“Not kindness at all,” he said so smoothly that it almost seemed as though he hadn’t interrupted her. “Entirely appreciation. Please, look inside. I am eager to know if it pleases you.”

With few options that weren’t outright insulting to him, Aurora opened the box to indrawn breaths all around.

Resting inside was a huge sapphire the deep blue of her eyes. It hung from a heavy metal chain. Count Alain lifted the necklace and unclasped it. “If I may?”

If she refused, he would be offended. And the courtiers who already admired him would be upset on his behalf. But she wanted to let him know that she could not be bribed. “You may, but you and I must still have a conversation,” she said sternly, “about the Moors and the future of Perceforest.”

“With pleasure,” he told her, his fingers overly warm on her skin as he clasped the sapphire around her throat. The chain rested heavily on her collarbone, and as she lifted a hand to touch it, she recognized the metal.

To Aurora’s horror, she realized that he had given her a necklace forged of cold iron.

Late that night, Aurora stood on her balcony, surveying both her kingdoms. She could see the town below her, the Moorlands, and even a little of Ulstead in the distance. A chill breeze ruffled her hair.

As usual, she couldn’t sleep.

She hadn’t bothered to take off the iron necklace. It felt as heavy as her heart. She no longer believed Count Alain could be convinced to help. Yet she had to find a way forward for her two kingdoms. She had to discover the means to make the people of Perceforest see that the faeries in the Moors were helpful, kind, and clever—even if they were also sometimes hot-tempered or mischievous.

But they weren’t cruel in the way that humans were. No one on the Moorlands starved when another faerie had food to share. No one made war for gain or counted money as more important than friendship or love. If only the humans could see that, they would realize how fortunate Perceforest would be to have the Fair Folk as allies and friends.

Something fell by Aurora’s feet, startling her from her thoughts. She looked down and saw a folded note beside her shoe.

She lifted it and frowned at it. Then she unfolded the paper.

The message was written in an elegant hand and contained a message that sounded a little like a riddle: If I asked you to go for a walk tomorrow in the gardens, would your answer be the same as the answer to this question?

She looked up, but the balcony above hers was empty.

Aurora frowned. If Count Alain thought that just because he’d given her one horrifying necklace, she was going to agree to go for a walk with him, he was very much mistaken.