Faithe walked into the tavern, trying to ignore the annoyed look of the bartender. She raised a hand in the air. “I know. I got the message. I’m here to get her.” It was too late, Charitye was already on the hunt and when she was on the hunt, she would not be denied. She stalked across the floor toward the kitchen door, tail twitching. Waiting. When the time was right, she pounced . . . and killed a huge dead catfish. Cooks screamed profanities at her and threw pans.
Charitye came trotting proudly out of the kitchen with her kill and lay down on the floor, tearing into it, sending fish scales and bits of fish flying into the air like confetti.
Faithe padded into the kitchen to pay for the fish. She was met with familiar glares, mutterings, and threats. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying to get her to stop hunting in your kitchen.”
With the mess of fish confetti cleaned up as best she could and kitchen staff simmered down to an acceptable level, Faithe sat down at a table near where the cat was still enjoying her meal to the disgust of some of the patrons who had moved away from her. Charitye nosed a bit of raw toward Faithe’s foot. “Oh, no, I’m good. I couldn’t eat a bite, but thank you. When you finish eating, we need to talk.”
Charitye finished, licked her whiskers, and cocked her very feral head at Faithe.
“I know you miss Tal, but we need to think about moving along, girl. You are becoming almost completely feral.”
A toothy grin flashed at her.
“Don’t play coy with me. We need to talk.”
Charitye shimmered and turned into an elf in dark leathers. She had long silver hair, loose and unbound. Fair complexion, almost peach-colored, fine features and quite beautiful. Not at all what a person might expect given her actions of just a few moments ago. “What do we need to talk about?”
Faithe fiddled with her drink and looked around the tavern. There was the usual assortment of people you’d find in Dalaran, but not as many as before. Blood elves, humans, elves, gnomes, always gnomes. “I want you to come to my home and bathe.”
There was the expected nose wrinkling. Charitye slunk down into her chair in an exaggerated sulk. “Why? Do I smell? I bathe in the streams.”
“No worse than normal, but I want to introduce you to a young man or two. I have the tub out in my courtyard now because it’s so nice out. It’s pretty with all the flowers blooming. You’ll enjoy it. I have some lovely dresses picked out for you. We’ll pick some flowers to put in your hair. It’s time, Charitye. Even if you don’t want to find a mate, a nice young man for companionship would be good for you. You know how happy you were with Tal. He’s gone, but you could be happy again.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“You will be. Come along.”
Faithe didn’t keep many servants, there weren’t many needed for a smaller household, but there were always a few, plus her old housekeeper. Most were orphans who were old enough to want a job, but not really old enough to be out on their own yet. Faithe did her best to find something they were interested in and find training for that. Usually, the ones who gravitated toward her were interested in perfumes, herbs, healing, plants. A gnome walked by muttering to himself about some calculation gone wrong. That could mean anything. Hopefully, not another explosion somewhere. Two of them took out her garden wall last week with an experiment. That was still being rebuilt. Had she been the suspicious sort and not seen the sooty gnome flying through the air screaming, she would have thought she was under attack and had been breached.
What scent would be best for Charitye? Something light and woodsy. Maybe the new blend she was working on with rose geranium, vetiver, and wood moss. She had cut it with a pale vanilla vodka making it fairly light.
Or maybe just wisteria. She liked that. She’d let Charitye nose through the blends and see what she liked. She had bath oils, lotions, powders, and colognes in all the scents. If Abon hadn’t sabotaged her stores again. That little hellion.
It’s too bad the Horde and Alliance were at peace. She’d have AAMS make a special delivery to the Horde of one small, opinionated gnome, but it would probably spark a small war. Small wars could be put out pretty quickly, couldn’t they? It might be worth it. She’d have to think about it. Horde had goblins. Surely, they could deal with a gnome. Yes, definitely worth thinking about.
But business before pleasure. Find Charitye a friend.
Sissy was waiting to open the door even before she could get her keys out. It was like the girl had radar. “Afternoon, Miss Faithe.”
“Afternoon, Sissy. Just Faithe. No need to call me Miss Faithe.”
The girl sketched a curtsey. “Yes’m, Miss Faithe.”
Faithe sighed heavily. “Could you have a bath drawn for Charitye, please.”
“In the courtyard?”
“Yes.”
“Right away.” Quick as thought she was gone, thrilled to have a job, then poked her head around the corner. “What scent?”
“Nothing yet, I’m taking Charitye to the stillroom now.”
“Yes’m.”
Charitye protested at first and then got lost in the testing and not surprisingly, picked out the new blend with the wood moss. “I thought you might like that. It’s feminine, but a bit woodsy.”
Even with all the whining about baths, Charitye luxuriated in the water until it had gone cold as ice and reluctantly crawled out, wrapping herself in one of the large fluffy towels. “Come, let me put some pomade on the ends of your hair and get it brushed out,” Faithe said.
"If you put me in a dress, how will people tell us apart?’ Charitye said with a twinkle in her eye.
“Hmm, yes, because we are just like identical twins except the whole you’re an elf and I’m a human thing.”
“True, but we both have silver hair.”
“There is that.” Faithe had been born with silver hair. It was possibly one of the things that had saved her when her caravan had been destroyed by a Horde raiding party. The orc hunter who found her thought it was some kind of sign and took her home to his grieving wife who had lost a child. She’d been very happy with them for eight years until a clan chief forced them to give her up before it caused problems with humans if she was seen with them. She still slipped away every now and then to check on the old folks and make sure they were all right.
“Now,” Faithe directed Charitye’s attention to the wall where three gowns were hanging. “I bought you an elegant dress, a mooncloth robe, and a runecloth robe. I think you will look stunning in all of them, but let’s try them on.”
She adjusted the laces on the corsets of two of them, pulling them in a little snugger about the waist. The runecloth robe fit perfectly.
“What do you think? Which one did you like best?”
“I love them all, really. Which one do you like?”
“You look gorgeous in all, but the elegant dress is breathtaking. It matches your skin tone perfectly and looks like you are clad in lace. It’s a striking effect.”
“I agree. I like that.”
“All right. The elegant dress it is. Now, here’s the plan. We’re going to go back to the Legerdemain. I’m going to leave you there for a little bit while I go finish some business. You will try to be pleasant. If someone talks to you, just visit, please. No need to flee or pull a dagger if someone offers to buy you a drink and for the sake of all that is holy, do not go feral and hunt.”
"How long will you be gone?
“Not long and the man I want to introduce you to will be along later. I just don’t want you getting that dress mussed while I prowl through gardens and I already made this appointment.”
Charitye nodded nervously. “All right. I can do that. Just be pleasant. No daggers.”
“Right.”
Faithe sat down with her at the tavern and ordered a white wine for both of them. The dress had exactly the effect she knew it would have. Several men watched, openly appreciative. Sed was going to be knocked out and she was sure Charitye would like him. He was a wonderful young hunter, or young as elves go. Very handsome. Unfailingly sweet and had that certain something women loved. Now, if just this woman would love it.
“All right, Charitye. I’ll be back in a bit. Remember what I told you.”
“Yes, Mother.” She rolled her eyes.