The Iron Knight (The Iron Fey #4)

truth and knew she should be wary, but I also knew her greed would keep her coming back.

The following day, I didn’t leave her anything, but watched her f lounder about in the stream for hours, searching and growing des-pondent, until evening fell and she left on the verge of tears. And I smiled to myself, already planning the next stage. It was time to move in for the kill.

The next afternoon, I put a single white rose on a f lat rock near the stream, faded into the woods and waited.

She wasn’t long in coming, and when she saw the rose she gasped and picked it up almost reverently, holding it as if it was made of purest crystal.

As she straightened and gazed around, eyes shining with hope, I dropped the glamour and stepped out of the trees.

She jumped like a startled deer but, as I had predicted, made no move to run. I let her stare at me, waiting for the shock to fade. Knowing humans found us beautiful, I’d dressed the part of the prince in black-and-silver, my cape falling over one shoulder and my sword at my waist. She gaped at me like a landed fish, her dark eyes wide with fear, but also with a little wonder and excitement.

Very carefully, I let my glamour settle over her, taking away her fear, leaving only the awe behind. Human emotions were fickle things, easy to inf luence. I could have enchanted her, made her fall completely in love at first sight, but that would be cheating, according to Rowan.

That was fabricated love, where the mortal was no more than a fawning, glassy-eyed slave. To completely own her, body and soul, took careful manipulation and time.



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Still, there was no reason I couldn’t level the field a bit.

“Forgive me,” I said in a cool, soothing voice as the girl continued to stare. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ve been watching you for some time, and I couldn’t stay away any longer. I hope you didn’t find my gifts ill-mannered.”

The girl opened her mouth, but no sounds escaped. I waited two heartbeats, then turned away, bowing my head.

“What am I saying?” I continued before she could respond. “Here I am, acting like an uncivilized barbarian, stalking you from the woods.

Of course, you don’t want to see me like this—I should go.”

“No, wait!” the girl cried, just as I had planned. I turned back with a

“dare I hope” expression, and she smiled at me across the water. “I don’t mind,”

she said, suddenly bashful and coy, twisting her hands behind her back. “You can stay… if you want.” I hid my smile. Easier than I thought.

The girl’s name, she told me, was Brynna, and she was the daughter of the druid priestess who led the village. Her grandmother was a very powerful shaman, and very strict, forbidding anyone to go into the forest or even near its borders, for fear of the Good Neighbors that lurked within the trees. But the f lowers that grew along the edge of the forest were the most beautiful, and Brynna loved beautiful things, so she waited until her grandmother was napping before she slipped out of the village and down to the stream.

“And why does your grandmother hate the Good Neighbors so?” I asked, smiling at the mortals’ odd name for us, which they used 265/387

because, supposedly, voicing our real names might draw our attention.

I smiled at the girl, feigning curiosity while tinting the air with glamour, subduing any fears she might have.

“She…she doesn’t hate them,” Brynna went on, nervously pushing her hair back. “She fears them. She’s afraid of what they might do—kill our livestock, steal our children, make the women unfertile.”

“And, are you afraid of them?” I asked in a low voice, closing the final few feet between us. Very gently, I reached for her rough, work-call used hands, holding them to my chest. “Are you afraid of me?” She gazed up at my face, dark eyes shining with foolish trust, and shook her head.

“I’m glad.” I smiled and kissed the back of her hand. “May I see you again tomorrow?”

I knew the answer even before she nodded.

It was easy after that, though I took my time with her, wanting to play the game right. Every afternoon, right before twilight, I met her at the stream.

Sometimes with trinkets, sometimes with f lowers, always with some sort of gift that would keep her returning to me. I showered her with compliments and tender kisses, playing the smitten fool, smiling as she melted under my touch. I never pushed too far, being sure to end each meeting before it got out of hand. When I eventually took her, at the stone circle on the night of the full moon, I wanted there to be no doubts in her mind.

As the game progressed, I even found myself enjoying these little encounters. Humans, I discovered, loved so passionately, without 266/387