CW: Self-harm

Queen Vilotta liked to wander marketplaces in disguise.

Her servants acted as if this was something scandalous or inappropriate, but Vilotta knew better. This was excessively common among nobles and royals, both for fairies and humans. There were simply too many wonderful and fascinating sights to be seen and she couldn’t imagine how anyone could expect her to resist it.

She would slip out of her castle through a door she had made, one no one else knew about, and adjust her glamour to become a goblin, tiny and green and unassuming. Then she would make her way through the forest or the caves or even out into the human world, wherever the market happened to be on a particular night. She would slip into the crowds and wander.

There were fairies of all types to be found. Elves were usually the most common. Existing between the two worlds in the way they do made them perfect merchants. Goblins were common, too, of course. But there were everything from gnomes and brownies to leshies and selkies. Pixies would zip through the air, looking for people they could dazzle with their dancing. Spriggans would stalk the aisles, searching for those who weren’t watching their possessions carefully enough. A dullahan or a troll might be seen standing guard at some of the wealthier merchants’ stands.

Of course, it wasn’t the fairies that interested Vilotta. She could see other fairies anytime she wanted. It was the others who visited the market. Demons with their long horns and fiery claws. Vampires gliding along in tight groups. Orcs trying and failing to befriend or challenge trolls. Once, she had even seen an alraune. And of course there were humans. It was the humans Vilotta loved most of all. Sometimes they were there as customers, other times they were there as wares. Sometimes they had wandered in by accident. But they were always fascinating. Whether it was rows of charmed humans standing docile as they were sold as food or pets, wide-eyed wanderers foolishly accepting gifts, or wizened visitors who knew how to avoid tricks and glamours, humans always interested Vilotta. There was something about their helpless cuteness that drew her in.

On this particular night, the market was in the human world, in a forest near a village. Vilotta wasn’t sure what country the village was in, but it hardly mattered. Vilotta loved when the market was held in the human world because it meant human visitors were more likely. And tonight did not disappoint. They were everywhere. Being tricked into buying leprechaun gold and trading away their names for baubles. Everywhere Vilotta looked, there were adorable humans clumsily selling themselves into servitude and pledging their hearts and souls to fairies charming them with glamours.

One particular human caught Vilotta’s eye, a crying woman pleading with a dryad to help her child. The woman was dressed in red and white, marking her as a priestess of the goddess Sanguis. A priestess was very unusual in the market.

Vilotta crept up to the woman and said, “A dryad can’t help much with sickness or injury.”

The woman, surprised, looked down at Vilotta with eyes wide. “Then who can?” she asked desperately.

“Someone I know, perhaps,” said Vilotta. “But first you must tell me what troubles you.”

Between sobs, the woman, whose name was Doris, told Vilotta about her daughter. It seemed that her daughter’s behavior had become stranger and stranger in recent days until tonight, when her daughter had done something terrible and was now lying at home, critically injured and awaiting help.

Vilotta asked why Doris did not heal her daughter herself and Doris explained that the girl had committed an act of blasphemy against Sanguis and that Sanguis would not allow her to be healed. There were no priests or priestesses of other gods in the village; however, Doris had learned that the market was being held tonight and that anything could be bought there. So she had traveled there to seek something that could heal her daughter.

At that moment, Vilotta decided to reveal herself to Doris. She adjusted her glamour into its usual configuration, and appeared before Doris in her full royal glory. The human woman was stunned into silence and stood there staring at Vilotta, mouth slack.

“Take me to your child,” Vilotta ordered.

The priestess expressed her undying gratitude and led Vilotta out of the market and through the forest. The two traveled together for about an hour before they reached the village. It was a typical human village, an adorably pathetic reflection of fae architecture. The woman lived in one of the larger houses, no doubt courtesy of the wealthy Sanguian church. Since it was late at night, there were no other humans around, much to Vilotta’s disappointment. She would have loved to see the crowd gather around and gaze upon her beauty. Instead, the streets were abandoned as Doris led her past the church and into her home.

The girl was lying in her bedroom, attended by her other mother, Ellen, whose shocked expression matched the one Doris had given Vilotta when she had first revealed herself. The girl herself was unconscious, stained with blood and sweat. Vilotta looked her up and down, checking her wounds.

“Yes, I can heal this wound, if you desire,” she said.

Doris did not hesitate. “What will it cost?” she asked.

The priestess was smart to ask. Though, Vilotta thought, she was likely not as smart as she thought she was.

“It will cost your child,” Vilotta replied.

“What do you mean?” Ellen asked.

“I will heal your child, and then I will take her back to my castle and she will belong to me,” Vilotta explained.

“No!” Ellen said defiantly, her voice cracking slightly. “You can’t!”

“Then your child dies. That is the only payment I will accept,” Vilotta said, giving her voice a sharp edge that set Ellen crying and repeating “No” and “Please”.

“Ten years!” Doris shouted suddenly. “Give us ten years, then take your prize.”

Vilotta smiled. Doris definitely thought she was smarter than she really was.

“Deal,” said Vilotta.

“Wait, Doris, we can’t!” blubbered Ellen.

“It’s our only choice.”

Vilotta ignored their argument. As far as she was concerned, the deal was made. She turned her attention to the girl, and with a wave of her hand she wove a glamour around her, closing the wounds. Perhaps they weren’t truly closed, but they thought they were closed and the world thought they were closed, and that was enough to heal them. She restored the girl’s lost blood and returned the color to her face. Then she made some other changes.

The two women looked over Vilotta’s work.

“W-what did you do?” said the ever-frantic Ellen.

“This was not part of the deal,” Doris added sharply.

“I am simply ensuring that my prize remains undamaged for the next ten years. Do take good care of her.”

With that, Vilotta vanished, leaving the two women gaping in shock at where she had once stood.