Page 32

TRADES ARE MADE

G isele waited for dawn in the library, trying and failing to bury herself in first research and then a novel, desperate for something to distract from the dream images her mind kept returning to. The shocking nipple ornament was particularly intrusive.

Don’t think about it , she admonished herself. How are you ever going to find a way free of the man if you let yourself get caught up in such fantasies, hmm?

Finally, she decided it was light enough to venture forth, and she put her book away with relief, having read exactly none of it. Stomping about outside would hopefully give her the composure to look Mal in the eyes when she saw him next.

The morning air cooled her flushed cheeks. She loved this time of day, the quiet potential. For a moment she stood in the kitchen garden, letting herself simply enjoy the trills of birds, the waking buzz of insects, the scents of flowers blooming.

Just don’t enjoy it so much you forget what you’re here for , her conscience prompted. Remember, the goal is to untangle yourself from all this sooner rather than later. This isn’t where you belong.

The problem was that, despite everything, she liked the house and the library and the chaotic garden, even if it made her fingers itch to put it to rights.

She liked the aloof Zingiber and the meadow folk.

She liked being treated as a normal woman rather than a tragically cursed princess.

Well, relatively normally. She suspected Mal had even less idea what constituted normality than she did.

And, most terribly of all, she liked Mal. Even though she was sure he still viewed her as an unwanted guest.

She shook her head and went to hunt for more catnip.

It was harder to find than it had been before, and in the end she found only one small plant—Zingiber must have had a go at the rest. There was at least still plenty of lavender, the scent sticking to her hands as she gathered a bunch.

She already had extra linden flowers dried—she’d been planning to use them for tea, but some could go into the Dagomir’s Mixture too.

Now, poppy seeds. She could have sworn there was an entire bed of poppy by the garden wall, but she must have misremembered. There was nothing there now but wilting pumpkin vines and compost. Wandering the rest of the garden failed to unearth any more poppies.

She turned on the spot, addressing the inappropriate bull statue. “I don’t suppose you want to help me find poppies?”

Skymallow didn’t respond, and neither did the erdhenne, which was sunbathing by the statue’s hooves.

An image of undulating wildflowers came to her. Of course—the meadow. If she was lucky, they’d be near the front gate.

She was not lucky. In the farthest distance, she could make out the waving blobs of poppies. She stared across the meadow in dismay. There were none near the house.

What was near the house was Niressa-slash-Nevermourn, who was perched atop the boulder by the mailbox, watching Gisele curiously. She was clothed—something Gisele was now specifically grateful for every time she saw the nixe.

Gisele picked her way down to the front gate until she stood within polite conversational distance. “Good morning,” she said.

“Morning,” the girl said warily. She looked ready to launch herself off the boulder and into the stream.

“Can I ask a favour?” Gisele said hastily.

Nevermourn’s eyes narrowed. “What favour?”

“Would you mind bringing me some poppy seedheads?” She pointed towards the far end of the meadow. “They’re the ones with?—”

“I know what poppies are,” Nevermourn said scornfully. “What do you want them for?”

“A herbal mixture. It helps with… unwanted dreams. Zingiber helpfully destroyed my last packet, and there’s no more poppies in the garden.”

Nevermourn looked both startled and uncomfortable with this confidence. “Two jars of peaches,” she said after a beat, as if she were haggling.

Gisele blinked. “Oh. Of course. You can have more, if you like.”

Nevermourn gave her a fierce glare. “No. That’s what this is worth. I won’t owe you or anyone.” She stormed across the field, ink-dark hair billowing angrily around her.

Gisele stared after her for a moment and then went to fetch the peaches. The girl was quick, already back before Gisele returned and sitting once more on the boulder, this time with a pile of poppy heads beside her.

Gisele held out the peaches, and they swapped offerings.

“Thank you, Nevermourn.”

The girl’s shoulders shifted irritably. “You might as well call me Niressa. Everybody thinks the other name ridiculous.”

“What do you want to be called?” Gisele also found the girl’s adopted name ridiculous, but knowing what she now did about her tragic past and the difficulty of changing true names, she couldn’t find it in her heart to judge her for wanting to reinvent herself.

The girl chewed on her lips. “A… person… used to call me Nissa, once. That’s shorter. Probably easier for a human to remember.”

Gisele couldn’t help but smile. “Probably.”

She could tell that Nissa both desperately longed for the conversation to continue and would flee at any sign it was doing so out of pity.

Gisele recognised the need— just how many lonely people are there in this one meadow?

—but also felt unequal to the task. Still, she was the adult here.

How did one talk to teenagers? She’d been one, once. It felt an exhaustingly long time ago.

“Have you ever been to a fairy ball?” she asked, scrambling for something to talk about.

Nissa raised one eyebrow. “A fairy ball,” she drew out the word ‘fairy’. “Specific.”

“Oh, of course. Although actually, I don’t know what kind of fae King Tāwhiri is. It’s his ball. Mal and I are going. I don’t have any idea what to expect—or even what’s appropriate to wear.”

A second eyebrow joined the first. “And you think I do?”

“You can’t have less idea than I do,” Gisele pointed out. “The house has some dresses, but I might need to modify them. Would you care to give an opinion?”

Nissa looked suspicious. “Why don’t you ask your Malediction? He’s a clothes-horse if ever there was one.”

“I don’t want to ask him,” she said, realising it was true even though she’d come up with this entire ‘problem’ on the spot. She didn’t want to ask Mal because she wanted to—what? Surprise him? Impress him? Remember you’re not supposed to care what he thinks of you.

But Nissa was nodding as if not wanting to ask Mal for advice was a perfectly reasonable statement in and of itself. “All right,” she conceded. “I could have opinions. I’ve only been to nixe balls, though.”

“Do you want to come up to the house? I could show you now?” Gisele asked.

Nissa blinked poison-orange eyes at her and then laughed when it became apparent that Gisele was being sincere.

“You’re a very stupid human sometimes, aren’t you?

” she said scathingly, but it didn’t alter the lightness in her expression.

She was happy Gisele had asked her, and dealing with the unfamiliar emotion the only way she knew how.

“Of course I can’t come past the wards. I can’t even swim through the part of the stream that runs through Skymallow’s garden. ”

Gisele refused to be daunted. “Well, I could bring things out here, then? How clean is that rock?”

Nissa’s nose wrinkled. “Won’t your Malediction see us?”

“I shall inform him I’ll pull out his tail fur if he does.”

Nissa gave a delighted giggle.