Page 51 of The Faceless Mage

She’d yelled at him. Contradicted him. Told him half her secrets and practically dared him to do something about it.

She might as well turn herself in to King Melger right now and confess to spying and magic and who knew what else. Just to save time.

But then again…

Who knew what the Raven would do with her revelations? He was not what everyone thought, and there was far more to him than dark magic, bitterness, and death. True, those were a part of him. And if she had any sense, she would no doubt be afraid for her life—terrified by everything he was and everything he represented. But she couldn’t be. Not anymore. Not after she’d reached through their bizarre link and touched the mind on the other side.

Whoever or whatever he was, when their minds connected, she sensed no violence or hatred directed towards her. There had been moments of shock and fury, yes, but also of curiosity and confusion. Even amusement. He was a living, thinking, feeling being, just like her, and he’d been subjected to unimaginable torment.

Their conversation changed everything. And it changed nothing. It turned her careful observations of Vaniell into so much smoke and illusion, and yet it returned no truths in the process.

If anything, it served to show her just how thin was the ice on which she walked. She was surrounded not only by enemies and deception, but by the darkest kind of magic imaginable.

So what did she do now? Had she gained enough information to conclude her mission? Enough to retreat to Farhall and declare the alliance too dangerous to continue?

She would have to be able to convince King Soren beyond all doubt. Pacing from one side of her room to the other, Leisa took careful stock of what she knew, what she suspected, and what she only guessed.

Where to even begin?

Her own mind was cluttered with questions about her enigmatic bodyguard, but he was only a part of the emerging picture, and potentially not even the most important as far as the alliance was concerned.

Even laying aside what someone had done to him, Leisa now knew for sure that Garimore was prejudiced against mages. Perhaps more so against boundary mages, but prejudice was a greedy mistress, and she would not stop simply because she got what she wanted. She would always want more. And as for mirror mages… Leisa’s mind slammed that question into a tiny little box, locked it, and threw away the key.

She also knew that Prince Vaniell was more than the flashy playboy he appeared to be, though she doubted that whatever he was hiding would count in his favor. He was as prejudiced as his father and could claim both profligacy and dishonesty amongst his other sins. Not to mention hypocrisy. There was simply no way he’d handed her this gem around her neck in complete ignorance of its nature. She suspected he’d merely intended to make it easier to keep an eye on her (while hoping she wouldn’t notice or find out), but there was no denying that he’d also created a magical bond between two people without their knowledge or consent. For a man who claimed not to care for mages, he seemed oddly eager to rely on their work.

But she wasn’t actually going to complain, because thanks to his hypocrisy, she now knew her bodyguard to be a prisoner. She also knew he believed her to be a spy, though whether he considered her a danger to Garimore was a trickier question. She suspected he might, but that he also made every effort to confound his captors by following his instructions only so far as he was bound to do. If they hadn’t specifically directed him to report information? He probably wouldn’t. At least, he hadn’t yet.

Perhaps she should be more worried about Melger finding out she’d referred to his younger son as a half-witted clothes horse, but she rather thought the king might agree with her on that point.

And whether the Raven was forced to report on her words or not, he was obviously not entirely in his master’s thrall. After all, he had deliberately ensured that Leisa would overhear sensitive information—information that King Melger would be very upset to discover she now possessed.

At least that was her hunch. Hardly a conclusion. And, like her other suspicions, she had little to no evidence.

Beyond that, she knew very little for sure.

Actually, that wasn’t true. She knew with absolute certainty that she could never approve of this alliance, even if King Soren did. While Vaniell might respect Evaraine on the surface, his other habits would mortify her, his court would very likely ostracize her, and his parents would disregard her wishes. Even after such a short time, Leisa could in no way tell King Soren that an alliance with Garimore would be anything but a complete disaster for his daughter, and that was reckoning without the consequences for Farhall itself.

Now for what she guessed…

This part was the hardest, because all of her guesses were terrifying.

She guessed that the Raven still believed she was Evaraine, but he’d known she was pretending about something. Most likely, he was referring to her magic—that Evaraine was only pretending not to have any—but Leisa didn’t dare stake her life on that guess, especially not when he’d accused her of being a spy. He was obviously perfectly well aware of her nighttime ramblings, and only refused to tell his master out of spite.

She also guessed that the reason Melger was impatient to get his hands on Farhall had more to do with mages than troops or economic concessions. Those would do him no good, but his sudden capitulation on several points seemed to indicate that he was unwilling to risk losing this alliance by offending her. No, he was far more eager for this than any material goods could explain, but if he truly hated and feared mages that badly? Might he marry off his younger son merely to gain a foothold from which to spread his prejudices and hunt them down?

Leisa guessed that he would, but a guess wasn’t good enough. She couldn’t go home with such nebulous theories and accusations. She needed proof—something she could give to Soren as a real reason why he ought to reject this alliance and find some other way to defend his borders.

But how could she stay and look for proof now that she’d admitted to her bodyguard that she was exactly as suspicious as he thought she was? Did she dare trust him to keep her secrets, even if only to defy his master?

There was no way forward without risk. No answer that didn’t leave open the possibility of devastating failure. But this was why she’d been sent, and now that she was in Garimore, Farhall would have to rely on her judgment as to which path had the greatest chance of success.

And finally, it seemed time to choose the path she was best at.

Sneaking.

Her “medicines,” thankfully, weren’t all for show. A few of them were very real—they just didn’t do what their labels insinuated.

Leisa’s traveling kit contained all the necessary supplies for letter writing, so after she penned a note, she sealed it with wax and summoned Lady Piperell from her room to order tea. Once it arrived, it was a simple matter to beg the older woman to join her, slip some sleeping drops into her cup, and wait for her to grow heavy-eyed.

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