I should leave and never return.
I should put her out of my mind.
And I would.
But first, I wanted to know her name.
* * *
Being in this decrepit country without a glamour felt like standing in the middle of a busy city square without a stitch of clothing on. All this feckin’ rain wasn’t helping, either. Was there anything worse? Death was probably worse, but once it was over, you were free. But rain? It seeped into your clothes and socks. Settled into your bones.
Don’t even get me started on mud.
I hated wasting magic on creating a ward, but I hated wet socks more. And sitting in a tree waiting for the human to reach me ensured my boots remained mud-free. There was only one road in and out of Graystones, the fork just below my perch. I turned my head, listening with my good ear for the sound of hooves on wet earth.
There.
Coming this way. And fast.
I smiled. Not because I was excited about meeting the human again. What use did I have for another one of those? Still, something about her intrigued me. I traced my lips, thinking about the way they’d burned. Witch hazel? No. I’d have smelled it on her. Unless she concealed it in the rose oil she obviously used on her soft, supple skin—
A fat raindrop splatted on my forehead.
I shook away the fanciful thought, focusing on pouring more magic into my shield against the elements and on the increasing volume of the hooves, until a woman with golden hair and a billowing cloak came into view.
Just before she reached me, I sent a bolt of magic toward the horse, freezing its limbs.
The beast came to an abrupt halt, and the woman flew forward, damp curls slapping her cheeks. She looked around, presumably searching for what had spooked her horse.
She still hadn’t noticed me sitting right above her. Beautifulandunobservant. I kicked my feet in front of me. Her head swung around, and she had to catch herself on the saddle to keep from careening headfirst into the mud and cracking her skull.Nota fun way to die.
I catalogued the emotions flitting across her face: Confusion. Realization. Irritation.
“You never told me your name,” I said by way of greeting, cleaning a smudge from the top button on my waistcoat. How the hell had it gotten so dirty? Damned dusty shed. Next time Eithne said she wanted to meet, it’d be on my terms.
The woman’s chin lifted ever so slightly. “You never asked.”
Ah, yes. How rude of me. “My mouth was otherwise occupied.”
Despite the layer of makeup she wore, I could see her cheeks flush a deep, dusky rose. “My name is Lady Aveen Bannon, daughter of Lord Michael Bannon.”
Bannon. Bannon. Bannon.I’d heard that name somewhere. Shipping manifests, perhaps? No matter. I’d find out soon enough.Aveen. “Radiant beauty.”
Her eyes narrowed as they dragged from my hair to the soles of my boots. “Do you say that to all the women?”
“Only the ones called Aveen. It’s what your name means.”Living for eternity left one filled with such useless knowledge.
“And what does Oisin mean?”
Ah, so she’d caught Eithne calling me by the false name, which meant she’d been paying attention. “Oisin means ‘little deer.’ But that’s not my real name.”She may have seen my face, but knowing my name was an entirely different story.
The horse stamped its hoof, spraying mud across the already dirty hem on Aveen’s cloak. “It was a pleasure meeting you, not-Oisin,” she said. “But I’m afraid I must be on my way.”
The air between us sweetened. I’d have bet my boots she was lying.Before I could call her out, Aveen knocked her heels against the horse’s sides, and the beast lurched forward.
Wasn’t she the least bit intrigued by me? I was a feckin’ prince. Not that she would know that, but she could’ve gleaned that I was well off from the black waistcoat with solid gold buttons that I’d spent a fortune on. And I’d made it pretty feckin’ clear that I was powerful.
Did she not find me attractive? Was that the problem? Plenty of Danú women found me handsome. Not as handsome as my brother, but who could compete with a fantasy? I couldn’t even blame her dismissal on a bad glamour.