Though Sabine whimpers, her eyes flash. She looks like an injured, cornered animal about to attack.
“Get up,” Marison commands, flicking her fingers into the air.
Like a marionette moving against her will, Sabine rises. She cries in pain, gasping as she writhes back and forth, trying to fight her mother’s control.
Brahm and Drake yell, dragging their guards forward to intervene, but the men catch their footing and pull them back.
“Look what you did to her, Brahm,” Queen Marison says, holding her daughter hostage by magic.
The princess trembles with agony, but her sobs are pure anger.
“You’re just like your father—turning your back on your family for a human.” Queen Marison shakes her head and walks up to her daughter. “It hurts, doesn’t it? Do you regret protecting him now?”
“No,” Sabine snarls, still fighting her invisible bonds.
“Then I don’t believe you’ve learned your lesson.” Turning her back on Sabine, the queen walks toward Regina and me. She stoops low before she reaches us, using a corner of her skirt to protect her hand as she picks up the letter opener. With a sickeningly sweet smile, she asks, “May I use this for a moment?”
“No!” I yell, but Regina yanks me back.
“Take it,” Marison says to the princess.
Sabine cries, shaking her head violently even as her hand reaches for the small tool. She screams when her fingers wrap around the metal handle, and both Brahm and Drake roar with anger.
“That’s enough,” Marison finally says, and Sabine opens her hand.
The letter opener falls to the ground with a clatter.
“What about now?” Marison asks. “Do you regret lying for Brahm?”
Tears stream down Sabine’s face, and she shakes. Blood drips from her hand, falling onto her ivory gown. Even still, the princess’s face scrunches with unadulterated loathing as she barely manages a whispered, “No.”
Marison’s eyes narrow, and something chilling crosses her face. Too calmly, she says, “Very well.” She looks back at Brahm. “This is your fault, do you understand? Just as it was your father’s fault that Drake betrayed me.” Then, to the guards, she says, “Don’t let them turn away.”
Regina whispers a frantic, “Please, no.”
As if she’s bored of a game and no longer wishes to play, Queen Marison says, “Sabine, I have no use for you anymore, and I cannot allow such a pathetic creature to inherit my throne. Pick up the letter opener and stab it into your heart.”
Too many people yell at once, but it all becomes a blur. I yank from Regina’s hold and run across the room, snatching the letter opener half a second before Sabine can take it.
I whirl around to face the queen, prepared to fight even though I know I can’t win. But I’ll die trying—for Brahm. For Regina and Drake and poor Sabine.
And for Eleanor, my parents, and everything my family has been through because of this woman’s wickedness.
“ALICE!” Brahm yells, fighting like a caged bear.
But it’s too late for him to save me. Marison surges forward, gathering magic like a sickly cloud around her. Voices scream, dark things that lurk in nightmares.
I lunge forward, prepared to slay the monstrous woman, when she casts her magic at me full force. The world goes pitch-black as the darkness surrounds me. I scream, never having felt agony like this in my life. The magic rips me apart with its icy tentacles, feeling like it’s rooting around in the depths of my being, looking for my soul. I fall to the ground, curling up in a feeble attempt to protect myself.
And then…it’s gone. I open my eyes to find I am in one piece, no sign of the attack marring my body.
And the scream is no longer mine.
Gasping, I push myself up on trembling arms, watching in horror as Marison’s magic engulfs her. She writhes and yells, and everyone in the room watches, helpless.
Suddenly, the black magic dissipates, and the voices go quiet. The queen falls to the ground, eyes open, crumpling like a discarded doll.
28
BRAHM
The guards drop me as soon as my mother falls, apparently free of whatever bond she has been using on them. Horrified, the changeling edges toward the door.
“Drake!” I yell on impulse, “Catch him!”
Drake races for the changeling, tackling him to the ground. Then he looks up, eyes wide, as we both realize what just happened.
I spoke to my brother for the first time in ten years.
Regina kneels, taking Sabine in her arms, rocking my sister as they both cry.
And Alice.
She sits on the floor, staring at my mother as if in shock. She still holds the letter opener like a dagger, even though the metal shakes in her fist.
I race to her, stumbling to the floor as I grab her shoulders.
“Are you all right?” I demand, looking her over, my hands traveling over her face.
She nods numbly, finally pulling her eyes to the letter opener in her hand. Immediately, she tosses it away, shivering. Her voice wavers as she asks, “What happened?”
“Mother’s magic ricocheted back at her,” Drake says heavily. He looks at me. “The illanté tether protected Alice.”
I look down, realizing the golden band of magic no longer rings Alice’s wrist. “It’s gone.”
She rubs her skin as if somehow sensing it as well. “I was linked to you, but I made the vow with your mother. And now…”
We all turn to the fallen queen.
“Is she…?” Sabine croaks.
Reluctantly, I rise. After a deep bolstering breath, I kneel and press my fingers to Mother’s wrist.
“She’s not dead,” I say wearily.
Suddenly, Mother flinches, crying out in her unconscious state. Her eyes move, unfocused, and her face contorts with horror.
“What’s wrong with her?” Alice demands, edging away.
Repulsed, I close Mother’s eyelids. “She’s suffering the effects of whatever spell she intended to use on you.”
The room falls quiet.
“What do we do with her?” one of the guards asks.
I shake my head, choking as I try to control a wave of intense nausea. “Take her back to the castle. She’ll pass away, or she’ll wake. Only time will tell.”
Nodding, several guards step forward, scooping the queen’s lifeless body into their arms.
Another guard turns to me, understandably nervous. “Your Highness, we—”
“I know,” I say heavily. “We all know. There is no need to apologize.”
Solemnly, he nods and joins the others.
I walk toward the changeling, wondering what we’re going to do with him. “Where did you leave Wallen?”
“In a pit in the woods.” He enunciates the words very slowly as if I’m dimwitted. “Didn’t we already have this conversation?”
“How long ago did you abduct him?”
How long have I been blaming Wallen for something he didn’t do?
The man looks up at the ceiling, thinking. “A month ago, maybe a little more. About the same time you and your pet got cozy in her family’s estate.”
I resist the urge to strike him.
“Hold him,” I say to the guard. “We’ll need his help to locate Wallen. Then we’ll deal with him.”
Alice slowly stands, though she’s wobbly. I take her arm to steady her. Once I’m sure she’s all right, I go to Sabine.
I kneel in front of my sister, at a loss for words.
“Stop,” she says raggedly. “This was not your fault, so don’t you dare apologize.”
“Thank you for protecting us.” I frown at her hand. Because the tool was copper, she’ll bear the scar for the rest of her life. “You are—”
“Brave and strong.” She leans against Regina’s shoulder. “You’ve told me.”
I try to smile, but it’s painful. “I was going to say a fool, but you’re those things as well.”
“I would
have been able to defeat her if I hadn’t tried to lie,” she says bitterly.
“I know.”
Drake joins us, and for just a few minutes, we draw strength from each other.
Alice hangs back, giving us time, smiling as quiet tears roll down her cheeks.
Looking truly terrified, Sabine whispers, “Do you think she’ll wake up?”
“I hope not,” Regina says darkly.
Until Mother draws her last breath, we will live in fear of the queen.
“Help me up, Drake,” Sabine says.
Drake immediately steps in, looking a little overwhelmed. She smiles at him, crying again. “I just said your name—right to your face.”
“Sabine…” He looks like he’s about to lose his composure.
“I feel just awful.” She cries freely now. “But I’m so happy.”
Drake pats her shoulder and gives her a tight smile.
“Take Sabine to her room,” I say to Regina. “She needs rest to heal.”
Regina nods, and the two of them begin down the hall.
I turn to Drake, exhaling deeply. He studies me with a guarded expression, not yet sure what to do with himself. Laughing a little, I clasp his shoulder. “All these years, I’ve wanted so badly to talk to you. Now that I can, I don’t know what to say.”
He laughs, trying not to show weakness even though he looks close to his breaking point.
Alice steps up next to me, and I immediately pull her to my side.
“Thank you,” Drake says to her solemnly. “You’ve saved us.”
Looking dead on her feet, she answers, “I didn’t actually do anything.”
“You stood up to her,” I say. “Alice, no one has dared do what you did in ten years.”
“And we are grateful.” Drake bows to her.
My staff has finally dared to enter the room, and they gasp at the gesture.
Though Alice likely doesn’t know, a Fae prince bows to no one, and yet Drake is here, showing such reverence to a human girl. They exchange looks, unsure what to make of it.
“Where’s Ian?” I ask suddenly, realizing the count has slunk away.
We search for him, but it’s to no avail. He likely bolted the moment Mother fell.
“Come on,” I say to Alice. “You need to rest as well.”
She agrees without protest.
To Drake, I say, “I’ll be down shortly. I’d appreciate it if you went with me to find Wallen.”
Drake gives me a solemn nod.
As I walk Alice down the hall, she reminds me, “Sabine is in my room.”
“I’m not taking you to Sabine’s room—I’m taking you to ours.”
“Our room.” She suddenly smiles and leans against my side. “Doesn’t that sound lovely?”
Holding her a little tighter, I finally let myself feel a trickle of relief. “It truly does.”
29
ALICE
The Fae of West Faerie don’t believe in burying those who have passed. Instead, their ceremony consists of cremation and the scattering of ashes. From the earth, to the earth.
I stand at the edge of a ravine with Brahm’s close family, listening as he gives Wallen’s eulogy. There’s grief in my husband’s voice, both due to the passing of a man he was close to and the lingering shame of believing that faithful friend betrayed him.
Regina cries openly, and Sabine and Drake simply bow their heads.
It’s a somber occasion, quiet and thoughtful. Even the forest seems to understand we’re in mourning. The only sound is the gentle rustling of leaves. The birds, too, are silent.
Finally, Brahm opens the urn and tips it over the ledge. The breeze catches the ashes, sending them swirling in the air as they fall.
And then, they are gone.
Brahm turns to me, offering his hand. We walk back to the estate as a group, not speaking until we reach the entry steps.
“What comes next?” I ask quietly, unsure of Faerie funeral traditions.
Brahm turns to me, giving me a sad smile. “Now we move on.”
30
ALICE
TWO MONTHS LATER
“You just yawned,” I accuse Brahm, looking at him from the side of the canvas.
We’re in my studio in our estate in the Rose Briar Woods, and it’s the perfect time of day, when golden afternoon light streams through the large glass windows.
“A yawn? Are you sure?” Brahm grins as he covers his mouth again.
I point my brush at him. “You just did it again!”
He laughs. “How much longer?”
“I’m almost done,” I promise.
“You said that an hour ago.”
I carefully dip the brush in cerulean and then dab it onto the canvas. “And an hour ago, I truly believed that’s all it would take.”
But now—now it is finished.
I step back, critiquing my work. I’ve gotten a little rusty in the last four months, but I’m happy with it nevertheless.
“All right.” I set the brush aside. “Come look.”
Brahm steps up behind me, absently brushing my hair aside as he loops his arms around my waist and presses a kiss to my neck. “It’s worth the boredom.”
I angle my head to look at him. “You like it?”
“I love it.” He kisses me before resting his chin on my shoulder.
“I still think you should have let me paint you with your mask.”
He chuckles like I’m ridiculous and then turns me in his arms. I melt into him, still feeling a thrill every time he kisses me.
We stay like this until the studio door opens.
Brahm casually steps away when Regina walks into the room.
She carries a letter, and she offers it to me as she stops to look at the portrait. “You’re quite talented, Alice. How did you manage to paint yourself into the picture with Brahm?”
“I used a mirror.”
“It’s very lifelike,” she says.
“Who’s the letter from?” Brahm asks me, even though I only receive them from one person.
“Gustin,” I answer absently as I quickly read my brother’s ramblings. “He’s in Algora. Apparently, he made a lucky bet at a horse race, and he’s ‘struck it rich.’ He says he’ll send me something pretty.”
Brahm shakes his head. “Some people never learn their lesson.”
I carefully fold the letter and set it aside. “I’m glad he’s doing all right.”
Maybe someday, we’ll make amends. Right now, occasional letters are enough.
“Drake is here as well,” Regina says. “He didn’t want to disturb Alice while she was painting. He said he’d wait in the conservatory.”
“This needs to dry,” I tell Brahm. “Why don’t we go find him?”
We walk hand in hand through the halls, not bothering to hide our relationship. Enough people in the household heard about our marriage. The news of the handsome prince marrying the human girl who defeated the wicked queen is traveling through West Faerie like wildfire.
I can’t say I mind all that much.
When we enter the conservatory, we find Drake standing near a bush filled with crimson roses. He stares at it thoughtfully, only glancing at us briefly as we enter.
“You’re early,” Brahm says. “Did you leave at the break of dawn?”
Drake nods, keeping his eyes averted. “I did, actually.”
He’s still not comfortable with people talking directly to him, but he’s slowly healing.
“How is Sabine?” I ask.
“She’s growing restless,” Drake admits. “I believe she knows her coronation is imminent, and she’s beginning to panic.”
It’s been several months, and Queen Marison still sleeps, trapped in the nightmare of her own creation. The Fae physicians predict that even if she were to wake at this point, her mind would be addled.
The kingdom is in a state of waiting, expecting the golden princess to take the throne any day now. Sabine has already been ruling in the int
erim, making changes her mother certainly wouldn’t approve of—including one dear to my heart.
As long as they secure a traveling permit from one of the Fae border villages, visiting humans are now protected for a week instead of a day. It’s a start, though I’m confident the crafty Fae will discover a few loopholes that they love so much.
But because of it, Brahm has been able to retire his mask. There are now Faerie guards patrolling the thoroughfares, assisting travelers when they find themselves in a tight spot.
“When you go back, tell Sabine we’ll visit after we return from Kellington,” Brahm says.
We’re going to spend a week in my family estate, celebrating the Spring’s Eve festival that begins tomorrow. It’s been a little strange, splitting our time between West Faerie and Valsta, but I appreciate that Brahm is eager and willing to embrace human traditions for my sake.
Not only will I never miss a holiday, but I’ll never have to spend one alone.
Drake nods, still looking a bit absent as he runs his finger over a velvet petal. “Do you think…” He pauses, looking like he’s not sure he’s going to finish the thought. After a moment, he goes on, “Do you think there’s a chance Eleanor is out there? Somewhere?”
I share a glance with Brahm.
“I don’t know,” I say gently.
As soon as his curse was lifted, he began looking for my sister, asking anyone and everyone for information. So far, the search has been fruitless.
“We were so close to the border,” he says. “Could she have made it the rest of the way on her own? Is it even possible?”
No one has the answer to his question, but I hope he might find it one day. Even a confirmation of Eleanor’s death would give him closure.
Give us all closure.
We study the roses for a time, each lost in our thoughts, and then Drake suddenly looks up. “Oh, I just remembered. Why is there a pile of rubbish outside the front gate?”
“A pile of rubbish?” Brahm asks.
Drake nods. “Random things—old dresses and ribbons, shoes, undergarments. A filthy palette and several ratty-looking brushes.”
The Masked Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods Book 1) Page 23