Read Rosemary and Rue for Free Online

light. Dawn damages wards, but it usually takes three or four days to destroy them completely. I dug for my keys. “You have the ‘privilege’ of annoying the crap out of Toby Daye, who isn’t interested in your titles, or whatever it is you’re selling. Go away, kid, you’re bothering me.”
    “So you are the Lady Daye?”
    Eyes on the door, I said, “It was Sir Daye, when it was anything at all.”
    “I’m here on behalf of Duke Sylvester Torquill of Shadowed Hills, protector of—”
    I turned to cut him off before he could launch into a full recitation of Sylvester’s titles and protectorates. Holding up my hand, I hissed, “This is a human neighborhood! I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, and frankly, I don’t care. You can take your message and your on-behalf-of back to Shadowed Hills, and tell Sylvester I’m still not interested. All right?”
    The kid blinked, looking like he had no idea what he was supposed to say. My reactions didn’t fit inside his courtier’s view of the world. I had a title, one that had clearly been awarded to me for merit, rather than out of courtesy, if I was insisting on the use of “sir” over “lady.” Changelings with titles are rare enough to be conversation pieces, and changelings with titles they actually earned are even rarer; as far as I know, I’m the only changeling to be knighted in the last hundred years. I had a liege, and not an inconsequential or powerless one at that. So why was I refusing a message from him? I should have been turning cartwheels of joy just to be remembered, not blowing off a Duke.
    “Perhaps you misunderstand . . .” he began, with the sort of exaggerated care that implied he was speaking to a child or a crazy person. “I have a message from Duke Torquill, which he has tasked me to—”
    “Sweet Lady Maeve protect me from idiots,” I muttered, turning back to the door and jamming my key into the lock. The wards glared an angry red. “I know who your message is from. I just don’t care. Tell Sylvester . . . tell him anything you want. I got out of that life, I quit that game, and I’m not listening to anymore messages.”
    I waved my free hand and the glare died, replaced by the grass-and-copper smell of my magic. Good. No one had broken in. Someone who didn’t have the key could open the door without breaking the wards, but not without voiding the spell woven into them, and even a master couldn’t replicate the flavor of my magic that exactly. I couldn’t mistake one of Tybalt’s spells for one of Sylvester’s anymore than I could mistake sunset for dawn. That’s the true value in wards; not keeping things out, but telling you if something’s managed to get in .
    “But—”
    “But nothing. Go home. There’s nothing for you here.” I shoved the door open and stepped inside.
    “The Duke—”
    “Won’t blame you for failing to deliver this message. Trust me on this one.” I paused, suddenly tired, and turned in the doorway to face him. He looked very lost. It was almost enough to make me feel sorry for him. “How long have you been with Sylvester’s court?”
    “Almost a year,” he said, confusion shifting into sudden wariness. I couldn’t blame him for that. I hadn’t been exactly pleasant.
    “Almost a year,” I echoed. “Right. That explains why you drew the short straw. Look: I am a knight in the service of His Grace. That’s true. I can’t make him release my fealty. But unless he gives me a direct order, I don’t have to listen. Did he send you here with a direct order?” The kid shook his head, silent. “That’s what I thought. Tell him I appreciate him thinking of me, and I’d appreciate it even more if he’d stop.” Almost gently, I shut the door in his face.
    The knocking started less than a minute later. I groaned. “Root and branch, don’t some people know how to take a hint? I’m not interested!” The knocking continued.
    Swearing under my breath, I shrugged out of my