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Chapter 1
Isa’s list of Things I’m Loath to Do featured a select few items, and dropping off a fugitive at the fae court ranked right under scraping fox poop off her shoes.
The splendor of the royal palace alone rubbed her the wrong way, the fine livery of the guards so unsuited to actual combat, the shining marble and stone so polished it barely sang to her anymore. Not to mention the gold and silver adorning the doors. A small splinter of that would pay for a new bow and more arrows than she could shoot in a month.
But the stares were the worst. The finest of the fae gathered at the court, sycophants basking in the grandeur of the royals, blissed out among the riches of Faerie. Things they were loath to do? Being reminded that not all of Faerie lived this life of luxury, that some actually needed to work to survive.
However, for all that Isa hated those cold stares directed at her—the despised reminder—she relished how she ruined those faeries’ day by daring to walk among them.
So, when she brought her latest fugitive back to the royal court to serve his sentence, she did enjoy the fact she had to drag him through gleaming halls of jewels and precious stone right up to the throne room.
Highborn fae sniffed while she passed them, curled their lips at her dirty attire—she’d chased the escaped faery through muddy wetlands, and hadn’t bothered to change, all the better to scandalize the royals—and muttered sophisticated insults at her. She allowed herself a smile hidden by her talôr, the cloth covering the lower half of her face.
When she arrived at the massive double doors leading into the throne room, the guards blocked her way.
“You will hand your capture over to us, hunter,” one of them said, so proud and uppity in his beautiful uniform. The one with serious design flaws, from the tightness across the shoulders that would impede his ability to move freely in a fight, to how it allowed no room for even the lightest of armors to protect his vulnerable spots.
Idiots. Complacent, that’s what the royal court had become. Thought themselves so safe within the borders of Faerie, so settled and smug in their power, they’d neglected to keep their weapons sharp and their minds even sharper.
She brought the fugitive to heel next to her with a yank on his magical leash. “My contract is with the king, and only with him. His Highness signed it, not you, nor any other guard. Therefore, I will only surrender the capture to His Majesty, and receive my reward from him personally as well.”
The taller of the two fae guards narrowed his eyes. Oh, how he wanted to deny her entrance. It was written all over his handsome blue face, but agreements among fae were considered sacred, and had to be followed word for word. With a clenched jaw, he stepped aside and allowed her through. The escaped fae grunted when she yanked him into the throne room behind her.
Ah, splendid. Nearly the entire court was assembled. Conversation ceased when she marched into the middle of the massive hall, stopped in front of the dais with the two intricately carved thrones, and bent her knee before the royal couple and the noble fae. Hissed whispers floated over to her. Bounty hunter scum. Reeks of humans. So obscene.
Isa squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and focused on the reward for this job. It’s good money, it’s good money, she repeated to herself, over and over. She’d long ago shed any shame over her profession, and outside of the royal court, she rarely encountered prejudice like this. She was good at what she did, and to hell with those who looked down on her because of it. And yet, something about the combined force of the disdainful stares of those noble fae stung her despite her determination to ignore them.
When the king bade her rise, she stood and released the escaped faery from the magical leash, forcing him to face the thrones. He’d been a real prick to her all the way back into Faerie, and had spit on her more times than she could count. If she began this mission with the slightest scrap of sympathy for him, he thoroughly trashed it with his vulgar taunts, not to mention the attempted bite attack. She didn’t care what he did to incur the royals’ wrath, to make them pay a lovely sum to a lowborn bounty hunter to track him down and haul him back from the humanlands. Not that she usually wondered, or even asked, about the subjects she was tasked to retrieve, but in his case, she honestly couldn’t care any less.
“Bounty hunter,” the king intoned, his blue eyes striking in a brown face just a little darker than Isa’s own complexion, his long blond hair elegantly parted around his pointed ears.
“Your majesty.” Isa bowed. “I present to you the fugitive you tasked me to capture and bring before you. I humbly request to receive the agreed-upon reward.”
“Ah, yes.”
The king waved a hand, and a guard hurried forward and dragged the whimpering fugitive to the side. The highest of the highborn fae then tossed a satchel toward Isa. It landed with a metallic clink at her feet. She snatched it off the floor, opened it and started to count the coin, when the king spoke again.
“You are dismissed. Begone.”
With a bow, she moved toward the doors, still counting the money. A spasm clutched her limbs, a hot flash of piercing pain fired up her nerves. The hand that sorted through the coins twitched and numbed. She paused, breathed through her nose, and forced herself to hold her hand still.
Not…yet…
Focused on curling her fingers into her palm. She shook from the effort. Sweat broke out on her skin. Seconds ticked by, but she managed to make a fist, to fight back the debilitating numbness until she felt her hand again.
Not…yet…
The curse was acting up again. Sooner than she expected. With a sharp shake of her head, she refused to consider the implications.
Not…yet…
She finished counting the money instead. Her stomach curled in on itself. Her pulse sped up. Heat washed over her.
Suppressing a growl, she turned back to the dais. “Your Majesty.”
He barely spared her a glance.
“Your Highness.” She cleared her throat, spoke louder. “This is not the sum we agreed on.”
