Iron Song

She sang to herself in the shade beneath a lone meadow tree, knitting needles clicking busily.

Insects buzzed around the flowers, masking the voices of her unseen watchers.

‘Her voice is beautiful,’ said one. ‘It will much please the Queen.’

‘Better not,’ another replied. ‘That humans have iron in their blood makes them dangerous enough; but those with iron in their hearts could bring down all of Faerie.’

‘And she has iron in her heart?’

‘Only listen to her song.’

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