The Masked Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods Book 1)

by Shari L. Tapscott

  I arch a brow. “For being the marquis’s arch-nemesis, you certainly know him well.”

  “It’s always wise to know your enemies.”

  “What will happen to Gustin?”

  “No more than what he deserves,” he says darkly.

  “You said the queen watches Lord Ambrose. What would she do if she thought he was acting out of kindness and not because I found a loophole in the agreement?”

  “She’d execute him,” he says without reservation.

  “Execute?” I demand, dropping my voice to a horrified whisper. “But you said he is her son.”

  “Without remorse, she has killed five husbands, her sister, her niece’s husband, and so many more. Whatever you may have heard about her in the human-occupied lands is a mere shadow of her wicked heart. She is truly the most wretched woman alive. Even the rulers of the other Fae courts refuse to have dealings with her. West Faerie is a dark place because she is its queen.”

  Suddenly, staying here doesn’t seem so wise.

  “Do you understand now?” he asks. “That’s why you must return to Kellington. Tell Lord Ambrose what you told me.”

  I set my hands on my hips, nodding to the wall that separates Brahm’s quarters and mine. “Should I tell him now?”

  Surprise flashes across the visible parts of the bandit’s face, and then he slowly nods. “If you wish.”

  “Do you think he’s in?” I prod.

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  I eye him with suspicion, wondering how fast he can hop across the balconies and change.

  I suppose I will test him.

  Without another word, I turn on my heel and walk swiftly into the hall.

  I knock on the marquis’s door, wondering how long it will take Brahm to answer.

  “Alice,” Regina says softly from down the hall. “Did you need something?”

  I frown when I realize her eyes are red and her face is pale. It looks like she’s been crying. What happened tonight? What is Brahm hiding from me?

  Carefully, I say, “I was hoping to speak with Lord Ambrose.”

  Grief passes over her face for a split second before she composes herself. “Tonight isn’t a good night.”

  I glance toward the door. “But…he’s in?”

  “I was just with him.”

  Stumped, I step away slowly. “I’ll speak with him tomorrow.”

  “I think that would be for the best. Would you like tea? I can have a pot brought up to you.”

  “I have some, thank you.”

  She continues walking, glancing at my face before she quickly looks away. “Have a good evening, Alice.”

  I watch her disappear down the hall, feeling flummoxed.

  When I open the door to my room, I find the bandit sitting on the chaise longue, staring at the ever-burning candles in the fireplace. “You weren’t gone long,” he says. “Did you speak to him?”

  “No,” I say slowly.

  I fully expected to find my room empty. I’m not sure what to make of his presence.

  He drums his fingers on his leg. “Tomorrow will be soon enough.”

  I study his handsome lines and muscular build. The only thing soft about him is his lips.

  Lips I’ve kissed.

  Lips I want to kiss again.

  I stand in front of him. “Even if Lord Ambrose gives me back my family’s estate, I will still ask to paint him.”

  The bandit looks up sharply. “Why would you delay returning home?”

  “I wouldn’t feel right leaving without offering something in return.”

  The bandit rises, his movements betraying his frustration. “Alice, you owe Lord Ambrose nothing. This was never your wager—it was between your brother and him. The fact that you’ve been affected doesn’t make you a party to the crime.”

  “I feel responsible for Gustin’s actions,” I argue. “He’s my brother.”

  “Gustin is—was—your guardian. It’s not the other way around. He is a grown man who had too much to drink and made a foolish decision in the heat of the moment.”

  “How do you know he’d been drinking too much?” I ask.

  The bandit looks startled. After a moment, he hedges, “Don’t all habitual gamblers drink while they are playing?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  I can only imagine what goes on in the places Gustin patronized.

  The bandit says, “It’s getting late, and I interrupted your sleep last night. I’ll let you rest.”

  “I slept well,” I say boldly. “Better than I have since I left home.”

  He pauses, looking back.

  “Stay a little longer,” I whisper.

  Glancing toward the window, he says reluctantly, “I can’t, Alice. It’s already past dark, and I haven’t done my rounds.”

  “Do you do them every night?”

  Slowly, he nods. “Most.”

  “You’re a good man. You know that, don’t you?”

  He smiles as he slips through the balcony door. “Goodnight, Alice.”

  I follow him out, wishing he would stay. He sits on the rail and swings a leg over the side, about to climb down.

  “Wait,” I say before he goes.

  He looks over, and the moonlight catches on his face as he turns.

  “For protection.” I lean forward and place a quick kiss to his cheek.

  “For protection?” he asks, sounding bemused.

  It’s an old tradition, usually implemented by grandmothers. Sadly, there is no actual magic in it or my parents wouldn’t be dead.

  “It’s just an old wives’ tale,” I explain, feeling a little ridiculous. “A kiss on the cheek for protection and luck. Haven’t you ever heard it?”

  He shakes his head as he crooks his finger, telling me to come close. My breath catches as I do as he asks.

  The bandit takes my chin in his fingers and brushes his lips over my cheek. “For protection and luck,” he whispers. “Sleep well, Alice.”

  He then swings from the balcony and onto the lattice, once more disappearing into the night.

  I go inside, feeling dazed. When I reach my bed, I sit and let my fingers drift over my cheek.

  It wasn’t a real kiss, but it was something.

  12

  ALICE

  I look at my reflection in the mirror, angling my head to the side, wishing I had something else to wear. Of the gowns Regina ordered, this pale gray is the nicest. It has a full skirt, a fitted bodice, and a low neckline that doesn’t make me look like a garden maid—or like I’m five years old. But it’s still very plain.

  Turning to the side, I press my hand to my stomach, biting my lip as I study my reflection, wondering if I will see anyone I know today. It’s possible.

  In fact, it’s likely.

  What will my old acquaintances think when they see me dressed like this? It doesn’t matter really, and I know it’s a vain thought. But I’m self-conscious nevertheless.

  Since we’re going into the city, I wear my hair up, held into place with a black satin ribbon that falls almost to my shoulders. I have no jewelry, no brooches or other adornments.

  Why didn’t I keep Grandmother’s ring with me? Why did I pack it?

  Now it’s gone, lost to the goblins. Everything else was boxed up and taken to the auction house.

  It’s amazing that a person’s life can change so drastically in such a short period of time. It’s a lesson you’d think I’d have learned by now, but it seems tragic things have a habit of catching me unaware.

  A knock sounds at my door, making my pulse jump. That will be Brahm.

  But when I answer the door, I find the marquis’s valet instead. Standing in a tailed jacket and tall hat, he bows his head. “I will be driving you and Lord Ambrose into Kellington today, miss. Is there anything you require for a more comfortable outing? It will be cold once we cross the bridge, so I’ve packed a blanket, and I believe Regina has requested the cook send you with a basket of light refre
shments.”

  I study him, momentarily caught off-guard by the offer. “That sounds fine. As long as we make it there and back without issue, I will be content.”

  He smiles, and his eyes linger on my face in the strangest way—as if maybe it hurts to look at me. “I expect Lord Ambrose will be ready shortly.”

  I nod, smiling though I’m a bit baffled by his concern. As he turns to leave, Brahm’s door opens.

  The marquis pulls on his jacket as he steps out, pausing in the hall when he spots us. A quiet smile crosses his face, and he gives me a greeting nod that touches raw places in my heart. “Are you ready, Miss Alice?”

  “I believe so.”

  Wallen excuses himself, saying he’ll go ahead and make sure the horses have been prepared.

  I am left alone with Brahm. With his eyes never leaving my face, the marquis offers his arm. His dark brown hair is perfectly combed, and there’s not a wrinkle or speck of lint upon his clothing. Everything about him proclaims power and nobility.

  My gaze moves to the steel dagger at his side. It’s Fae-crafted, with the hilt wrapped in leather to protect the wielder from the metal.

  “Do you expect trouble?” I ask when he catches me looking at it.

  Brahm lets out a soft snort. “I always expect trouble.”

  “Perhaps if I adopted your mindset, I wouldn’t be surprised by it so often.”

  His arm stiffens under my fingers. Looking straight ahead, he says, “While you are with me, I won’t let trouble touch you.”

  “Yes, but you have a bad habit of trying to send me away.”

  Quietly amused, Brahm looks over, and our eyes meet. It’s a gaze I’m beginning to know well, one that even a mask cannot hide.

  I want to ask him why he insists on hiding himself from me—ask him if he thinks I’m so unobservant that I can’t tell that he and the bandit are the same man.

  It’s not because he doesn’t play his parts well—he does. Brahm is controlled and reserved. His tone is usually indifferent, and it’s always careful and cultured.

  The bandit, however, is dashing. He’s familiar and comfortable. And I suspect he’s real.

  I believe the bandit is Brahm’s true identity. The only way he found freedom to be himself was under a mask, and it hurts my heart just thinking about it.

  What would it be like to have a mother who would execute you for the slightest misstep? To have a life so caged, you must create a different persona simply to survive?

  We reach the carriage, and Wallen opens the door.

  “Thank you,” I murmur to Brahm as he offers his hand to steady me while I step inside.

  I twist my hands in my lap once I’m seated, suddenly anxious. The walls of the carriage feel as if they’re closing in on me, and I draw in a shaky breath.

  “Alice?” Brahm says as he sits across from me. “Are you all right?”

  “I haven’t been in a carriage since…”

  It’s not as if the incident will happen twice, and besides, I have Brahm with me now. But the memory of waking in the abandoned carriage comes back with perfect clarity, and the nearby smell of wild roses doesn’t help.

  “Did you ever find my coachman and his horses?” I ask Brahm. “Regina said she’d mention it to you.”

  He shakes his head, looking apologetic. “I did not.”

  “It was still daytime when he disappeared,” I say quietly. “I always understood Faerie is safe until dark.”

  “Humans are not to be touched on the roads during the daylight hours. But it’s apparent something disregarded the law.”

  “Then…why was I unharmed?”

  “As I said before, the forest must favor you. It protected you, Alice.”

  “Do even the creatures obey the queen?” I ask, unnerved by this strange kingdom.

  “Only the sentient ones. But the rest can sense the royal family’s magic, and their will can be made to bend if confronted.”

  “Are there many sentient creatures?” I ask quietly, disturbed at the thought. “More than just the goblins?”

  Brahm suddenly laughs, and then he chokes his mirth back at my horrified look. “Yes, Alice. There are many.”

  “Are all of them wicked?” I whisper.

  He slowly shakes his head. “No, but those that are have thrived under the current rule. The others keep to themselves.”

  Unsure how to respond, I stare at my lap.

  “You’re safe with me,” he says yet again, his eyes falling on my white knuckles. “Nothing can touch you while you’re in my care.”

  “Nothing but your mother,” I point out.

  Though he doesn’t look surprised, he studies me. “You know.”

  I nod, wondering if it’s a good time to tell him what else I know.

  “Luckily, my mother wants very little to do with me,” he says. “She requests my attendance at her moonlit masquerades once a month, and that is plenty for us both. As long as I do not ignore her summons, she rarely visits.”

  Rarely.

  The word feels ominous, but I nod as if relieved.

  Deciding it’s time to change the subject, Brahm crosses his arms. “Where shall we eat? It’s my first time going into Kellington with someone who knows the city well.”

  “You’ve never had a human woman on your arm before?” I say skeptically.

  Brahm meets my gaze, smiling with his eyes alone. “Never willingly. There have been several I’ve been forced to shake off.”

  Trying not to smirk, I turn toward the window. “You must forgive them. Your people have quite the reputation after all.”

  Brahm leans forward slightly. “Do we? And what might that reputation be?”

  As if he doesn’t know.

  I boldly meet his eyes. “People say Fae men are wickedly romantic. Others claim your kisses are intoxicating. I can’t imagine there’s a human girl alive who hasn’t passed a Fae man on the street and didn’t wonder what it would be like to have him woo her.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “Even you, Alice?”

  I shrug as a smile toys at my face, refusing to answer.

  “I’m afraid it’s nothing but a rumor,” Brahm says with a dismissive wave. “There are as many unromantic Fae men as there are human ones, and there is nothing about our magic that would have that effect. But I find the thought flattering nevertheless.”

  “Perhaps it’s because you’re all so handsome. It would be a shame to have a face like yours and not be at least a little romantic.”

  “You think I’m handsome?” Brahm asks, his amusement finally shining through his facade.

  “How could I not? But don’t worry—you’re safe from my advances. I fancy someone else.”

  His forehead creases. “Someone else?”

  “I met him before I came to your estate,” I admit, observing him carefully.

  “Who is this man?”

  “Just a…human.”

  “Why didn’t you go to him instead of coming to me when your brother lost your home?” Brahm demands.

  I almost smile. “It’s complicated, but I don’t think he wants me. Even when we’re close, I feel like he’s pushing me away.”

  Brahm stares at me. His eyes narrow, and he opens his mouth even though it seems he’s been struck mute.

  “I wish he would trust me.” I lean forward. “He would learn that I’m painfully loyal to those I care about.”

  Slowly, Brahm nods. “Perhaps he has his reasons.”

  “Perhaps.” I sit back. “And I will respect that.”

  “You will?” he asks, startled.

  “I don’t want to.” I wrinkle my nose. “But I will.”

  After another heavy moment, Brahm laughs as if uncomfortable and rubs the back of his neck. “We’ve gotten off subject. You never told me where you would like to eat.”

  The teahouse is slow early in the afternoon, as I knew it would be—that’s why I picked it. If I was the subject of gossip before, just imagine how people’s tongues will wag
when they see me dining with the man who locked up my brother.

  Even I wonder if I’m being disloyal to my family in some way, but I’m not allowing it to bother me too much. I have too many legitimate concerns to give that much thought.

  I recognize the hostess immediately. Callie’s eyes widen when I step inside with Brahm, and she hurries forward to greet us. We are casual friends, though she works too often to be close—another reason I chose this establishment. She’s the youngest daughter of a local businessman, sweet and rational, and I know she’s not likely to spread rumors.

  “Alice!” she exclaims.

  Her eyes flutter to Brahm before she gives me a very subtle questioning look.

  “Everyone says you disappeared. We thought you went to stay with family after…” Her expression softens. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  “Hello, Callie.” I glance around and find other curious eyes watching us. I don’t recognize any of the patrons, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they don’t recognize me. “Brahm, this is my childhood friend, Callie. Callie, I’d like to introduce you to Lord Ambrose.”

  Her face goes slack. Apparently, she knew he was a Faerie, but she didn’t realize which Faerie.

  Brahm inclines his head toward her. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Visibly shaking herself out of her stupor, she drops into a curtsy. “Glad to meet you as well. Shall I seat you in the main room, or would you prefer something private?”

  “Private, please,” I say immediately. It’s another reason I chose the teahouse.

  “Of course.”

  As we follow Callie through the room, Brahm leans close and whispers, “Embarrassed to be seen with me, Alice?”

  I turn to him, ready to defend myself, but I stop short when I see the unexpected humor shining in his eyes. Instead of answering, I nudge his shoulder, wordlessly telling him to behave.

  We walk past a grizzled, older man roughly the size of a bear who’s dining with a petite woman who I assume is his wife. He watches us, narrowing his eyes at Brahm with a fruit danish halfway to his mouth.

  The next table holds three young women, all dressed for a day on the town. They, too, watch Brahm, but their eyes are hungry, and they look seconds from leaning their heads together and giggling like young girls.