Page 45 of The Faceless Mage

He slammed down his walls again, and as he did so, the princess hastily broke the link. She blinked several times and tried to pull herself together.

The Raven wasn’t sure what would have happened had a pair of footmen not entered the hallway some distance away and glanced towards them.

“I’m going to be late,” Evaraine said, obviously struggling to keep her voice level. “I must return to my room. Change. Luncheon with the queen.”

Whatever was between them seemed to dissipate, and the Raven found himself pointing towards the balcony. As if to say, “All is well, carry on.”

So she carried on. Wrapped up her doubts and questions and fears, made her way to her suite, and dressed for her luncheon. They arrived late to the luncheon, then were forced to go directly to her audience with the Minister of Finance, from which she was dragged to a dress fitting.

And through all of them, the Raven trailed silently behind her as though nothing had happened. As though he didn’t care one way or another what her future would bring.

He had never told himself a more audacious lie.

Despite all his efforts to the contrary, he’d begun to care very much indeed.

Chapter 13

Leisa couldn’t even begin to count the number of mistakes she made. Afterward, she had little memory of the no-doubt fascinating dissertation on the Garimoran economy, nor any idea what the queen had nattered on about for nearly two hours. She did recall dropping a teacup, stubbing her toe on a ceremonial suit of armor, calling the Minister “Sir,” and threatening to remove most of the flounces from her nascent ballgown with a pair of embroidery scissors.

But mostly, all she could do was try to prevent her fear and confusion from choking her. Try not to constantly look over her shoulder at the shadow that lurked behind her. Try to pretend that everything was all right, and she was feeling perfectly fine, thank you.

Nothing was all right, and she had no idea what she was feeling.

In the midst of her worry, she could sense the Raven hovering closer than ever, which only made it worse. She had no idea why he did so, and the uncertainty made her want to scream at him. Force him to talk to her. Or maybe just make an attempt on her life so she would know whether he had figured out the truth.

Whatever the truth was.

What sort of magic did Leisa have? Were the Five Thrones really all agreed that mirror mages were dangerous? And was this the real reason King Soren insisted she keep her magic secret? Because he thought she could be dangerous and intended to use her, or because he believed she would be the target of hatred and wanted to protect her?

She had no idea what to make of any of it. Melger had referred to mirror mages as monsters who dealt in deception, death, and destruction. Leisa had never imagined using her one silly little magic trick in any way that could be considered dangerous. Had no idea how that might be done. But she could do no magic outside of mirrors, so did that make her a mirror mage? Did that make her the kind of monster Melger intended to hunt down with an entire battalion and then murder with arrows from afar?

And why had she never heard any of this before?

Come to think of it, no one had ever really explained Leisa’s magic to her. She’d always assumed she was a life force mage, because every time she changed—especially anything that wasn’t her own body—it depleted her energy. But King Melger seemed to think otherwise.

And yet, as terrifying as it was to contemplate King Melger’s opinion of mages, what mattered far more at that moment was her bodyguard.

As Leisa made her way back to her rooms after the ballgown fiasco, she could barely manage to watch where she was going. Her entire focus remained bent on the shadowy figure trailing her through the halls.

She still had no idea who or what was under that armor, only that he was incredibly fast, silent, and strong. He wielded that enormous blade with deadly skill, or rather she assumed so given the proficiency he’d displayed thus far.

For now, he seemed to be protecting her, but she knew better than to trust him. He was huge and terrifying and could decapitate her with about as much effort as swatting a gnat.

And she had no idea what he was thinking. Only what he was feeling, and his emotions had seemed as tangled as her own. The only way to find out more would be to touch the gem again and… no. Just no. It was bad enough that she could sense some of his emotions without touching it at all.

But why had the Raven stopped her and held her against that wall? For the briefest moment, she’d had the absurd idea that he’d intended to kiss her. To her eternal embarrassment, her body had reacted as though that were about to happen. She didn’t even know for sure whether the Raven had lips, and anyway, he hadn’t exactly been focused on her face.

He’d been focused on shielding her.

But what could have been his reason? His only duty was to protect her, so why did it matter whether she’d crossed that balcony right then? Was it part of his orders to keep her away from sensitive conversations? If that were the case, he should have simply walked her right on by.

But he hadn’t. He’d stopped her—deliberately—and held her there while King Melger blew her world to pieces.

Had hewantedher to hear what the king said? Perhaps he’d been trying in a roundabout way to provide answers to the questions she’d posed to Vaniell. Or, perhaps he’d been forcing her to listen in hopes she would somehow reveal her secrets.

If the latter, she was already doomed. Leisa had no doubt her bodyguard could read the panic on her face. Could feel the terror and confusion that left her hands trembling even now, hours later.

Risking a quick glance back over her shoulder, Leisa confirmed that he was still there, still silent, still watching.

---