From afar, Seri had looked no different from the many other young women Brand had captured. More rustic than some. Her long dark hair had been tied up loosely, her red dress was simple, her boots sturdy. When he’d flown over the wall and seen her from behind, cutting lilies by the pond, she seemed the picture of a pretty, provincial maiden—not the worst kind of lady, he supposed. She would fight—at first. But once she arrived at his house, with every luxury thrown her way, she’d relent. He’d seduce her, as he did with all the other girls.

Brand’s first clue that she might prove difficult came that first night, when she point-blank refused to come into his study and then spent the whole time arguing with him. Some women did act this way. A few—not most, but some—decided to push against his courtesy. He wondered if she’d be that way. If so, he’d educate her on manners.

Not that Brand was overly strict. In general, he let the women do as they liked. He woke late, long after most of the girls had finished breakfast, and walked through the tower, checking on them. The first girl he ran into Ida, the quietest of the girls, and she confirmed that Seri had eaten that morning. Good. He did not want another starving woman on his hand.

Brand made his way to the gardens and was startled to see Seri midway up the brick wall, her legs and arms tangled in vines. Startled, but not all that surprised. He assumed she was trying to scale the walls. The vines had sprung out, binding her, preventing her escape.

“Would you like a hand?” Brand offered.

Seri glared at him and pointedly turned to the young girl near her.

“Lotte, there are a pair of garden shears in my room. Please get them for me.”

Brand chuckled. “You’re only making things harder for yourself. Say the word, and I’ll let you down.”

She looked away.

“Suit yourself.”

It was not unusual for new girls to try to escape. Some tried harder than others. But the magic here was strong. Seri would not get out.

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Brand walked on and found Rilla in the library and asked her to sit with him for a board game. Rilla was keen to oblige. She was here the longest; her three months grace period was nearly up.

They went to his private room, and Brand brought out his backgammon board. For the first few minutes, they were absorbed with throwing their dice and moving their pieces. Then Rilla spoke.

“The new girl said you did a truth-binding with her,” she said.

“I did.”

“Why didn’t you offer it to me?”

“Because, my dear, you couldn’t sense it. Besides, I thought you trusted me. Do you not?”

He smiled. Brand was wearing the illusion of a young man, twenty-five, blond, tan and muscular. He had learned that the type appealed to Rilla. He did try to change his guise to the girl’s preference.

Rilla rolled the dice. “Lotte thinks you murder the girls who leave.”

“She is very young, is she not? To believe such tales.”

“We’ve not really talked about my fate,” Rilla said. “What you require to send me home.”

“You wish to leave, Rilla? But my dear, I’ve grown so fond of you. How could I part with my favorite girl?”

“I won’t be a girl much longer. I feel the changes coming.”

“You are still in the grace period.”

“But I feel it,” she said. “In my nightmares, in my dreams. I cannot stand to think of becoming a dragon. Please, end this curse.”

She took his hand, something she’d become very comfortable with. He pressed his fingers lightly to her cheek, and she didn’t flinch. She was ready, he thought. Willing to be seduced. He did like her, though, and would be sad to see her go. She was one of the older girls he’d brought, and she kept the other girls in line. But it was time.

“You know, I would not see you harmed,” Brand said.

“I know.”

“What will you give me?” he asked.

Rilla looked down. “You spoke very fondly of my castle’s jewel. If I help you to retrieve it, will that be enough?”

“A jewel is a poor replacement for my beautiful Rilla. I will accept it, of course—but what shall I have to remember you by?”

She gazed up at him. “One night together,” she said. “A shared moment of passion to look back upon fondly and keep you warm during the cold nights.”

“I think that would suffice.”

He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. He felt a brief twinge of affection. Not love. He wished he could feel that toward her, but perhaps three brief months was not time enough for love to grow. Still, he liked her and found her desirable, and he would miss her once she left. Some girls, who whined and gossiped, lied and complained, grinded on his nerves. Making love to them was more a chore than a reward.

He would take Rilla tonight, send her home in the morning, and still have four girls left to juggle, including the newest one who would probably be a handful.

He had no idea.