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“Fairy gift stuff. You’ll see.”

“And you’re sure it’s safe?” she asked.

“Well…mostly. I can’t be a hundred percent certain.” I’d seen too many good plans go sideways to make any guarantees. “It’s the only way I can think of to get you out, though.”

“Fair enough.”

“You should maybe move away from the back wall.”

Ilyana stood up and walked toward the bars. As she stepped closer, a waft of the lovely scent I’d been following washed over me. It was coming from her.

I’ll admit that I was interested in getting a better look at the most beautiful woman in the world. Out of sheer curiosity, if nothing else. But when she stepped into the light, I was left with more questions than answers.

I couldn’t tell if she was tall or short, dark or pale, blond, brunette, raven-haired, or redheaded. She seemed to flicker from one appearance to another, so rapidly it was almost a blur. From plump and curvaceous to slender and angular to huge and impressively muscled. And then a dozen other forms in the next few seconds. The only constants were her clothing and jewelry, a white silk dress and a glittering ring on her right hand.

She must have noticed something odd about my gaze, because she tilted her head and asked, “Something wrong?”

“You’re kind of, um…fluctuating?”

“Oh.” She smirked. The smirk stayed on her face through every shift. It was possible to read her expressions, with a little attention. “Yeah, that happens sometimes. You haven’t dated much, have you?”

My face heated. “Er, no. Why?”

It was true enough. I’d never even made the attempt. It was difficult when Yudit and I were attached at the hip almost all the time. Although that didn’t seem to stop my sister. She fell madly in love at the drop of a hat. I hadn’t ever been in love at all.

I’d thought I was, once. Remember Sam, Queen Jacqueline’s brother? The one who left Tailliz with the terrifying sorceress? For a while, I was absolutely infatuated with him. I hadn’t met anyone like him before. He never let the body he was born into dictate who he was, never let anyone tell him he was a woman when he knew he was a man. After a time, I realized I wasn’t in love with him; I just wanted to be like him. Then I realized that wasn’t right, either, because it felt as wrong to call myself a man as it had felt to call myself a woman. Leaving me not knowing what to think, which is about where I’ve been ever since.

I doubt Sam was aware of any of this, since I never mentioned it to him. And I wasn’t about to confess my confused feelings once he took up with the sorceress. A sorceress who was definitely not someone you’d want to piss off. She turned me into a goose once.

So that was the whole of my romantic history. A wordless false crush. It wasn’t that I’d never found anyone else attractive, or had no interest in finding love. I did. I was just very, very bad at it.

“What should the most beautiful girl in the world look like?” Ilyana asked.

I hadn’t thought about it before, and the question stumped me. “I’m not sure. What does that even mean? Wouldn’t it depend on…Oh.”

“Yeah, exactly. Beauty isn’t an objective concept. It’s based on culture, upbringing, personal taste. Kinks. So whatever someone thinks is beautiful, that’s what I look like. But every now and then I come across a person who hasn’t formed an opinion yet. Usually a very small child, but sometimes I run into a late bloomer.”

“I see.” Late bloomer was a reasonable way to describe me.

“Anyway, when that happens—”

“You shift around,” I finished.

“Bingo.”

I tried to imagine what it would be like for my appearance to depend on the whim of anyone who happened to be gazing at me. I couldn’t fathom it. It was hard enough to forge my own sense of identity when I was so often mistaken for my sisters.

“What does the genius see when he looks at you?” I asked. “Another genius?”

“Nah. I’m the most beautiful human girl. That’s still what he sees. Like, an iguana doesn’t look at me and see the most beautiful iguana. The stupid thing is, that ace-smuggling rum-locker doesn’t even find humans attractive. I might as well be the most beautiful iguana to him.”

“He only wants a soul to sell.”

“Right.” Her smirk widened into a grin. “He’s not going to get one, though. Not from me. I’ve made certain of that.”

The brass wall behind her groaned, a discordant wail of tortured metal. She spun around, but there wasn’t any visible damage yet. She turned back to me and raised her eyebrows, the eyes beneath them shifting from brown to amber to blue, then from hazel to green to gray.

“You’re sure it’s safe?” she asked.