119

Your heart sinks when you see the owner is an elf. If he had been human or a bit of both like most of his staff you might have stood a chance. But everyone knows elves have near perfect memory.

You don’t back down however, and soon exchange pleasantries with the elf, who is indeed the owner. It strikes you he is paying a lot of attention to you, a complete stranger. He mostly looks you in the eye, but you feel like he’s also taking stock of your other assets. Is he attracted to you? A little emboldened in your cunning plan, you bring up the name Lisandra, saying this person had advised you to seek lodgings here. To your surprise, the elf furrows his brow, and scratches his chin: he remembers the name, but not quite who it belongs to. The way he looks at you now, and the way he looks while thinking leaves little doubt: he is attracted to you. He’s torn between the problem of letting a half-forgotten name vouch for you, a complete stranger, and the problem of letting a fine piece of human crumpet slip through his grasp. You can’t believe your luck, especially with an elf, of all people. How the legends have fallen.

Speaking slowly as if to himself, to make sure he understands what he is saying, the elf tells you all his rooms are booked, but that he could find you a quiet spot somewhere round the back. You accept immediately while the idea is still fresh in his mind, not giving him the chance to think it through. You give him your best smile as a bonus, and it seems to seal the deal. He calls to one of his serving girls to show you to your lodgings. You’re to stay a night free of charge, on the condition you find work by tomorrow and start paying for rent as soon as you have shrapnel to spare. Turn to 101.