A Touch of Innocence

A Touch of Innocence (A Demisexual M/M Fairy Romance) Julie Mannino Copyright Ⓒ 2023 by Julie Mannino Published 2023 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieved system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review to print in a magazine, newspaper, or blog post. Table of Contents Author’s Note Aspen Oriel Aspen Oriel Aspen Oriel Aspen Oriel Aspen A Touch of Savagery Other works by Julie Mannino Author’s Note This novella contains material intended for mature readers, including sex workers, light bondage, mentions of parent death, angst, rich/poor, class difference, friends to lovers, and lovers to enemies. One character is a demisexual with biromantic attraction, but his feelings and actions don’t speak for all demisexuals or anyone under the ace umbrella. While this is set in the same universe as my Alternate Earth novels, the fairy realm is separate from Earth, and no interaction with humans takes place. This takes place in 1674. For info on the latest books, including queer fairy tales, fantasy, and M/M romance, sign up here for the Newsletter. This is the life and the way that was chosen. The silence, often of pure innocence, persuades where speaking fails. -William Shakespeare, Winter’s Tale, Act II, Scene Two Aspen “I’d pay him to fuck me.” Aspen snorted as he looked at the older prostitute. “No, you wouldn’t.” Zima chuckled and leaned against the wall. “You’re right. I’d never give up my money even for a Prince.” “And he’s too young for you.” “Pfft. Who cares? It’s not like it would actually happen anyway. Someone like him wouldn’t look twice at us.” “That is Prince Oriel, right?” asked Aspen. “Yeah, he always keeps his hair shorter than the other two. Thank Elira, or we’d never know which one is the Crown Prince.” Aspen eyed Prince Oriel as he rode by on his horse. His hair was short and black, although purple highlights showed where the sunlight hit. Combined with his slim physique, neat features, and fine clothing, he certainly looked good to Aspen. “I wish someone like that would swoop me off the street and marry me,” he said even though knew that was the dumbest fantasy ever for someone in his position. “Pfft. No one is ever going to marry us whores. Remember what I told you.” Aspen remembered. Zima’s area to pick up customers was the docks, and he’d caught Aspen too far in. Instead of kicking his ass or threatening him, he’d taken him to a tavern, bought him a drink, and gave him tips for living as a street whore. Aspen figured that Zima had felt sorry for him since he’d also been on the streets since he was fourteen and had to be at least twenty-five by now. The first tip had been to be careful about where he tried to get customers. If a whore had decided an area was theirs, it could lead to trouble if someone was snagging their potential customers. Aspen had some skill with a sword and a bow since he’d had lessons while growing up, but he only owned a knife now, and he wasn’t that big. In a fight, he’d get his ass kicked pretty fast even though he could channel fire through a weapon. It was usually slower during the day, which was why Zima must have decided to hang out with Aspen by the guild area where most of the jewelers had set up shop. Aspen usually had decent enough luck here since a crummy tavern was nearby, and more than a few of the drunk customers had made use of him. It wasn't a job he’d have picked if his life was different, but at least he wasn't dead of starvation. “If he wants a fuck, he’s probably got a half-dozen courtiers his age that are ready to slobber on his royal cock.” Zima rolled his eyes. “Lucky bastard. I’ll see you later, all right?” “Bye.” Aspen remained on the low wall of the tiny park. The pleasantness of the guild area ended before the park, which wasn’t taken care of, and he could see the tavern where he’d had some luck. The overgrown bushes and shrubbery here were great if he needed to suck someone off or bend over. Not too far, there was an inn with hourly rates if a customer needed a little more time and wanted to do something extra kinky to him. If he went around the block at night, he could often find someone looking for a quick hump and just use an alley if needed. He’d only been doing this job for a few months, and he tried to imagine being like Zima in another decade. He didn’t want to be whoring his ass out on the street for that long. Zima said Aspen was pretty enough to get a job at a whorehouse if he wanted, although he would never do that himself. Zima liked being free and not having to give a cut to the Madam and live with a bunch of other whores. Aspen wouldn’t mind since it was much safer, and he’d have a proper room to live in, but none of the good ones would take a seventeen-year-old. Eighteen was the legal age of consent, not that anybody bothered to ask how old he was on the street. He let his shoulder-length hair fall forward enough to cover his face as he spotted the Prince riding back up the street again. What would it be like to never worry about money, food, or where he’d sleep? He peeked at the handsome face and let his eyes drop. Like he’d ever get to fuck anybody like that. The hooves clomped closer, and he expected the Prince to ride by without a glance, but the beast