Page 58 of The Faceless Mage

Guard rendered unconscious in four.

Page boy tied up and relieved of his coat in nineteen.

She pulled the coat on, tucked her ponytail into the back of it, and marched her way brazenly out of the suite, past the still arguing king and queen, past three more guards, holding her breath until she’d almost reached the main door.

“Where is Petrin?” One of the guards asked suddenly. “I’ve never seen you before. And why aren’t you wearing your proper uniform?”

Which was, of course, Leisa’s cue to run.

This time around, getting back to her room was much easier, as she now knew this palace nearly as well as her own. Well, Soren’s anyway. Just inside the doorway to a narrow servants’ hallway, she pressed her hands and feet against opposite walls, climbed up near the ceiling, and balanced there, arms and legs screaming as several groups of guards ran by. Then she dropped to the floor and jogged after them. Once she reached the ground floor, Leisa borrowed a scullery maid’s dress from a laundry pile and ditched the page boy’s coat, then made her way back up through the servants’ stairs. No one so much as glanced at her a second time, and when she peered out into her own hallway, it was empty.

The Raven had not yet returned.

She breathed out a deep sigh of relief, which was probably misplaced. He knew she’d been out of her rooms. And it was only a matter of time before he either reported or confronted her. But for the moment, the way was clear for a sprint to her door. She yanked it open and slipped inside, closing it softly in hopes that her maids and Lady Piperell would sleep through the noise.

When she heard no further disturbances, Leisa made her way to her room and shut the door thankfully behind her.

She had to come up with a story. Had to figure out how she was going to defend herself. So before she did anything else, she stepped up to the mirror and changed her face.

Her hood was deep, so she had to hope that the Raven had not truly seen her as Leisa. And even if he accused her of being a liar—even if he knew she’d been spying on the king—it was far better that he believe Evaraine untrustworthy than that he discover she was actually a mirror mage.

But… how had he followed her? How had he known her, even without the gem? And why hadn’t he returned yet, to silently accuse her of treachery?

Shivering, Leisa threw on her dressing gown right over the top of her trousers and vest, dropped the accursed gem back around her neck, and wondered how she was going to get out of this. Which was how the Raven found her when he opened her window from the outside and dropped silently into her room.

Even when she was expecting him, his presence caused her heart to pound and sucked the air from her lungs.

Even without coming any closer, he managed to lift the hairs on the back of her neck and make her wonder whether he would kill her immediately or wait until the king pronounced her sentence.

They stared at one another as the moments drew out, longer and longer. Leisa opened her mouth to say something—anything—but before she could get any words out, he took a step forward, with the graceful, sinuous stride of a hunter.

He stalked her, moving around the bed as she froze in place, striding closer and closer until they were separated by no more than arm’s length.

And then he stopped. Breathed in. Once again, Leisa had the irrational thought that he was somehowsmellingher.

She tried to say something, but the words remained stuck in her throat. Neither of them seemed willing to be the first to move. At least not until someone pounded on the outer door to her suite, and the moment shattered.

“Evaraine! You are needed! Wake up!”

And then the Raven moved. He whirled to face the threat, shifting her to stand behind him as his sword appeared in his right hand, and his left gripped her wrist.

He was touching her. By choice. Firmly, but not painfully. Not because she’d fallen and he needed to catch her, but to ensure that she stayed behind him.

Where she would be safe.

“Evaraine!”

Was that… Vaniell?

“I’d best see what he wants,” Leisa murmured, finally forcing actual words past her lips.

The Raven paused, and she thought he seemed reluctant to move. But after a moment, he let go of her wrist and moved towards the door. She followed him through it, which provoked an expression of open-mouthed shock from Lady Piperell, who was about to admit their insistent visitor.

“Your Highness, I…” Further words seemed to fail her at the sight of the Raven coming out of the princess’s room. Apparently, speechlessness was catching.

“Just let him in,” Leisa said with a sigh. It wasn’t as if there were any explanation she could give that would make the slightest bit of sense. She wasn’t sure she understood it herself.

She’d been right, though. It was Vaniell waiting in the hall outside, but he didn’t linger there. He entered, glanced briefly at the Raven, then jerked his head at Lady Piperell.

---