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All Courts pledge fealty to their ruler and that ruler pledges fealty to the High Court. When High King Cardan came to power, because I was hidden, and Queen of the Court of Teeth, my failure to give him an oath of loyalty was the reason Lady Nore and Lord Jarel were able to betray him. They would kill me on the spot if I pledged myself to anyone, because I would have become useless to them.

“We can go to the palace, and you can show me your other games,” I told him. I would hide there for as long as I could, perhaps long enough to get away from Lady Nore and Lord Jarel.

He nodded. “You toss first.”

I cupped the foxes in my hand and whispered to them softly. “Please.”

They fell, one on its back, one standing, and one on its side. A total of fifteen points. Good, but not great.

Oak picked them up, shook, and tossed. They all fell on their feet. Thirty points.

He laughed and clapped his hands. “Now you have to do whatever I want!”

I thought of what he’d made his sister do for his amusement and shuddered. At that moment the secret he’d told me seemed less a confession and more a warning.

“Well?” I growled.

Oak frowned, clearly trying to think of something. Then his brow cleared, and I dreaded what was to come next.

“Sing a song,” he said with a wicked smile.

I glanced over at the camp in panic. “They’ll hear,” I protested.

He shook his head, still grinning. “You can sing quietly. And we’ve been talking all this time. It doesn’t have to be any louder than that.”

My mind went blank. Only perhaps a year before, my unsister and I were dancing around the house to songs from movies with brave princesses, but at that moment I could think of none of their words. All I could recall were bloodthirsty ballads from the Court of Teeth. But when I opened my mouth, the tune was from a song my unmother had sung when she was putting me to bed. And the lyrics were a mishmash of the two.

“Sing a song of sixpence,” I sang as softly as I could.“Pocket full of snakes. If they take my head off, that’ ll cure my aches.”

Oak laughed as though my song was actually funny and not just some weird, grim doggerel. But however poorly done, my debt was paid, which meant I had another chance to win my freedom.

I grabbed up the foxes to play again before he could change the stakes.

Mine landed with one standing, two on their sides. Five measly, stupid, useless points. Nearly impossible to win with. I wanted to kick the figurines into the dirt, to throw them at Oak. I would owe him twice over and still have nothing. I could feel the old burn of tears behind my eyes, the taste of salt in my mouth. I was an unlucky child, ill-fated and—

On Oak’s toss, the foxes all landed on their sides for zero points.

I caught my breath and stared at him. I won.I won.

He didn’t seem disappointed to have to pay the forfeit. He got up with a grin and took out a knife from a sheath I hadn’t noticed, hidden in the sleeve of his shirt. The blade was small and leaf-shaped, its handle chased in gold, its edge sharp.

It barely parted the strands of the heavy rope, though, each one taking minutes of sawing to slice through. I had tried my own teeth on them before, with little success, but I hadn’t realized how tough they really were.

“There’s some kind of enchantment on this,” he said, frustrated.

“Cut faster,” I said, and received an annoyed look.

My fingers vibrated with the tension of waiting. Before he was a quarter of the way through, the thunder of horses and the rattle of a carriage made me realize that my win had come too late. Lady Nore and Lord Jarel were returning to camp. And they would check to make certain I was where they’d left me. Oak began to hack at the rope frantically, but I knew escape was impossible.

“Go,” I told him, disappointment bitter in my mouth.

He caught hold of my hand, pressing one of the silver foxes into my palm. “I’ll come back tomorrow,” he said. “I promise.”

I sucked in my breath at that casually given vow. Faeries couldn’t break their promises, so I had no choice but to believe him.

The next night the entire Court of Teeth was preparing for what Lord Jarel had announced with great smugness was to be a celebratory feast. The mortal High Queen had agreed to accept the bridle, along with their offer of a truce. I had been given a dress and told not to get it dirty, so I stood rather than sat on the ground.

I worried that Oak wouldn’t get there in time to keep me from being carted off to the feast. I was dreaming up ways to beseech him at the castle when he emerged from the woods. He dragged a sword behind him, too long to wear at his side. It made me recall that he’d jumped in front of his mother when the serpent king darted toward her, a prince from a fairy tale facing down a dragon. He might have been soft and cherished, but he could be brave.