Those who had remained to cover their comrades outside realized that the meeting had gone down the well-known path. With loud swearing, grabbing weapons and battle amulets, whoever had them, two dozen more humans and a couple of non-humans rushed into the warehouse from both sides. It became clear that the sneaky bastard partners who had lured them into a treacherous trap had used some magic suppressor, which made all the amulets stop working almost immediately, and it was impossible to see anything. In the darkness of the warehouse, a desperate massacre began, accompanied by shouting and cursing. But almost immediately it was replaced by screams and shrieks. The fire burned the eyes and nostrils of the fighters, cramping their lungs and throats. Those who were alive and still able to move hurried to the exit, trying to get away from the room where the enemies had used the poisonous alchemy well known among the underworld. Away from the warehouse, for they could already hear the shouts and stomping of the alerted city guards and private guards of the neighboring warehouse owners.

At the same time, a dark elf was walking slowly and silently along the roofs of the warehouses. He had a shoulder bag behind his back, where silver taken from dead slave traders was piled, and a bloody weapon in his hands. Wiping a good blade, forged by the masters of a guild of armorers known throughout the Confederacy of Free Cities, Luaval mentally grimaced. By human standards, it was a good blade. By the standards of the dark elves, it was mediocre at best, and would only be suitable for the warrior slaves of the lesser races. And it wasn't just the material. No elegance, no deadly and predatory beauty, no proverbial feeling that the blade was an extension of your hand. Just the utmost simplicity and reliability. But using native elven blades wouldn't make much sense. The chance of someone recognizing an elven weapon from the marks is, of course, minimal. But a professional doesn't leave even chance. So one had to use a human weapon. Tucking the blade into its scabbard, Luaval turned toward the Upper City. There was one last target left. It wasn't too far to get to.

* * *

The stone mansion, built on the north bank of the Dantra River, faced the river on one side and the inner street of the Upper Town on the other. It was already late at night, and most of the mansion's occupants were safely asleep. Including the owner's eldest son. It wasn't hard for Luaval to get in, especially since he didn't need to use the simple tools of the local thieves. However, the defense was quite on the level of the Upper City. Alarm strings on the windows and doors, armed guards, a pack of watchdogs in the courtyard, all bred and trained by an expert trainer. Most likely, even a real Master of Beasts.

It was good that they were on the ground, in the small patio, and not on the roof, through the window on which Luaval had entered. After passing the attic, he found himself on the top floor, where the master bedrooms were. After listening and ensuring all the occupants were asleep, the dark elf silently made his way to the door, passing a pair of very skillful and almost indistinguishable signaling threads. Also, an enchanted painting, with a portrait of one of the ancestors of the mansion's owners, whose eyes were linked by enchantment to a special mirror and a memorizing crystal. A very expensive but very useful thing. It is even possible not all the inhabitants of the mansion knew of its true purpose.

After a few seconds of work with the necessary amulets and lockpicks, a quiet click, and Luaval entered the bedroom of the mansion owner's son and heir. After closing the door, the dark elf carefully approached the wide double bed, taking care not to step on the things scattered on the floor. On the crumpled sheets, two men lay snuggled together. A large, well-fed young man with a noticeable potbelly, thick dark hair, and a neat, dapper beard. A pretty human girl with red hair, a scattering of freckles, and a slender figure lay at his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Judging by the things scattered on the floor, she was one of the maids. Taking a small vial from his belt pocket, Luaval carefully dribbled a drop of its contents onto the faces of the sleeping men. The liquid evaporated almost instantly, and the two lovebirds relaxed again, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Great, now he can finish this case. First, the dark elf took a small amulet from his pocket into which an empty vial was inserted. Bringing it to the neck of the sleeping heir, he pressed it to the carotid artery and activated it. Man twitched, but did not wake up, and the vial quickly filled with blood. Carefully putting it back away, the dark elf dripped a few drops of the healing potion on the man's neck to remove the slightest trace of it. After which he pulled out another amulet, more... specific. Grimacing at what was about to happen, Luaval brought the amulet, which looked like a thin metal rod with a round tip, to the sleeping man's groin and pressed it forcefully into the base of his penis, causing an almost instant erection, followed immediately by ejaculation. A powerful jet of semen shot upward, but instead of sloshing around the sleeping men or, Darkness eternal, Luaval, it all hung in the air and gathered into a lump. Which he deftly caught in a specially enchanted empty vial.

That was the end of his work here. Carefully tucking his trophies into one of his belt pockets, the dark elf turned the sleeping maid over onto her back before leaving. She was really pretty. Tits are a bit small, but not everyone is naturally gifted or has the ability to use the appropriate alchemy. Even one of her kin might well have taken her as a sex toy. Like a breeding slave, though. Running his palm along the sleeping girl's body, Luaval, as was his tradition, squeezed a small firm breast and twisted a nipple. This caused her to moan softly even through her sleep. After fondling her some more, as compensation for not the most pleasant job the dark elf left the mansion. The night was drawing to an end.

* * *

Dawn was just dawning over the horizon. The Morgrave was slowly waking up. And certain kinds of establishments began to close. Like the Vicious Rose. As the last customers left the establishment, its tired employees went to sleep in their rooms. As did their unspoken owner. Lady Anrieta's quarters, as she demanded to be called, were on the top floor, where very few of the female employees were allowed to go. And that only with her permission. There were several reasons for this. Most of them had long ears and had no desire to advertise their presence in the city in any way. Then again, personal security for a quadroon could not be unnecessary by definition, given her primary profession.

She yawned sleepily as she closed the door behind her and began to undress. She threw all her clothes on the chair next to the closet and threw on a robe made of expensive red fabric that was pleasant to the touch. Without buttoning it, she sat on a small chair in front of the dressing table and took out a jar of very expensive cream, made by real elven masters.

"A good choice for skin."

Jumping to her feet, Anrieta jumped aside, threw off her robe, tossed the cream aside, and grabbed a thin stiletto knife secured under the table in a special sheath. And froze. There was no one at the door where the voice had come from.

"Not bad. Not bad at all."

She turned around, ready for a fight, exhaled, cursed, and returned to the dressing table. In the other corner of her room, on a wide sofa upholstered in soft fabric, a dark elf sitting with his leg over his leg, staring unceremoniously at the mistress of the Vicious Rose. Two bags lay on the floor beside him. Removing the stiletto, Anrieta picked up the robe and the cream, which, fortunately, she had not had time to open, and the jar was safely enchanted.

"Do you enjoy scaring people like that?"

"Yeah. Especially when it comes to beautiful women."

Without reacting to the words of the dark elf who continued to stare at her, Anrieta put on her robe. But she did not button it, but sat back on the chair facing her guest, put her slender leg over her leg, and folded her arms on her bare breasts. Luaval said, appreciating her seductively provocative pose:

"Tonight, unknown assailants managed to break into the Drunken Siren, poisoning and robbing Brand. His halfling friend died with him."

"Well, that's sad news. I'm very sorry to hear that."

The quadroon's words did not fit with the satisfied smile on her beautiful face, with delicate elven features, which she skillfully emphasized with expensive makeup.

"In that case, the following news will upset you even more. There was a stabbing at the Ferrakh merchant's warehouse today. It seems the Catcher's gang had a falling out with their old partners. As a result, it turned into a massacre in which Catcher himself and most of his associates were killed."

Hearing these words, Anrieta theatrically and widely opened her gray eyes and covered her mouth with her hand:

"Such a horror, to think what a dangerous place I have to live and work in."

"You have no idea. Check the right-hand drawer of your dressing table."

Arching her eyebrows, Anrieta turned sideways and followed the dark elf's advice. The drawer of the dressing table where she kept some of her "special" cosmetics was open, though she had locked it. Shooting her eyes in the direction of the dark elf who continued to watch her uninterrupted, she examined its contents. Nothing was missing. But there were two new small vials, one with a dark red liquid and the other with something thick and whitish. Closing the box back up, the Quadroon turned to Luaval and spoke:

"Well, now I'm just horrified. To think that someone had sneaked into my chambers, opened the place where I keep some of my womanly secrets, and left me such beautiful gifts. If I had been younger, I would have thought I had a secret admirer."

With a smirk, the dark elf uttered:

"And here I thought one of your girls was going to have an admirer, probably a not-so-secret one."

Anrieta smiled coquettishly in response:

"No, despite the name, the Vicious Rose is a very decent establishment, and I'm very careful about its reputation. How could you think we'd be practicing such a despicable hex on rich clients?"

"Really, I can't imagine why I would even think of that."

Nodding at the sacks, Luaval continued:

"That's Brand's money and his papers. That's Catcher's money."

Now the quadroon's eyebrows flew upward in genuine amazement:

"Really? You're giving it to me?"

"I don't need the money. I honored your request. And I really hope you don't let me down."

It was said in a perfectly calm voice, but when the dark elf rose to his feet in one fluid motion. The quadroon shuddered involuntarily. But she pulled herself together and nodded:

You can rest assured, I will do whatever you ask. In the best possible way!

"I'll wait. Two days."

With those words, the dark elf headed for the exit. Anrieta got to her feet when she realized it.

"Wait! Are you leaving already?"

Stopping halfway, Luaval turned to her.

"I did my job. Or do you need anything else?"

"No, not at all!" the quadroon hastily blurted out, "I'm... I'm... I'm just curious. I've never met anyone like you before. I mean, dark elves."

"And you should be glad you did. Believe me, you wouldn't enjoy being with most of my kin."

"I believe you. I've heard a lot of stories about them, especially from my mother. Some pretty scary stories. Which is why I was so surprised to see you last night. As far as I know, dark and light elves don't get along too well. I was much more surprised this morning, though. My heart sank into my heels. I never expected you to sneak into my room without anyone knowing. Still, I didn't skimp on the protection."

Luaval scrutinizing the facial expressions, intonations, and gestures of the Quadroon woman who spoke, chuckled faintly.

"If you have something to say, you can say it directly. Twilight doesn't know I'm already here. And I fooled the monitoring amulets in your room. All six of them."

At those words, Anrieta visibly flinched and tensed.

"Six? Damn, I only knew about four...."

"You're wasting my time. So you have something to say?"

"I think we have a lot to talk about. And I have something to offer you. Shall we?"

After a few seconds of silence, Luaval shrugged.

"Let's talk."

The dark elf sat back on the couch and looked at the quadroon carefully. She sat down on the chair in front of the dressing table again, but now she said with a solemn expression:

"I knew you were coming. And Twilight had instructed me in advance to try to sleep with you. He offered me several behavioral options. And he gave me some fancy love alchemy to smear on my loins. After coitus, it was supposed to make you calm and talkative, and I was supposed to question you gently about various things."

"Who would've thought it? Is that why you keep showing me your tits and slit?"

With a chuckle, the quadroon leaned back in her chair, opened her robe fully, and spread her long, shapely legs wide, showing herself quite shamelessly. And there was a lot to show. Slender body, narrow waist, and large breasts of size four with dark cherry nipples. On a completely hairless pubic area was tattooed by a skillful master in the form of a red rose.

"Like you don't like what you see? Seriously, I don't mind the first part of his assignment. I don't like the second part. I don't like it anymore after the way you so easily entered my chambers."

"And why did you decide to tell me all this?"

"You don't answer to Twilight, do you? So you're not one of the Secret Forest Guard, are you?"

"Girl, you ask dangerous questions. Didn't your mother ever tell you that with much knowledge comes many sorrows? Including those that can easily lead to the grave."

Luaval's expression didn't change, nor did his voice, but the quadroon paled slightly. She held her face together, though.

"Believe me, I know that. Otherwise, I wouldn't be who I am today. I also know not to put all my eggs in one basket. For now, Twilight needs me. But who's to say it'll always be that way? Or that times won't change? So I'm offering you a mutually beneficial partnership. I can be of use to you, and you can be of use to me. Sure, I'm bound by a loyalty oath to Twilight, but we can be useful to each other without breaking it. What do you say?"

The dark elf continued to stare at the naked quadroon for a few seconds. He rose to his feet smoothly, and the next moment the room was in darkness as all the lights went out. Anrieta let out a startled shriek as she felt herself being yanked from her seat by her arm and spun around, causing her to lose her bearings. A desperate attempt at a struggle was foiled violently and skillfully. A few moments later, the lights came back on, and the frightened quadroon found herself sitting on the edge of the couch, with her hands behind her back, tied with a thin silk rope. Behind her, spreading her legs, sat the dark elf, holding Anrieta by the throat with his left hand and cradling her to him. With his right hand, he leisurely began to explore the quadroon woman's body, starting with her right breast. Bringing his lips close to Anrieta's pointed ear, Luaval spoke in a calm voice:

"Now listen to me very carefully, girl. Silently. You will speak only when I say so. Serving two masters at once is a very dangerous venture. Certainly not for you. I've known Twilight for a long time. He'll figure out your game in no time, you're not on the level for this. Then he'll find a new brothel-mom for your Vicious Rose. But they won't find you. Or they'll find you, but not in the best shape. That's up to him. So if you want to stay alive, don't even think about trying to go behind the back of an agent of the Secret Forest Guard. Understood?"

"Yes," the quadroon whispered, licking her lips nervously.

Luaval moved his palm to her left breast, squeezed it a few times, twisted the hardened nipple a couple of times, and then moved his palm lower. Anrieta, trembling, immediately spread her legs, allowing the dark elf to penetrate her with two fingers.

"Smart girl. Where's the alchemy Twilight gave you?"

"It's in the drawer of my bedside table."

"A black bottle? With a wax-sealed cap?"

"How... Yes!"

"Hm..."

They sat in silence for a minute or so. Luaval worked his fingers between the quadroon's spread legs nonchalantly. She was visibly aroused, her lips tightly pressed together, flushed, and breathing heavily. Then, the dark elf took out a hand, gloved in dark leather smeared in the woman's juices, and brought it close to her face. He scrutinized her for a few seconds, then cast a purification spell and said:

"Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

The quadroon obeyed the order without complaint, and Luaval began to explore her mouth and lips with his fingers. At one point, Henrieta, apparently playing along, put her lips around them and began to suck on them. The dark elf withdrew his salivating hand and released her throat.

"Stand up."

She rose gracefully to her feet, despite her bound hands behind her back. Luaval took her by the elbow and led her to a bed of clean white linens. Gently pushing her belly forward, the dark elf began to undress. Turning around, Anrieta asked:

"Do all dark elves have such interesting foreplay, or is it just you?"

"Did I give you permission to speak?"

Quadroon fell silent and averted her eyes, and Luaval grinned crookedly:

"Just kidding, girl. It was a test."

With those words, Luaval showed her a pair of scanning-type amulet rings hidden beneath his glove.

"What?"

"I don't fuck unfamiliar women without checking them out. Especially if they're familiar with bewitching alchemy and work for an agent of the Secret Forest Guard. Then again, I should have ensured you weren't moonlighting in your establishment."

"What?!"

"Didn't you say you're okay with the first part of the assignment?"

When Luaval had undressed completely, he turned the still-bound quadroon over onto her back and spread her legs with a jerk. She eagerly moved her hips playfully to meet him. The dark elf leaned down on top of her and said:

"Tell Twilight you tried to do his bidding. But you only got the first part."

With those words, Luaval entered the ready Anrieta, kissing her lips demandingly and penetrating her mouth at the same time. The Quadroon eagerly responded to the caress and wrapped her legs tightly around his back, moving her hips in time with the dark elf's movements. She is a skillful girl with elven blood. Without breaking the kiss, Luaval ran his hands along her body and squeezed her breasts with force, pinching her nipples with his fingers. There was no shame in having her as his slave. Even for him. Though, Mother wouldn't be too approving of such a choice anyway. A half-breed was fine, but a quadroon in favor of elven blood was better. Ideally, a light pureblood.

As always, when he thought of his beloved mother, Luaval felt his blood boil. He broke the kiss and sped up his movements, squeezing and stroking her breasts even more vigorously, causing Anrieta to moan in pleasure. After a few minutes, she arched under him with a loud moan, pressing her legs into him, and the dark elf poured into her. Exhaling, he collapsed on top of her again and buried a kiss on her lips. He lay like that for almost a minute, enjoying her skillful tongue, the warmth of her body, and the scent of her skin mixed with the smell of sweat. Then he pulled away and lifted himself a little:

"Roll over."

Breathing heavily, Henrieta rolled over onto her stomach.

"Would you untie me?"

"Before I go. I like to control my partner."

Making sure the knots were still in place, Luaval squeezed her buttocks with both hands and gave her a couple of spanks. She was really good. Excellent by human standards. Pushing down, the dark elf gently entered her from behind. Sliding his left hand under her and squeezing her breasts, Luaval buried his right hand in her hair, then began to move his hips, quickening his pace. When he felt his release approaching, he jerked to his knees in a sudden jerk, pulling the shrieking Anrieta down with him. Kneeling, Luaval's lips dug into the woman's slender neck, leaving a hickey. He clutched her breasts with one hand and slid the other between the quadroon woman's legs, finding and pressing the pea of her clitoris with two fingers. With a loud cry, she arched her back, pressing her shoulders against Luaval's, and finished, showering the sheets with her love juices. A moment later, her scream was interrupted by another demanding kiss. For almost a minute they stood like that, recovering their breath. At the same time, Luaval did not stop titillating the quadroon's breasts, albeit noticeably more affectionately. He let her go, jumped down from the crumpled bed, and began to dress quickly, but without haste.

After he had cleaned himself up, Luaval walked over to the bed, where Anrieta lay sweating and disheveled. He pulled a disposable amulet from his belt pocket and tossed it onto the sheets. The small transparent crystal burst into flame and burned completely, leaving no trace of itself. Everything Luaval had left on the sheets and in the quadroon disappeared with it. She squinted for a moment, then made a sad face:

"Oh, I thought you wouldn't remember."

Grinning, Luaval untied her bonds in one motion:

"Not this time, girl."

But then the dark elf's face became serious, and he looked at the disheveled quadroon whose slender body was glistening with sweat and flushed from his caresses.

"Remember what I told you, girl. It would be a shame to let such beauty go to waste."

With those words, he activated the cloak and left Anrieta's room, leaving her to recover and sleep it off.

* * *

In a small windowless room, lit by a pair of magical lamps, an elf with short dark hair, piercing gray eyes, and the same gray clothes of a Secret Guard agent sat at a table. Various scrolls and papers in different handwritings were spread out on the table in front of him, and an enchanted communication mirror stood on the edge. Suddenly, all the lights went out. Just for a single moment. In that instant, a lot changed in the room. When the lights flashed again, the elf stood in the middle of the office in a fighting stance. In his right, he held an elven combat knife, the blade almost touching the dark elf's throat. In his left, he held a powerful last-moment battle amulet, designed to cut short the lives of his closest enemies, if only at the cost of his own. In his hands, the dark elf held two blades that had blades that clamped the light elf's throat into scissors.

A moment passed. A second. The two elves looked into each other's eyes with stone faces. Then the light one spoke:

"One-on-one."

"One-on-one."

Whereupon both elves simultaneously put away their weapons and sat at the table.

"Luaval."

"Darendil."

Taking a black vial from his pocket, the dark elf set it on the table.

"Well, what is that?"

Darendil, better known by his nickname Twilight, said nonchalantly:

"It's just water."

"I know. That's not what I'm asking."

Leaning back in his chair, the Secret Guard agent said with a chuckle:

"I decided to pay you back for your help with that operation in the Underworld."

"In this way?"

"Did you have a problem with Anriette? Or would you rather I put her under you on command? It's so tawdry and tasteless."

For a few seconds, the elves looked into each other's eyes, then simultaneously grinned:

"Okay, I'll admit, that was pretty good. The girl's really good, so I'll take that as a repayment. I fixed her brain a bit, too."

"She tried to make a deal, didn't she?"

"Yeah, she wanted to be on the safe side in case you didn't need it."

"It was expected, given her character."

"Except I highly doubt you're gonna leave her. Doesn't she know you're her grandfather?"

"You noticed, though."

"It wasn't hard if you knew where and how to look."

"Of course not, she doesn't know. If Anrieta knew, her whims and demands would be doubled. At the very least. And they're not small either."

"As far as I've been able to estimate, she justifies them. At least, most of it does."

"That's why I'm fulfilling them for now. By the way, one of her whims, which she has so far voiced only in half hints, is the desire to conceive a child from a Firstborn."

"Such an unusual and surprising desire. In my experience, it occurs in eight out of ten human women."

"In my personal experience, nine out of ten do."

The two elves were silent for a second, then quietly snickered. The dark one grinned and said:

"I'll think about it. But later."

Darendil and Luaval immediately became serious:

"Did you learn anything new overnight about our other connoisseurs of elven beauty?"

"Something."

* * *

The unforeseen problems of the agent of the elf queen.