Careful What You Wish For (29/3) - Jaezred

Gifts have always delighted Imryll, even though early on in their relationship she liked to act that anything Jaezred bought for her fell below her royal standards. She puts on no pretence now, openly enjoying the flowers, chocolates, and floral-themed jewellery he has gotten for her this time. But an uneasiness hides in Jaezred’s smile as he watches her try on her new earrings.

“Dearest, I…” he says eventually. “I have done something very foolish. Oziah… She took us to see a sphinx in the mountains to get her scorpion armour un-cursed. We made a deal with the sphinx and…and I gave her three strands of my hair and three truths about myself, and I knew she would use it for scrying.

“The sphinx sells information in exchange for years of the querent’s life, and she would sell to just about anyone. Oziah gave ten years of her own life so the asking price for information about any of us would be one hundred higher than usual. It was a good deal, and the others — Delilah, Pentaghast, and Oziah — gave their hair and truths as well, but…I’m still not sure I’m comfortable with it. My regret is not for myself, but for having dragged you into it by association with me.”

“Well… I’d say it was foolish to give that up but it sounds like you know that already. And well, if it was for the delightful Oziah then I can hardly blame you,” says Imryll. “So what were the truths you told?”

“Just about myself, I did not mention you at all.”

“Okay, but I’m still curious!”

“That sphinx has methods of bypassing anti-divination magic,” he says, weaving around the question. “I’m just…” He sighs heavily, gazing at her with regret in his eyes. “I’m scared that I’ve left you open to danger, as well as…any children we may have together.”

Imryll smiles sweetly at him and kisses him. “Jaezred, you know all too well my methods and practices… I’m only so successful because I make myself known. Another hairy beast trying to spy on me is not something I am concerned about.”

Jaezred nods slowly, and he senses the tension in his shoulders finally start to ease up, a feeling of relief washing over him. “Alright… If you’re sure.”

He picks up the box from Paradise Frost and feeds the chocolates to her one by one as he tells her another story. “Oh yes, we also met a trio of githyanki in the sphinx’s lair, by the way, seeking the location of one ‘Coll Bartender’. Made their young red dragon pay the price — it was aged eight hundred years and died.”

“Seems like a waste of a dragon, really,” she remarks in between chocolate treats. “But isn’t Coll the man who lives in the dollhouse that you adventurers like to play in?”

“Yes. He’s the proprietor of Fort Ettin. The sphinx pointed at us behind them in the queue and said we should be able to help. I think I fooled them into thinking that ‘Coll Bartender’ isn't on the Material Plane, but the sphinx saying that led to them following us into the Astral Sea, where we un-cursed Oziah’s armour… Stupidity. All but one of them ended up slain. Well, the sphinx apologised for her mistake and sent me this.” He reaches into the pocket of his frock coat, discarded on the chair next to the sofa, and procures a deck of black-and-white tarot cards.




“They actually gave you something?” Imryll asks, genuinely surprised. She thumbs through the cards appreciatively, admiring the sleek design. “Most sphinxes I’ve heard of are supremely arrogant and wouldn’t consider doing something like that.”

“She was a strange one. Might be useful in the future, though. Her divination is truly potent. And as elves, we can afford to give away a few years of our lives.”

“True, more so than the shorter-lived races. Still, you may come to miss those years one day… These are very nice, though. Are you thinking of taking up a new profession? We have a few tarot readers around the court who might give you some competition, though. I hear they can be quite protective about their craft,” she says half-jokingly as she hands the deck back to him.

“No, because then I’d have to pick some silly fortune teller name. I can already cast commune and divination anyhow. But…would you like a reading?”

“Yes, but only if you introduce yourself with a suitably ‘silly fortune teller name’ first.”

Jaezred grins. He casts prestidigitation to draw a fake handlebar moustache above his lip and stands up. “Behold, Jaezredino the Magnifico!” he declares, an array of colourful sparks flying off his hands. A very delighted Imryll squeals and claps.

He arranges the tarot cards on the cushion of the sofa and performs a reading for her in a bombastic voice and accent. “I see in your future…a flabby figure, a face full of wrinkles, and milk of the poppy addiction!”

“Yes, I know my partner will fall to such lows, but what about me, Jaezredino!?”

He tosses a card off the sofa with each prediction. “Your lucky number is 69! You should quit your job and start scrubbing chamber pots for a living!” She sticks her tongue out at him. “Never wear green on each second day of the tenday!”

“Oh dear… Perhaps it would be safer to just wear nothing, then? So many of my clothes are green.”

“Jaezredino says yes, absolutely, and you should follow his sage advice! Rrright now!”

“But only if he joins me!” She laughs and wrestles him to the floor in a passionate kiss, the remaining cards in his hand spilling away, pausing breathlessly only to pull his waistcoat over his head and rip his shirt open.

As she fumbles with his belt, she suddenly pulls away to look at him. “Keep the moustache on…”

Jaezred shrugs and resumes kissing her.

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Co-written with the wonderful Anthony.