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“I know this sorceress, she’s strong with summons,” Yuval said. “She has a weakness for blond men, she’ll let me inside.”
Amath grimaced, not liking the plan one bit. He leaned back against the headboard. “Why do you have to go?”
It was only the tenth time he asked it. It was only the tenth time Yuval answered it. “Because I’m blond and a man.”
“Why can’t I go?” he grumbled.
“You know she’ll see right through the illusion,” Yuval said, stroking his lover’s ear gently. They didn’t need to be joined for him to feel the demon’s worry... not the jealousy that came out at him in waves.
Amath growled, pulling away from the gesture. “I don’t like it. She could hurt you.” Likely he was thinking she could do other things, too. “Just ask her to see the books.”
“You know I can’t,” Yuval pulled away, reached to redress in his fanciest clothes. “Sorceress like her, or rather, wizards in general: they don’t share the type of books we seek. If I let her know why I’m there, she will be on her guard and everything will be harder than it needs to.”
Amath crossed his arms over his chest and looked away.
Yuval smiled softly and leaned to kiss his ear, making him shudder. “I’ll be back by nightfall. Don’t get in troubles, alright?”
“Likewise,” Amath drawled.
***
Yuval had chosen the inn purposefully far from the sorceress’ whereabouts and home, and close to the exit of the city, so they could escape at once without delay.
It wasn’t hard to find the woman; he’d done his homework and knew that at this time of the day she was usually found in the market, spending her money left and right... making sure his powers were cloaked, he approached her from behind just as she paid for an expensive emerald necklace.
“Beautiful,” Yuval commented.
The sorceress turned her head to glance at him, her brown curls bouncing. Her green gaze looked him up and down, but she seemed to approve of his fancy clothes that hinted at someone of certain wealth, for she deemed speak to him after all.
“Isn’t it?” She smiled, holding up the necklace a bit higher for him to behold.
“I was speaking about the lady, of course,” Yuval said suavely, smiling his best, charming smile. He found her far from, to tell the truth. The red on her lips was too bright, the kohl on her eyes too thick, it was clear to him part of her beauty came from a spell. He wasn’t fooled, but he pretended to be. “But of course, the gems have their merit too. They can only enhance your natural beauty.”
The sorceress chuckled. “You’re quite the sweet talker, aren’t you, lord...?”
“Adhren Leblon,” he introduced himself. “May I?” he motioned to the necklace.
She hesitated, but held it out to him. He took it with care and, as she pulled her curls out of the way, he slipped the necklace carefully on her, clasping it closed.
“As I expected, beautiful. I would consider myself honored to learn the lady’s name.”
She smiled again and held out her hand. “Sabel Mattis.”
“Lady Mattis,” Yuval bowed low as he took her hand, kissing it politely. “Could I perhaps tempt my luck and request to escort you? The market can be such a dangerous place for a lady like you... ”
She chuckled again, taken by his manners and his looks, even if she likely got talked to like this on a daily basis.
“You may, sir Leblon.”
Yuval escorted her down the market for as long as she wanted to, making small chat, simply trying to get her to open up a bit more to him. Her interest was obvious, but he still had to play his cards right. When the sky started darkening, and evening came, he invited her to dinner, faking delight when she agreed. Along with the meal he asked for her favorite bottle of wine, claiming innocently that it was his own favorite, and had she ever tried it? He made sure to pour her a little too much, drank little himself. She was big on drinking, so it wasn’t hard to get her to drink more than she should have. Tipsy, soon outright drunk, she invited him to her home. Yuval agreed.
The house was the fanciest of the block, and of course, the biggest. Yuval helped her inside, let her yell at the maids to bring them more refreshments. More wine. He sat with her, talked, praised, poured more wine. On the last cup, while Sabel was busy talking about herself, he dropped a small bit of powder, something to make sure she would sleep deeper.
He encouraged for another drink.
She laughed and took the cup, resting a hand on his thigh. Too high for comfort on his thigh. “If I didn’t know better, my lord, I’d say you’re trying to get me drunk.”
Yuval smiled another charming smile and took her hand in his. “I would never dare, my lady.”
She smiled and drank again. “You would not happen to be thinking of putting your hands on me, would you, sir?”
“Me, my lady? May they cut my hands if I try,” he half-joked, but she laughed again.
“You’re a bad liar,” she said, leaning to him, bosom in plain sight. “I know you want to... touch me.” She nodded off a bit, the powder starting to work. “Go on then, I’ll give you... permission... ”she mumbled, and promptly dropped asleep on his lap.
Yuval let out a long breath, and carefully pushed her away, muttering annoyance at how long this had taken. But being invited to the sorceress house would mean he had to mind a lot less protection spells and traps than if he’d just broken in while she was away. Quietly, he sneaked out of the living area and tried to avoid the maids as he checked room by room, until he came across her study. Using his magic he tracked the precise location of the spell that blocked the entrance to her vault, and once there it was easy to locate the tomes he needed, and sneak away with them.
He reached a grumpy Amath just past midnight, his demon waiting with the horses at the ready.
“You took too long.” Amath complained.
“Well, I’m sorry she couldn’t invite me over sooner.” He grumbled, putting the books on their saddle bags.
Amath approached him quietly, sniffing him. “You smell like her,” he accused childishly.
“Her perfume does carry, and I did have to hold her up until we reached her place.”
Amath growled some.
Yuval turned to him and raised a brow. He sighed and reached up to caress that ear again. “You know I did nothing with her. I stuck to the plan.”
This time the demon leaned to the touch.
“Are you sulking?” Yuval smiled in amusement, and leaned up to kiss his lips. “You have nothing to be jealous of, Amath.”
Amath grumbled a bit under his breath, but finally pulled away so they could mount up.
***
The following morning, the sorceress woke up with a hangover, only to find her vault raided and her guest gone. She threw open the windows of her study and called out a curse to the heavens, and to Adhren Leblon.
Already far on their way back home, Yuval doubled over on his horse and groaned, feeling suddenly horribly sick.
Amath glanced his way in worry. “What is it?”
“Ooooohhh don’t be so loud... ” he whispered.
Amath frowned and grabbed the reins of his lover’s horse, stopping them both. “I’m not being loud... ”
“Ohhh the sun is too bright... ” Yuval complained. “What is that smell? Ah- I feel sick... ”
“... Are you hung over...?”
Yuval could only groan again.
And that was how Yuval spent his week: cursed with a strong hangover. Amath snorted and took care of him, but still complained about him getting off lightly. For all their troubles, the books they’d stolen from Sabel turned out to be useless anyway.
