“The papersarethe cause, madam. After the trouble at the Dell, every fae in the area needs to be accounted for. There can be no exceptions.”
I turn from the window.
“There are guards here, checking fae ownership papers.”
Her expression shifts, the worry in her eyes replaced by something brighter. Her gaze darts toward the door.
“I’d think about it before you scream for help.” I make no move to stop her.
She freezes, mouth half-open.
“You told the serving girl here I was your pet. You told theseamstress your father bought me. You spent the night in a room with me.” I watch the words hit, one by one. “What do you think the guards will see when they find us? A kidnapped princess … or a woman who helped a fae animal escape?”
The color drains from her face. “I didn’thelpyou at all! You took me.”
“I know that.Youknow that … but they don’t. You’ve had every opportunity to scream for help, or run. Instead, you bought me clothes, you sat in the inn and ate, while I knelt at your feet. You played the part of a woman with her favorite pet so convincingly that no one looked twice.”
“Because you made me?—”
“Did I? Was I holding a knife to your throat in the store? Or downstairs? Did I force you to tell the innkeeper I belonged to you?” I tilt my head, smiling. “You fed me from your hand … by your own choice.”
She’s shaking now. I can see her working through it, trying to find a way out that doesn’t exist.
“The Dell knows what really happened,” I continue. “They know a fae escaped with the king’s daughter. They’re going to try and keep the real details private. It’s bad for business to have prey turn on their patrons. But if you show up now, with me, after days together? How will your father feel when he hears that his daughter has been aiding an escaped fae by buying it clothes and openly sharing its bed?”
“He wouldn’t believe that! He knows me. He knows I would never?—”
“Would he? How do you explain why you didn’t sneak off while I was sleeping?”
At the edge of my attention, I track the sound of the guards as they move through the inn downstairs.
“When they come up here, they’re going to knock on the door.If no one answers, with their orders, they have the authority to force it open. They won’t wait for permission.”
She swallows, her eyes jumping between me and the door.
“They need to see something that makes them leave, without stopping to ask questions or looking too closely.”
“What would—” Her face changes. “No.”
I just stare at her.
She shakes her head.
“What do you think they’ll do if they walk in on a noblewoman while her fae services her? They’ll apologize and leave. They won’t demand papers from a woman who’s been caught in the middle of something that’s whispered about but never acknowledged openly.”
“No!” She backs away from me. “Absolutely not. There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t.”
“There’salwaysanother way. We could … I could tell them I lost the papers. Or that they were stolen with everything else, when the bandits?—”
“And when they ask to examine me? When they look closely and discover I’m not what I’m pretending to be? How long do you think a glamour will hold up under such close inspection?” The truth is, at full strength, nothing would be able to break through a glamour I make. But I don’t have access to my full powers, so all I can manage is a shallow cover. One that will break if they look too hard.
She’s still shaking her head, but she knows I’m right. She just doesn’t want to admit it.
I reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. My face stays blank. This part is easy. I’ve done it so many times, my hands don’t even hesitate.
And I hate that. I hate how the compliance lives in mymuscles, carved there by centuries of repetition. I hate that my body learned to obey no matter how much my mind objected. Every noblewoman who ever crooked her finger at me left her mark in this … this reflexivesubmission.
