Page 33 of The Faceless Mage

Until the princess opened her mouth.

“Thank you,” she said. Her words were soft and tentative, as if she wasn’t quite sure what she was thanking him for.

But it hardly mattered. Yet again, she’d confounded him, and because she wore Vaniell’s gem, it was impossible to doubt her sincerity. Her simple words pierced his defenses—she was genuinely grateful, and yet still unsure…

Then he saw her lifting one hesitant finger towards the jewel still resting on the lapel of her dressing gown. When she touched it gently, it still burned her. He could feel her discomfort, but she pressed past it, back to the point where his magic and hers seemed able to regard one another.

And then she pressed still further, until she found…him.

She saw him—not his magic this time, but his very self. And she felt him, in the same way he could feel her, and it startled him so profoundly that he lashed out.

He confronted her so swiftly that she barely had time to leap away, could only scramble backward until her back collided with the wall.

Holding her pinned with his invisible gaze, he stalked nearer, knowing only that he needed to frighten the princess into retreating and never coming that close again. No one could ever be allowed to see, to know, what he was. What he’d become. The darkness he’d been compelled to embrace.

The truth of his slavery was too ugly, and it made him furious to think that she might have sensed it.

But even once she stopped, unable to back away any farther, he kept moving forward. Kept moving nearer. He could see the tremor in her chin. Hear the panicked breaths she tried to contain.

Until suddenly, her panic seemed to drain away.

Even with him looming over her, she’d somehow relinquished her terror.

Or was she only pretending?

The Raven drew in a deep breath through his nose, bracing himself against the stench of her fear, but it was completely gone.

What could have happened?

Her green eyes raised to meet the slits in his mask and her eyebrows drew down in what looked startlingly like annoyance.

“Stop that,” she snapped.

The Raven regarded her with stunned surprise.

“I very much appreciate you stepping in to stop those guards, but I won’t be smelled like I’m something you might prefer to eat.”

Good grief, she didn’t actually think he ate people, did she? That rumor had certainly made the rounds more than once, but her lack of fear indicated she didn’t take it seriously.

She touched her finger to the gem again, and this time, their connection was nearly instantaneous. She was curious. Frustrated. Exhausted. And… not remotely intimidated.

And he couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t fully grasp it, let alone decide how he ought to respond.

But he could at least acknowledge that to an outside observer, there would undoubtedly be something amusing about the picture they presented—a tiny, slender princess glaring up at a giant, nightmare warrior without a trace of fear.

As if she could command him with a twitch of her finger.

But the true difficulty was, so long as she wore that gem, she probably could. And if she ever discovered that potential?

It hurt him to think of it.

He didn’t even know why, only that it made him recoil inside to think of her learning what the gem was actually capable of.

“I should… I should retire,” she said, stuttering slightly and looking away. As if recalling that he was supposed to make her nervous, and that shy, magic-less Evaraine should be justifiably terrified of a creature like him.

“Will you be staying in here or standing guard outside?” she asked, then sucked in a quick breath as her entire expression changed. “Wait, when do you sleep? Will someone be taking your watch for part of the night, or do you just…” Her voice trailed off.

And yet again, the Raven experienced surprise.

---