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Chapter 6

  — Я не уверена насчет точного роста, я плохо разбираюсь в цифрах. Примерно… — Айви огляделась, взглянула на старую дверь, затем быстро встала и подошла к ней босиком, остановившись рядом, чтобы показать свой полный рост. — Примерно вот так. И я никогда не видела гномов, но слышала, что они примерно размером с человеческих детей… лет десяти, может быть, чуть старше.

  The peasant walked back, stepping quietly over the stone floor, and stopped almost in the same place. It wasn’t hard to find — there wasn’t much dust left there anymore.

  — Ass? I’m afraid it’s about the same, just darker, haha. And the chest too. Smaller than yours, though. Humans are generally built a bit smaller. — Ivy smirked, sitting back down and pulling off her shirt, remaining only in a corset laced in the front. It supported and hid her chest but didn’t squeeze her waist. Comfortable. Not like noble ladies, who probably couldn’t even breathe in theirs. — Something like that. Do you always wear dresses? Comfortable? I’ve never really worn anything like that. Hard to ride horses in and easy to tear. Just… not my thing.

  — Yeah, mostly dresses. Elven women love light dresses! Corsets? We don’t wear that stuff. What the fuck are they even for? Dresses are awesome clothes! Especially one like mine. Nothing squeezes anywhere. Everything’s loose, light, and just fucking perfect.

  Yanael adjusted her dress slightly after all the rolling around. She thought for a moment, then smiled slyly and shifted a little closer to Ivy — quick enough that her chest bounced with the movement.

  — Do you like elves, little red mouse? — she asked with real excitement, as if ready to present twenty candidates right here and now. — Come on, admit it.

  — I like only one elf. And recently, one elven woman too. — Ivy smirked, trying not to dwell on the recent quarrel. She grabbed her shirt and threw it back on, but didn’t bother fastening it. — Otherwise, all elves just tell me to fuck off. Wait… why red? I’m dark, haha!

  The dark-skinned girl laughed, lying back and staring up at the empty ceiling with her dark eyes. Her hands rested just below her chest, briefly brushing the exposed skin as if wiping away dirt.

  The elf’s eyes widened in surprise. She smiled sincerely and crawled even closer, like some kind of worm.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  — You like an elf? You’re in love with him? Admit it, you are! Dreaming about him day and night, right? And where is he? Handsome? Sexy? Maybe he’ll drop by here, huh? Don’t be quiet, sneaky little rat! Waiting is the one thing I hate most in the world. And who’s that elven woman? Maybe you’ve got a love triangle?

  Yanael looked like she was reading a fascinating book or watching a real drama, eager to know every detail. Her hyperactive body looked ready to burst from anticipation, and to keep that from happening, the blonde kept shifting from elbow to elbow.

  — He’s wonderful. In character, manners, looks, and motives. Everything! But with you… everything’s complicated. Or maybe I’m just making it complicated as hell. Stubborn as fuck. Just this morning everything was great: he let me stay at his place, sleep next to him, even bought food for me twice. But I’m not the kind who likes living off someone else. There was a boy once I had to sleep with, and he provided for everything, but this is different. Since then I decided I’d rather work my ass off myself than depend on anyone — it’s easier that way. Anyway, I tried to find work today, but everywhere they kicked me out. Only one guy told me there was a brothel here — said go there if you’re brave. I told him, and of course he didn’t like it. We argued. First he left, then I left too. That’s why I ended up here. — Ivy explained, trying not to sound like she was complaining. More like she was just telling it, accepting her own mistakes.

  Her full lips pressed together slightly, like a child about to start sulking.

  — And the elven woman is you. You’re basically the only elven woman I know. A good one, too. As for the guy… I don’t even know what to do. I owe him. Once he saved me from dying, then a few more times after that. He spent his own money on me, so I decided I’d pay it back. That’s why I’m working now. Not much of a cheerful story for you, huh? Kind of gloomy. Maybe you’ve got some advice? I don’t want to leave him. I really like him. This is going to sound dramatic, but he’s the only one I’ve liked since I lost the child. — To soften her own words, the dark-skinned girl rolled her eyes and theatrically pressed a palm to her forehead.

  — Pff. Giving advice isn’t my thing, beat-up little jerboa. So I’ll just say it straight, like I fucking think. Look — you don’t owe anyone shit. If someone doesn’t like something, tell them to fuck off! Hell, the fact you told him anything at all means he should be praying to you! He left? Then fuck off, goat! No offense to goats, but still — my ass is burning just thinking about it! Maybe my advice doesn’t suit you, lively little mole. I lost my ability to love. But I’m not stupid! So I don’t complain — it’s better this way. Life’s fun! Just crazy desires and entertainments, fleeting emotions.

  Yanael moved even closer to the peasant. Her full chest ended up right near the girl’s face. Her expression instantly changed — deliberately elven, serious.

  — And if you like me, stubborn little chinchilla, we can always distract ourselves from this dull world, stripped of real passion.

  Her voice changed, sounding low and velvety. Iran did something similar, but the elf did it a hundred times better. Next to her, the forester seemed like just an ordinary boy. Yanael burned with inexhaustible energy. It felt like she could run around the whole city all night and not get tired.

  — Why would a little chick like you need some shitty brothel when I’m right here?

  You could read her desire to pour out all that energy, though she respected boundaries and didn’t force anything. She only worked with sweet words. Then she calmly leaned back onto her back, resting her hands on her stomach.

  — You can call me a whore if you want. I’m just someone who wants to live life to the fullest and tries not to deny herself anything. What happens tomorrow?

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