In theory, it was a beautiful thing to love thine enemies. In practice, it was like chewing on rocks. Seri saw Brand fly over the wall with a new girl on his carpet and threw down her gardening sheers in disgust.

“That bastard!” she yelled.

Gretchen glanced at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Then, “No, I’m not! I’m going to kill him!”

She threw off her gloves.

Every day, he found new ways of testing her patience. Even when he did nothing but play chess. Especially those days. Because every time he acted normal, she wanted so badly to believe that there was some good in him. She tried so hard to get him to do what was right, and it was like bashing her head against a wall.

He is never going to change!

And it wouldn’t have mattered if she could still pretend he was a monster, an evil and twisted demon, but that would be a lie. He was twisted, all right, but she understood him too well to think him a demon. He was just stubborn. Like her.

She left Gretchen in the garden and stormed into the castle. She wished she could storm up to the turret where he flew and interrupt him mid-curse, but she knew the door would be locked. She could do nothing but wait for him to come down. He did so, alone, as usual, wearing the disguise of the minstrel, lute still in hand. He looked unbearably smug. Seri crossed her arms.

“Another one?” she said.

“Her name is Petronille,” Brand replied. “You’ll like her. Tell her what to expect and make her feel at home.”

“Do not make me an accomplice in your schemes!”

“Fine. Say nothing and let her fend for herself.”

“I hate when you do this to me, Brand. You bring in these kidnapped, frightened girls, and leave me to explain to them what you want, whether you intend to rape them or not—”

“You were going to rape me?”

Seri looked up and saw the new girl peering from behind the door. She had a slender body and blond hair. Her face was heavily tear-streaked, but she seemed calm at the moment. Her eyes were dry.

Brand looked at Seri. “Well, go on and explain.”

Seri clenched her jaw. Brand was infuriating. He kept trying to drag her down to his level, using her own good intentions against her.

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“No,” Seri told the girl. “He’s not going to rape you. But he will turn you into a dragon unless you give him something.”

“What do you want?” Petronille asked.

“We’ll discuss that after dinner,” Brand said. “Excuse me while I get dressed.”

And just like that, Brand disappeared through the doors. Seri wanted to strangle him.

“I’m sorry,” Petronille said. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“It’s fine. You can do whatever you like here.”

“You’re mad?”

“Not at you. At him.”

“Is he your husband? Because—”

“No!” Seri shouted. “My husband?! He kidnapped me—like he kidnapped you.”

“He didn’t kidnap me. He rescued me. I was about to be married.”

Seri stared.

“I didn’t love the man I was to wed,” Petronille explained.

“Still, he shouldn’t have taken you,” Seri said.

“Maybe not. But… I don’t feel afraid of him. I think he may be a good man.”

“Good?” Seri sputtered.

“I suppose you know him better than I. Is he cruel?”

Seri bit her tongue. She glared at the mirrors. She knew Brand was watching, probably laughing. Why did he stick her in these situations—having to talk him up, right after he did something she hated.

“He’s not intentionally cruel,” she said. “He’s fickle, and he has a temper. But he will not strike you or beat you or abuse you—at least, I’ve never seen him do such a thing.”

Petronille nodded. “I’ll give him no cause to hate me. I’m grateful, you see, to be here.”

“You’re grateful?”

“I am.” She lowered her head. “And I won’t get in your way, either. I simply want a… a reprieve. A little time before I’m forced to… to go back.”

Her voice cracked a bit.

It occurred to Seri that this strange girl, Petronille, was more afraid of her than of Brand. Quite possibly because Seri had done nothing but yell and seethe. She was angry at Brand… but that was not Petronille’s fault.

“You’re not in the way,” Seri said, more gently. “You’re welcome here with us. If you can, you should try to enjoy yourself. Everything you need will be provided for you.”

“Are we… are we his mistresses?”

“No!” Seri said loudly. “I’m sure he’d like that. But you do not need to sleep with him or touch him or even smile at him. He’s got a few rules he sticks to. Dinner is at seven—everyone attends. Afterwards, he asks a girl to sit with him in his private room. That you must also do. He will ask you in tonight.”

“You know it will be me?” Petronille asked.

“Any time he brings in a new girl, he requests an audience with them,” Seri said.

“And what must I do?”

“Speak to him,” Seri replied. “Don’t worry. He merely wishes to get to know you. If he asks you questions, give him honest replies. He might ask you to play a game with him or look through some books.”

Petronille nodded eagerly. “I’ll try to be charming. But I’m not a very good conversationalist. I’m not very witty or clever, you see. Do you think I shall disappoint him?”

“I do not think you need try so hard to impress him. We are his prisoners, after all.” She looked at the mirror.

“Why do you do that?” Petronille asked.

“He watches and listens through the mirrors,” Seri said.

“Oh.”

“If I were you, I’d cover the one in your room. Shall we go outside, to my garden, where we may talk in private? You can meet Gretchen of Castle Aurich, who is also his prisoner.”

“And what is your name?”

“Serihilde of Castle Staghome. You may call me Seri.”

“You both come from Castles. I’m only from a House—House Delmen. We’ve no magic in our bloodline.”

“None?” Seri asked.

“Not for generations.”

That was odd, because Brand’s whole excuse for revenge had to do with finding this hidden magic bloodline. It made Seri wonder if he even cared about that anymore. Part of her thought the only reason he had kidnapped Gretchen and now Petronille was to prove a point to her—that she would not change him.

The man was insufferable.