“Very well,” the fae, Ethlandom, declared in a tone of intense frustration. “You are correct, Onas. We are not forbidden to meet people. However, I will permit no meddling with the town and its inhabitants. A simple meeting to sate your curiosity is all you will have.”

  “Of course, of course,” Onas said carelessly. If his lying were any more blatant, it might eventually loop back into truth. “Though I must say I am impressed! To think you could develop a new healing potion out here.”

  “I can hardly take all the credit. The ingredients we discovered were so potent and useful, it didn’t take much work,” I demurred, trying to remove focus from myself while simultaneously making the town seem more appealing. Any location with potent ingredients within easy reach was valuable.

  From the brief flash of greed on the elf’s face, I had succeeded. Now I could only hope I hadn’t succeeded a bit too much. I wanted him to be impressed by Swiftband, but not motivated enough to get any fancy ideas of his own.

  If representatives of a noble family showed up and tried to settle in our town, eager to exploit our resources for their own selfish ends, heads would roll.

  “I see!” Onas’ eyes glinted. “Yet is it not a feat to create even the most basic potion from scratch?”

  “For once, I must agree,” the fae cut in, giving me a genuine smile. “Do not discount your effort. You have made life out here much safer for all who call Swiftband home.”

  I returned that smile easily and sincerely. “Thank you for the kind words. Truly. I am simply doing my best.”

  “Your best, yes, as limited as you are out here. I have no doubt you’ve little access to proper equipment and —”

  “Onas!”

  The elf grimaced and glared at his fellow. “Oh, you cannot deny this! What sort of lab can he possibly have out here? What about the implements of his craft?” Returning his sneer’s focus to me, he demanded, “Do you even have a proper cauldron?”

  “Fortunately, I have several.” I was managing to keep a smile on my face, but it was starting to get a little strained. “They might not be particularly advanced, but I do well enough with them.”

  “We have done our best to accommodate any requests Thorn might make of us,” Hyel cut in, even if he looked distinctly uncomfortable doing so.

  “Ha!” That was all the acknowledgment the elf gave to the elder before turning again to me. “Wherever did you acquire alchemical cauldrons?”

  “Well, they came from my inheritance.”

  I was treading close to topics I would rather avoid, but it was an annoyingly direct question. And my response was technically the truth. I would have inherited a great deal when my parents either retired or died.

  “Inheritance, you say?” The elf perked up like a bloodhound catching the scent of prey properly for the first time. “I should have known someone as talented as you would come from proper stock. Have I heard of your family, by any chance?”

  Even the fae focused in on me at that, probably on account of our ‘shared heritage.’ I was not surprised. Common fae tended to share far more camaraderie than their full-blooded relatives, even though descending from entirely different Courts. It was almost amusing.

  “I am afraid not,” I replied. “I have some Summer blood singing in my veins. I am not from these parts, or from anywhere near Snowdrop. I simply could not resist the urge to come here after hearing about the success of your settlement drive.”

  “Naturally. We have had startling success so far.”

  Some of the elf’s enthusiasm had visibly waned. Not all of it, not nearly, but he didn’t look like he was on the edge of his seat anymore.

  The fae was the exact opposite.

  “We do not have a lot of Summer descendants here,” Ethlandom mused, his eyes trailing up and down my frame a few times. “Most do not care for the weather. And I must say, I am impressed by the purity of your bloodline.”

  My smile stiffened slightly. I had changed my hair, turning its natural vibrant red to black, and I had altered my green eyes to a rather unflattering shade of yellow. But there was nothing I could do about my skin. It was undeniably rosy: not quite red or pink, but approaching those colors.

  Though more associated with the Autumn Court, however, this skin color wasn’t wholly unusual for the Summer Court. Especially with all the intermarriages between the two. Summer craved the lingering life and heat of Autumn, as well as the bounty typically associated with our Season, just like Winter tried to cling greedily onto Spring.

  Except Winter and Spring had a far less amicable relationship than Summer and Autumn. Winter didn’t woo, coax, or cajole. Winter took. There was a good reason it was the most infamous of the Courts.

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  “Thank you,” I forced myself to reply.

  Ethlandom clearly noticed the awkwardness of my response, judging by the faltering of his smile, but he made no further comment.

  “Yes, yes, his bloodline is impressive,” Onas deadpanned, sounding completely insincere. In fact, now that he knew I wasn’t from an established family, I noted a vague disdain in his tone.

  I also detected a hint of dislike which he was managing to hide rather well. That wasn’t surprising, at least. Nor was it aimed at me in particular.

  I didn’t like drawing on stereotypes. I really didn’t. But so far, Onas had lived up to every single one I knew about elves. I didn’t feel bad about taking a generalization like ‘all elves dislike the fae’ and applying it to his attitude.

  After all, the claim was rooted in historical truth.

  The elven race had been born of nature. Or rather, of a particularly arrogant tree with serious delusions of grandeur. Truly, why would a piece of greenery think it deserved the appellation of ‘The World Tree’?

  This rather egotistical plant had passed down its arrogance to its children, the elves. Accordingly, elves saw themselves as the purest expression of nature and its most beloved descendants.

  So, the fact that elves were essentially fae, but lesser by every possible measurement, grated constantly against elven pride.

  Elves’ ability to tap into nature and pull on its power? Fae could do that and more. Their ‘immortality’, which was actually just a very long lifespan? We were truly immortal, and would never wane unless we chose to or were slain. Their magical prowess? We were literally magic incarnate. Their vaunted beauty? No one could deny that a Noble Fae in their full splendor was more enchanting than any elf. Even common fae, with their ‘diluted’ nature, were extremely attractive by the standards of every existing race.

  And that was without mentioning the glamour all fae could employ if they were so inclined. I was trained to use it for stealth and infiltration, but I could also pull on the power simply to meddle with someone’s mind. Not that I ever would! I personally found the idea distasteful.

  So did many members of my Court, though for different reasons. Most fae disdained glamor as a ‘crutch’ they didn’t need. They believed they were perfect as they were, and lesser races should venerate them for it.

  Funny how pride, of all things, was stopping most of my so-called ‘kin’ from misusing their abilities.

  “What I would like to know,” Onas suddenly continued, leaning towards me, “is how you did it! Whatever did you discover out here that enabled you to create such a potent healing potion so quickly?”

  “Onas!” Ethlandom practically shouted. “You know as well as I that inquiring about the recipes of an alchemist is forbidden. They are considered as protected family secrets!”

  “And you don’t want to know about the key ingredient of the potion?” Onas countered. “You heard him. It is his own claim that the substance was potent enough to base an entire potion around easily.”

  At this, a sheepish expression stole over the fae’s face. And for good reason. Pressing me on the subject would be the peak of rudeness… but they were the royal surveyors. They were here to assess Swiftband’s ‘value’ for the rest of the kingdom. He was obviously interested in the topic.

  I decided to speak up before Ethlandom was forced to press me and complicate things for us both. We could both keep up a veneer of courtesy, and I could use the goodwill on the town’s behalf.

  “The main ingredient is the flower of a moss-like plant. I’ve looked into it a little since discovering it, and it is wholly unique as a result of the local environment. The plants are in a symbiotic relationship with the local colonies of mana-mutated bees, of all things. The bees can be rather dangerous to anyone who approaches them carelessly. I am afraid you’ll find it impossible to grow these flowers anywhere else.”

  This wasn’t strictly true. A Noble Fae, particularly of the Spring and Autumn Courts, could keep the plants alive in any location. So could powerful druids.

  Unfortunately for the royal surveyors, I knew the Snowdrop kingdom wasn’t on the best of terms with the former, and I doubted they had any of the latter. Druids were impossibly rare at the best of times, seeing as most of them chose the deep wilds as their home.

  “I am sorry to hear that. Such a potent plant would be invaluable for our Alchemist Guild to experiment with,” the fae mused, stroking his chin. “Ah! I forgot to ask. What have you decided to name your brand of potions?”

  The question staggered me. I had never actually thought about naming my creations. Even the ‘honey ginger supplements’ were more a descriptor than a title. Most people in town referred to them as simply ‘the candies.’

  Inspiration struck quickly, though.

  “Swift Mercy. I’d like to call my potions Swift Mercy, in honor of our growing town,” I declared, earning myself looks of approval from the elders. From the corner of my eye, I spied a smile on Alys’ face.

  The fae also smiled brightly at me, but the elf seemed to be fighting the urge to scoff.

  “And I can look into preserving the flowers and the plants in full, so we could start shipping some out soon enough,” I offered. This would be no trouble. I could ensure the plants were damaged just enough to destroy any chance of replanting them, while maintaining their value as ingredients.

  The fae’s smile brightened further. “That would be splendid! I am sure the Snowdrop Alchemist Guild would be thrilled to receive these ingredients. Am I right to assume these bees you mentioned are also responsible for the town’s honey supply? I admit, we had learned a bit about them already. We planned to take a closer look through the documents we were given during our travels to find out more.”

  Between his forthcoming attitude and all he was doing to get in the way of the elf, I was genuinely starting to like Ethlandom. Now, if only he would only stop bringing up the Alchemist Guild with all the subtlety of a drunk Noble Fae trying to flirt…

  I was not going to join any guilds. They could be wonderful for artisans who were just starting out, especially those not backed by generations of family knowledge in their craft, but they also tended to demand more in return than the knowledge they taught was worth.

  Nonetheless, I kept a smile on my face as I replied to the fae’s question. “You are quite correct. The honey inherits some of the flowers’ healing properties without any of their toxic properties. The bees themselves actually absorb the toxins, making their stings far more dangerous. Have you tried any of the honey yet? I have some with me at all times, along with some of my healing products.”

  “We simply haven’t had time! But I wouldn’t say no to some now,” the fae declared happily.

  I nodded, my smile only deepening in response to the elf’s scowl at getting sidelined.