Unicorn bait

She had turned herself back into a virgin again, with that flair for backwardness of hers. An unusual talent, I thought, but of no particular use - except perhaps in a cat-house, where, by exercising it she might continue to fetch premium prices from customers with a special taste for unicorn bait.

Who'd marry the Fool? Who'd betroth his daughter to the Fool? The very scorn that made his magic possible also made any kind of a normal life impossible. The only chance to find a woman lay among the magical creatures of the realm…and he wasn't at all sure that he wanted to make that kind of alliance with one of them. […] He stared glumly down at his reflection in the mead, thinking with resignation that he was, in all probability, doomed to live and die as unicorn bait.

He looked at her, startled and a little disappointed. Then he shrugged. "Still unicorn bait," he said.