— Good carpets cost a lot, but still cheaper than laying the whole floor with boards. And there’s not much point in that anyway. Soft carpets keep warmth, but they’re a bitch to clean, so it’s better to lay a few large ordinary ones, even with pile — and the darker, the better. — Ivy reasoned, running her gaze over the floor several times. Noting the length of the room, she gave a small nod to herself.

  Several further thoughts flickered through her mind. She remembered many sellers packed materials in sacks when bought in bulk. Those could be used. Squatting down, the peasant touched the cold stone but barely winced. It was even warmer than many roads or forest grounds. She blew on her hand afterward, shaking off the dust.

  — But during repairs the mess here will be huge, so buying carpets right away isn’t an option. If you don’t want to sleep on the floor, the best choice is a mattress. I’ll manage with the material sacks — they can be sewn together and stuffed with sawdust, makes a decent bed. Plus, the waste gets used.

  — Fine, then that’s what we’ll do. You seem to know your stuff. So we’ll do it your way. And now...

  The elf jumped down to the floor, apparently intending to slide seductively onto her side, but instead smacked her arm and let out a loud yelp. She rubbed her elbow, then stretched out on the floor. For about a minute she carefully arranged herself into a flirtatious pose, lying on her side. Propping her head up, she looked at Ivy, blowing stray strands of hair off her face.

  — Now tell me, little one. Who dumped you? Who beat you? Who fucked you and who didn’t? I love gossip, — Yanael said passionately, winking at Ivy as if trying to flirt with her.

  The peasant let out a muffled snort of laughter when the woman fell and hit her elbow, but then just blinked, watching her lie down. Thoughtfully, she sat nearby, pulled off her boots, and left them beside her. Surprisingly, her feet didn’t smell too bad — the dark-skinned girl had always been lucky that way. Crossing her legs, she braced her palms against the cold floor. The elf’s behavior contrasted sharply with Iran’s, and that felt unusual. She liked that elves could be completely different from each other. Hearing Yanael’s questions, she pursed her full lips thoughtfully.

  — My father beat me. Always. From as far back as I remember. My mother died giving birth to me, so I can’t say anything about her. Don’t even know what she was like... Oh, and why they named me Ivy. Because I screamed, and in that screaming my father thought he heard that name. So Ivy I became. And he hated me too, since Mom died having me. — She started thoughtfully, with a crooked smirk. — Fucking... yeah, I did have someone. A boy. Obsessed with elves. Always reading about you, studying, telling stories. Physically he was useless — I was always dragging him out of fights. But in bed... Yeah, he was alright. Dead too, though. Bandits killed him while I was out of the city. Oh, right — we lived in the city first, me and my father. He dealt in smuggling, money was good, but we had to hide, so we fled to some village... Anyway, about that boy. His name was Vince. A bore, but he worked his tongue well — in every sense. Shame he died. That day I got beaten up because some idiot decided to pick on me, saying Vince was my bastard or whatever. I punched him in the face, and then they beat the hell out of me. Turns out I was pregnant then. Well... The child turned to mush. My father came and was happy I’d never have kids again. So I left. Just got tired of it.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Ivy fell silent for a few moments, then lay right down on the floor, propping her chin on her palms. Her dark fingers drummed briefly against her cheeks.

  — Since then I don’t stay in one place long. Here and there. Once I saved a girl from some man — she ran off, and the next day someone left me a sack of food where I’d slept. Think she was the daughter of someone important, but noble folk are proud, don’t like talking to commoners. Then... I met this blind old man, he taught me how to steal. Shitty thing, I know, but no one would hire me

  anywhere, I was about sixteen. Said I was too small — though when it came to hauling shell barrels, suddenly I wasn’t. — The peasant shrugged lightly, tilting her head. Chestnut strands shifted, their tips brushing the dusty floor. — In a fishing village there was a boy who sheltered me for a while. Good guy — didn’t even touch me. I wondered why, then I understood when I saw him sleeping with another man. Sooo... Yeah. Something like that. I’ve got tons of stories, really. But I’d like to hear yours too.

  — Ha! You’ve got quite the life! Plot! Variety! That’s my kind of thing. Elves usually have nothing to tell. Fuck. All whiners and idiots. “My mom hit me,” “My wife left me,” “I don’t have money to live.”

  Yanael said this in exaggerated voices, mocking such problems, gesturing like a bad actress in a dramatic theater.

  — It’s fucking ridiculous. How long can they keep whining? Whine. Whine. Whine. Makes your head hurt. Go punch your wife, or your husband, or whoever. What’s that got to do with us! And then they’ll suffer over that one tiny problem their whole life. Shameful!

  The elf threw her head back and growled in irritation, like a teenage girl fed up with her nagging mother. She growled for a long time. Very long. When the air in her lungs ran out, she paused to breathe deeply — and then started growling again, rolling her eyes and collapsing onto her back, with no intention of stopping.

  Ivy smiled involuntarily, watching the woman. A moment ago she’d seemed almost motherly, and now like a little child. And Ivy liked it. The peasant didn’t interrupt, letting her vent, then suddenly dropped onto her chest herself, resting her chin on her hands and growled back — sharp and brief, as if obeying some inner impulse — then chuckled at her own reaction.

  Sometimes in the forest, in bursts of anger, she would tear up grass and shout at wild animals. Once a young red wolf stumbled onto her by accident and got so startled it started howling as if it had seen its pack leader. But that had been in the forest, far from random passersby. The elf clearly wasn’t bothered by other people’s presence.

  Yanael laughed, whether at Ivy’s reaction or her own behavior. The elf lay on the floor as if exhausted, breathing heavily, staring at the old ceiling.

  — How tall are you? — she asked. — Ever seen dwarves? Are they even smaller? How can they be smaller! I don’t believe in dwarves. How can someone be that tiny and still have a beard! Though I’d totally…

  The blonde licked her lips predatorily, paused for a second, then continued with renewed energy.

  — Do you have the same ass as me? And the same pussy? I heard somewhere that niana women are built completely different. Maybe human bitches are too? What do you say, dirty little hedgehog?

  The elf rolled onto her stomach, bracing both hands on the floor and resting her chin above them. Her gray eyes burned with curiosity.