After Frau Todesfall left, no one came to check on her the whole rest of the day, not even to bring a meal. Maybe they had forgotten about her. On one hand, it meant she could avoid the king and whatever schemes he had planned for her. One the other, it meant she would starve.

She clenched her fists and let out a growl of frustration.

Something scratching against the wall outside caught her attention. She made her way to the barred window, pressing her face to the wall to see the side of the tower. She could just make out a masculine silhouette pressed against the stone. It was too dark to see him clearly, and he was wearing a hat that threw his face in shadow.

"How are you standing there?"

"Not easily. There's a small ledge."

"Who are you?"

"That's none of your concern."

"Why are you up here, anyway?"

The bit of him that she could see shrugged. "I wanted to be. Also, an old friend of mine by the name of Todesfall recommended you as a potential client."

"Why?"

His grin flashed in the moonlight, not seeming particularly friendly. "You're in quite the predicament, aren't you?" he said. "Spin gold for the king now, and you'll be spinning for the rest of your life."

"I don't spin straw into gold."

"Then you must rely on His Majesty's mercy when he finds that your father lied."

"The king has mercy?"

"No, he doesn't." The voice was grim.

Emalyne shuddered. "What can I do?"

He paused for a moment before saying, "It is a difficult situation."

"I already know that! Did you climb all the way up here just to tell me I'm in trouble?"

He laughed. "That would be a foolish thing to do. I came to make a deal."

The room filled with the subtle scent of pine and woodsmoke as he slipped through the bars easily, seeming almost serpent-like as he landed with both feet on the floor. He was wearing a mixture of dark browns and grays, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, breeches frayed on the edges, and a pair of rather ugly striped stockings and short boots that did nothing for the rest of his outfit. His flame red hair was tied back in a short ponytail and tucked under a dark brown, wide brimmed hat with a red feather tucked into the band. His eyes were an unnaturally bright yellow-green color, and his teeth looked a little too pointed.

"You're a fey." She glared at him.

Taking it as a compliment, he bowed, sweeping his wide brimmed hat off of his head. "At your service, Miss. And if you want to get technical, I am only half Fey, on my father's side, but that is irrelevant. Now I'm just rambling to fill the void."

"I don't trust fey."

"Very smart of you, but you don't seem to have much choice." He was right. If she wanted to get out of this, she needed help.

"What do you want?" She asked.

"We can discuss the terms later," he studied his nails, which were only a few inches shorter than his fingers themselves.

She heard enough stories to know that bargaining with a Fey was usually a bad idea, and almost always held some sort of trick. "Absolutely not. We're discussing terms now."

He laughed again, a low, throaty chuckle that sounded almost like a growl. "That's what I like to hear, Miller's Daughter. Very smart of you. So? What do you have to offer me?"

Not much. She turned the question back on him to buy time."What are you offering?"

"What do you want?" He shot back with a smile, his eyes sparking. Evidently, he was in his element, and was enjoying every second of it. She ignored the fact that his pupils had shrank to slits, and his canine teeth seemed to be getting pointier, if that was possible.

Emalyne considered his question. What did she want? It was important that she worded it correctly. "I'm assuming you can spin straw into gold, so correct me if I'm wrong,"

"You're correct. That is one of my... specialties."

"I want you to teach me how to do it."

"Do what? Spin straw into gold?"

"Yes."

"You need magic for that, and you, my dear, have not an inch. Not a bone in your body is one of magic."

"So give me some, and then teach me."

"Ah, ah. A reasonable desire, but it doesn't work like that. I can't grant two separate wishes unless you're prepared to make two separate deals."

"What if they're related?"

"Still considered two separate deals." He shrugged, looked at her for a moment, then sighed, although it came out sounding more like a hiss. "I suppose I can bypass the rules just this once. Give me your hand."

"What do you want in return?"

"I will require something from you each night we meet, and I will not name those things in advance. If you find any of my requests unreasonable, you may refuse me and end our contract. Do we have a deal?"

"Those are horrible terms. How do I know you won't ask for something exorbitant?"

"Oh, you don't. That's what makes it an excellent bargain for me. Go ahead. Turn me down if you like. I'm sure you can find someone else to help you."

He grinned toothily again. Emalyne gritted her teeth. "I think I'm going to regret this."

"Quite possibly." The fey held out his hand, gold rings glittering on his fingers.

Emalyne reached out and took it. His skin was cold to the touch, and it burned, but not like fire. She gasped, feeling a peculiar warmth spread through her fingers and his grin told her that he'd known all along that that would happen. He spread his fingers so their palms pressed together. He intertwined his fingers with hers, and squeezed her hand. The warm sensation increased to an itch, spreading down her arm. Her veins glowed golden for a moment before fading.

"I have to go before the guards begin their next patrol," he said. "You have the magic now, but I'm afraid you'll have to figure out how to work it on your own."

"But I haven't given you anything in return."

"Haven't you?" He pulled his hand away and twirled his fingers in the moonlight. Where there were once gold rings, the bands now glinted silver in the moonlight. "Thank you for your dealings, Miller's Daughter." Then he slid through the bars on the window and disappeared.