The Faceless Woman_A Retelling of the Swan Princess

by Emma Hamm

  Aisling smoothed his ruffled feathers with a soft smile. “No. I think I like you enough to keep you around for a while yet.”

  He arched a brow. “A while?”

  “A woman has to keep a man wondering where things are going. I won’t make things easy for you.”

  With a snort, he turned back around and closed his eyes. “You’ve never been very good at that. I don’t think easy is in your vocabulary.”

  “And why should it be? I prefer to travel the brambled path.”

  “You’re more likely to have sticks stuck in your hair at the end of that journey.”

  “But it will be infinitely more interesting.”

  Gods, he could love this woman so easily. Bran reached behind him, picked her hand back up, and placed it on his head again. “Don’t stop.”

  “You like this?”

  “Hm.”

  She stroked her fingers through his hair without flinching when she touched the feathers. In this hour between dusk and midnight, Bran felt like a simple man. Nothing more than flesh and bone. Feathers didn’t matter because they didn’t matter to her.

  For once, he felt nearly whole as he fell asleep with her hand resting on his shoulder and his head laid against her side.

  The Last Journey

  Aisling crested the small hill, her feet sinking in spongy emerald moss that sprang back into place the moment she lifted her weight. It was as if she had never stepped up this hill at all. No footprints marked her journey.

  For a moment, she lost track of herself. She frequently found herself lingering upon memories of facelessness, of being someone who wasn’t real. Her greatest fear was that the curse would return tenfold, and she would be punished for attempting to remove it.

  To lose everything that had made her into a real person would strip away every happiness she had found.

  Shaking herself from the dark thoughts, she picked her way around granite stones. Her sister waited at the top of the munro that looked out over the sea.

  Her sister. Aisling had never thought to say those words again.

  She’d always known she had a family. Badb had made certain she was aware of that. They had left her, given her up, didn’t deserve to have any space in her mind. But she’d still thought of them.

  Who wouldn’t? Family was some mythical support system that would never harm you. She couldn’t remember anything of them in the beginning. Not even the slightest memory of her mother kissing her forehead or her father ruffling her hair.

  Those memories had come back as she aged. Little by little, the spell Badb had woven unraveled in her mind. She remembered them all too well now. She saw their cold expressions as they made her leave them forever.

  Elva appeared at the top of the rise. Her hair whipped around her, loose and tangled by the breeze. Legs spread in a confident stance, hands clasped behind her back, she was the picture of a warrior at attention.

  What had happened to the bubbling child she remembered? Aisling had looked up to her, she remembered that much. She didn’t recognize the woman before her and couldn’t reconcile that spoiled child with this stoic future.

  She should thank her for the borrowed clothing. Simple brown skirt, a tight bodice, nothing fanciful, but clothes that would suffice in meeting Unseelie royalty.

  “We’re leaving,” Aisling said as she reached her sister. “Thank you for the boat. It will be easier than creating a portal.”

  “You could stay, you know.” The breeze lifted a strand of golden hair and smoothed it across Elva’s cheeks. “It’s not a bad life here.”

  “And do what? Learn how to fight?”

  “It’s not a bad thing to know.”

  Aisling shook her head. “I’ve taken care of myself for years now, Elva. I don’t have any reason to remain here.”

  “We could be a family again. If you’d let us.”

  When she turned to look at her sister, Aisling saw there were tears in Elva’s eyes. How strange for the seemingly unshakeable woman to express such emotion.

  “A family?” Aisling tried to soften the words as much as possible. “That option was taken from us a long time ago.”

  “We can have it again. I never wanted to let you go. I cried for days after they sent you away, threw every tantrum I could, but they wouldn’t bring you back.”

  “That doesn’t change anything, Elva.”

  “It should!” Her shout was stifled by the wind, ripped away from her and dulled by the elements. “I lost you, and then I lost him, and then I lost everything because I thought I wanted a throne. I look at you two and I see…something. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know how to feel that way, and I think you might be able to teach me.”

  “That’s too much to lay at my feet.” Aisling reached out and took her sister’s hands. “No one can teach you that but yourself. You’ll learn again, I’m certain of that. But in the meantime, stop trying to rush the healing. You don’t have a cut that can be patched with a bandage. It will take a long time.”

  “It has been a lifetime.”

  “And it could be yet another lifetime, but you will endure. It is what we do.”

  Elva reached out and touched a finger to Aisling’s jaw. She followed the sharp line to her chin where she tapped the end. “You aren’t the creature I thought you would grow up to be.”

  “I became who I wanted. Know that I do not regret losing my family. It made me the witch I am. I would not trade that for the world.”

  Aisling saw recognition flare in Elva’s gaze. Not necessarily for the words, but something else that burned deep in her soul. Perhaps she had heard similar words before.

  They turned together and stared out to sea. It was a clear day, a good omen for the journey she, Lorcan, and Bran would make. Still, it was strange to say goodbye to family she had just found once again.

  The first moment she could, Aisling had cast a spell to watch her Seelie family. Her father had recognized it immediately and cast a counterspell. Her mother had disappeared from view too quickly for her to watch. But Elva had allowed her to watch for hours on end.

  Aisling had been captivated by the way Elva would brush her hair, the tiny sheets of gold that she would press to her face and make her skin glimmer. It had been like watching a princess every morning.

  Until she disappeared forever, and Aisling hadn’t been able to see her until now.

  She wished she could have more time. This was a woman she would like to know. Her past, her future, her story, all of it was infinitely precious. Aisling felt as though it was being ripped from her hands.

  “To love someone who cannot love themselves is a great and terrible burden,” Elva quietly said.

  Aisling looked out over the crashing waves. “Or it is a rare opportunity to show them that no matter what darkness lies heavy in their mind, someone else can always find their light?”

  “You really believe that?”

  “I have to.” She waited a moment, then turned her back on the sea. “I’d like to see you again when all is said and done.”

  “You shouldn’t trust him.”

  “Who?”

  “Bran. He’s not who you think he is, and you aren’t telling him the whole truth.” Elva reached out and plucked a white down feather from Aisling’s shoulder. “You need to tell him everything before you finish this journey.”

  “What, about the Raven King?”

  She wasn’t afraid of the truth. Aisling had spent her entire life under one curse or another. This was just another mountain in her path, and she would climb it.

  “You’re the consort to a very powerful creature. The Raven King isn’t even a faerie anymore. He’s something else, something darker, and you cannot run from him.”

  “So you say. I’ve been running my whole life from every person I’ve ever met.”

  “Illumina, he deserves to know.”

  “I gave up that name a long time ago.” Aisling swallowed hard, tucking her shaking hands into her skirts. “And what he doe
sn’t know won’t hurt him.”

  “If you’re afraid of hurting him, then are you really loving him?”

  “Love?” She shook her head. “Neither of us are capable of that. Besides, he’ll find out eventually. Maybe that will be our next adventure. Break the binding curse, then break the consort curse.”

  “It’s not possible. It’s not just a curse—it’s a vow. Magic has no control over what you were born to be.”

  Once again, Aisling shook her head. She refused to believe any of the words Elva was saying. There was always a way out. There was always a possibility to release herself from the chains of her past. She just had to find them.

  “I hope to see you again, sister,” Aisling choked out.

  “I’ll ask you one more time. Please stay.”

  Her heart was breaking. This was her first family member who would even speak to her. Elva had admitted to missing her, to not wanting her to leave, and every fiber of Aisling’s being said to stay. To see what would happen if she entertained the idea of family.

  But she couldn’t. Not yet.

  She shook her head, but didn’t trust her voice not to waver with emotion.

  Elva sighed. “It’s a shame. I don’t want to see you walk the same path I did.”

  “Why?” Aisling managed.

  “Because I’ve hardly recovered from it.”

  “Then I shall have to be stronger than you.”

  Keeping her head high, Aisling walked away from her sister and back down the Munro. She told herself not to cry. There was no reason to cry.

  Elva’s life might not have been the one she wanted, but that did not mean Aisling would repeat Elva’s mistakes. She couldn’t explain what she felt for Bran. It wasn’t love, or infatuation, or even the rose-glow beginnings of either. She felt in him a kindred spirit, someone else who had been afraid their entire life of what others thought of them.

  Every second with him was refreshing. He knew how to speak, how to act, how to be the kind of person who set her at ease. She could be a witch, and he would never build a pyre upon which to burn her thoughts, desires, and dreams.

  That was the difference between what Elva knew and what Aisling had experienced. Through all the lies and deceit, she would make sure that Bran remained in her life.

  The grass rustled beside her, parting to reveal a black fluffy body with hair tufted in all directions.

  “Lorcan!” she cried out. Aisling stooped and opened her arms for him, only breathing easy when he launched himself at her.

  With his furry body clasped to her chest, she felt invincible.

  “I was so worried about you,” she muttered into his neck. “Where were you?”

  “They don’t like men here.”

  “I’m not sure that extends to cats.” She laughed, hooked her hands under his armpits, and lifted him away from her. The grumpy expression on his face made her laugh even harder. “Where have you been?”

  “Trying to stay away from these women! They knew who I was immediately.” His fur bristled. “I tried to tell them I was nothing more than a cat, but that apparently wasn’t the right thing to say.”

  “My guess is saying nothing would have worked best.”

  “Probably. But they wanted to know where I came from, and I refuse to be thought of as a ship cat. They eat rats, you know.”

  “Your tastes are far more refined.” She stood with him in her arms, letting him drape himself over her shoulders like he had when she was a child. “What gave you away? The talking or your size?”

  “Are you suggesting I’m gaining weight?”

  “You’re heavier than I remember.”

  His paw stretched, flexing until the claws glistened in the afternoon sun. “Careful, witch. I’m right next to your throat.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  As they bantered back and forth down the hill, she felt her heart lift. Perhaps her old family wasn’t in her life, but was that really the end of the world? She had created a new family for herself. Two men who loved her, who had taken care of her, even risked their lives to make certain she was happy. So few could say that.

  Family wasn’t flesh and blood; it was the people who set her soul at ease and filled her lungs with air.

  Lorcan pressed his cold, wet nose against her cheek and asked, “We’re really going with him?”

  “Where else would we go?”

  “Anywhere. We’re in our world for now, even though it is the Isle of Skye. We could take the boat, flee across the ocean and find a portal, find the rest of your family. Make our own family. The possibilities are endless.”

  “I’ll still be cursed.”

  “You smell different.” Worry tainted his voice with bitter tones. “Not like yourself.”

  “I traded one curse for another.”

  “Breakable?”

  She shrugged a shoulder, jostling him. “Doesn’t seem likely, but I won’t just give up. The Raven King’s consort seems like a title for a lady, not for a witch.”

  “Well, if you can’t get out of it, he’s got another thing coming for him.” Lorcan paused, then leaned back enough to pat her with a paw. “Don’t worry. I don’t think Bran is the type to give up either.”

  “No, I don’t think he is.”

  They stepped off mossy green grass and onto the sandy shore at the base of the mountain. The air was cleaner here. Crisp, it burned her lungs every time she inhaled. Aisling savored the pain as she made her way toward the small boat where Bran stood staring at the waves.

  He was a dark smudge against the sun reflecting on the water. His form wavered, shimmering in the light, but always remaining the same. Never once had he hidden himself behind a glamour. He was as he looked. Beast and man melded into one mysterious figure who had stepped out of the shadows like an ancient god.

  He turned toward her, light silhouetting his body, and stretched out a hand. “Are you ready?”

  She placed her hand in his and let him guide her into the small boat. Lorcan disappeared underneath the benches, while sand and stones crunched under Bran’s feet as he shoved them into the waters.

  Aisling shaded her eyes and stared up the mountain to see her sister’s small form still as a statue. Elva lifted a hand in goodbye. A small piece of her soul would stay on the isle within a broken sister whose heart had been shattered too many times.

  Someday, she would return. Someday, she would build the relationship they should have had.

  Aisling just wished that day could be today.

  Bran hopped into the boat, set his hands onto the oars, and propelled them away from the island.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  Bran nodded at the isle slowly becoming smaller. “Family is odd, isn’t it? No matter how different we are, we want to love them.”

  “Speaking from experience?”

  “Too much,” he replied with a chuckle. “My family is the strangest of them all. You’ll meet them soon enough.”

  “I never knew what my family was really like. I watched them with spells sometimes, but I can’t say I actually know them.” She paused, then corrected herself. “Not that I remember really. There’s pieces and parts of memories, a past that seems like it came from a different person.”

  “I wish mine came from a different person,” he said with a snort.

  Aisling twisted her fingers in her lap. There was so much between them. And instead of saying anything, they let the space fill with the quiet gurgle of oars dipping beneath waves.

  Finally, she blew out a breath. “Bran, I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

  “I know,” he interrupted. A black feather drifted away from his head, hitting the water and dissolving into seafoam. “We both have secrets, Aisling. Just…let them be as they are until we’ve finished this. We’ll pick up the pieces then, come clean, say whatever it is we have to say.”

  “Let them remain until the curse is broken?”

  “Just a l
ittle while longer.” The sad smile on his face mirrored her own. “There’s so much I want to tell you.”

  “Then we will stay as we are for now.”

  “And start over when this is finished.”

  “Start over?” She arched a brow. “It’s a little late for that.”

  “Well, as much as we can. I intend to revisit part of this journey.”

  She propped an elbow on the edge of the boat, placed her chin on her fist, and cocked her head to the side. “What might that be, Unseelie?”

  The bright flash of his grin nearly blinded her. For a moment, Aisling let herself believe this could work. They would break the binding curse and ride off into the sunset, searching for a way to break her own curse. It was possible because they would make it possible.

  The waves splashed by them. The sun touched them with warm rays that didn’t ache or turn vividly hot. Gulls cried out overhead and then circled back toward the isle when they realized no fish would be caught.

  Every stolen moment was perfection, and she savored every second knowing it would all be ripped away.

  Water pinged the wooden planks of the boat. The sound was strange, unusual considering the waves were still placid. Aisling straightened and looked around them in suspicion. “Bran?”

  “Finally heard it?”

  She tried to stare him down as if she were brave but tightened her fingers on the edges of the boat. “I thought we were going to row back to Ireland and find a portal there.”

  “That would take us the better part of a month in a boat this small.” His raven eye wriggled in its socket. “There are faster ways to get home.”

  “Which are?”

  Bran released an oar and pointed over her shoulder. “Standing stones.”

  “We’re in the middle of the ocean.”

  “They pop up everywhere, you know. Portals are portals, regardless of where they form.”

  “And what does a standing stone portal look like when it’s created beneath the waves?” She already knew what he was going to say. The spray of saltwater flecked her face, and when she licked her lips, she could taste the sea.