Page 52 of The Faceless Mage

“I’m so sorry, Your Highness,” Lady Piperell mumbled eventually. “I seem to be yawning after every second word.”

“I’m sure it’s been a trying day,” Leisa said kindly, feeling a little guilty for the deception. “My day was exhausting as well, and I’m sure I haven’t done half as much as you.”

“Oh, no,” she protested. “I’ve quite enjoyed it. Looking after you is no trouble, and it’s been a pleasure getting to know your…”

She stopped. Blushed. And yawned again.

“Zander is quite attractive, isn’t he?” Leisa was thankful the other woman didn’t make her drop hints. Or elaborate. “You know, I can’t help but be concerned for my guard. I wish I knew whether their quarters were comfortable and if they have everything they need.”

“Oh, quite comfortable,” Lady Piperell said, reaching down to take off her shoes. “They’re in the old north wing of the barracks, just off the rear courtyard. It’s been refurbished and fitted with indoor bathing facilities, and the kitchen there is well staffed.”

“That’s a relief.” Leisa beamed at her as she slowly tilted sideways until her head rested against the arm of the settee and her eyes began to close. “Thank you for setting my mind at ease.” And for making this all so much easier.

Once Lady Piperell was bundled off into her bed—in her clothes, as she was far too sleepy to change into her nightgown—Leisa rummaged guiltily through the older woman’s wardrobe. She needed a dress that was expensive and elaborate enough not to appear out of place at an evening party, but nondescript enough to blend in. Which seemed apt to describe nearly every one of Lady Piperell’s dresses.

True to Leisa’s first impression of her, Lady Piperell didn’t seem much more comfortable here than Leisa did. So why did she stay? Did she not have a family or a home outside the palace?

It could all be an act, Leisa reminded herself. The other woman could just be trying to gain her trust for nefarious purposes, so there was no need to feel so guilty. No reason to concern herself with Lady Piperell’s fate once this was over.

Once she had what she needed, Leisa returned to her room, faced her mirror, and forced herself to ignore everything she’d heard that day. So what if she was a mirror mage? She wasn’t powerful. Or dangerous. What she could do was just a silly trick. But hopefully, that silly trick was going to gain her the proof she needed to convince King Soren that an alliance with Garimore would destroy Farhall forever.

First things first—Prince Vaniell’s little gift was going to have to stay behind. She reached for the chain, lifted it, and began to pull it over her head, then suddenly found herself across the room looking out the window. It was a beautiful night, and the moon rising over the gardens made a…

Odd. Leisa returned to the mirror and watched herself reach for the necklace again. The moment her fingers touched the chain, they seemed to slide away, and she realized her hair was a mess. It badly needed to be brushed and braided.

The braid was half-finished before she shook herself and recalled with icy clarity what she’d been about to do.

There was no way to doubt it—the gem was spelled in more ways than one. Vaniell, it seemed, was even more of an enigma than she’d considered possible. She was going to have a fair number of pointed questions for him, should it ever occur that she was in a position to ask them.

Fighting back panic, Leisa once again returned to the mirror. Even if the Raven didn’t intend to report her, none of this would work if he followed her everywhere she went. If nothing else, he needed to remain in front of her chambers to give the illusion that she was still within. She had to escape him, even if only for a short while, so the necklace had to come off.

If she was indeed one of these terrifying mirror mages, maybe she could use whatever power she had to help break the magic on Vaniell’s gift. The very idea seemed absurd, on the surface—she had never even tried to use her magic for anything of the sort. Rarely used it at all, and not only because of Soren’s insistence on secrecy. In truth, she’d never known for sure whether her magic was the reason her parents abandoned her. Every time she faced herself in the mirror, she thought of them and wondered…

But this time, her need was greater than her fear, so as Leisa reached for the chain around her neck, she focused on her reflection. More specifically, on the delicate metal links that had begun to seem more like a noose. And when her fingers brushed against them, she visualized herself no longer wearing the necklace. Saw herself forcing the chain off over her head and wrapping it around her hand rather than her neck.

When she dropped her eyes from the mirror, the gem dangled free, and the necklace itself was strung through her shaking fingers.

It worked. Somehow, she had used her magic to counteract someone else’s magecraft. It was a stunning revelation, and one she didn’t have time to consider too deeply. Thrusting the entire mess beneath her pillow, Leisa returned to the glass and completed her change. As soon as Lady Piperell’s kind, middle-aged face looked out of the mirror, Leisa donned her dress and straightened her spine.

This was the most perilous moment of the entire plan. It depended on the Raven’s focus being keyed to the necklace, rather than the princess. And it depended on Leisa’s ability to fool everyone into thinking she was a woman she knew very little about.

She took only the basic items she thought she might need—the note for Zander, two lock picks, her dagger, and her rope—all but the note concealed easily beneath her skirt. With luck, she wouldn’t need any of them, but better to be prepared. Then she threw on a shawl and strolled out of her room towards the door.

The door into the hallway. Where the Raven waited.

This had to work.

Leisa jerked the door open.

Her bodyguard stood in the hallway just beyond and showed no visible reaction to her appearance. Leisa opened her mouth to give an excuse for leaving and remembered only just in time that Lady Piperell would never do such a thing. She wouldn’t really even notice that he was there, except perhaps to shiver in fear as she passed through his shadow.

So she lifted her chin, wrapped her shawl a little more tightly around her shoulders, and walked away, feeling the whole time as if there were a target painted between her shoulders. Any moment now, the Raven could realize that she wasn’t who she appeared to be. At any moment, he could enter her suite looking for her and find her gone.

But she kept walking, somehow not looking over her shoulder, somehow continuing to put one foot in front of the other until she passed out of that hall and into another. Once out of sight, she took an enormous gulp of air and leaned against the wall until her heartbeat returned to nearly normal. But only for a moment. For all she knew, he would be able to hear that she’d stopped and come looking for a reason.

Leisa pushed away from the wall and continued on her way, muttering a prayer to the patron saint of fools, if there was one. If not, she would be a shoo-in for the job after she was dead.

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