Page 16 of Facade

I tossed and turned all night, waking several times in a panic over my new surroundings. When I finally slipped into a deep sleep, I was roughly shaken awake, the room still dark.

A lady’s maid had come to dress me in a velvet green gown with long, itchy sleeves, and large bracelets on either wrist to cover my tattoos. The bracelets were made of gold, a rare commodity, even for the wealthy. Something that would come in handy if I escape. No, not if—when.

The maid didn’t hide her distaste for me as she pulled a golden sash across my midsection and tightly latched a matching cloak to my shoulders. The heavy dress was foreign—suffocating and hot—another strategy to keep me from running away, no doubt.

Then there was my hair. I'd always kept it in a simple braid, but today the maid put several braids in place, pulling tightly as she pinned them around the back of my head. My scalp throbbed from the pokes and pulls, several feral sounds scraping out of my throat with obscenities muttered beneath.

“You are beautiful once you take off the rags and scrub away the grime, aren’t you?” Cressida purred as she appeared in the doorway, clad in a skin-tight black dress that trailed dramatically behind. The torches in the hall cast shadows around her, making her look like royalty herself. It took every effort not to roll my eyes. Bitch.

The maid curtsied low before Cressida, wrinkling her nose at me. I flashed her an obscene gesture, making her frown and stomp off. It gave me a remarkable flashback to the kitchens.

“When do we leave?” I scowled, kicking the heavy dress as I tried to walk. Impossible task as the material pooled around my feet.

“Soon enough,” Cressida crooned, circling me slowly—a lioness assessing her prey. I warily followed her movement.

“Aiden requests your presence downstairs.” She smiled. Clearly, she thrived off the discomfort she caused.

A snap of her fingers, and black smoke, like shadows, swallowed me before I knew what was happening—then I was falling to the floor, landing on my hands and knees with more foul language spewing as it jarred my back.

I glowered at her as I pushed off the ground.

The Queen sat at the same desk as the night before, her expression already soured. Aiden stood to her right, a smirk on his face as he assessed me with a look of approval. Fuming, I looked anywhere but him.

“Why is she dressed like that?!” The Queen barked. I held my head high as I swatted off some dust.

“My Queen,” Aiden started, “I commanded her attire to be better suited to that of a high lady. Per the orders of the King,” he said unabashedly.

My eyes slit as I glared his way.

The Queen leveled him with a cold, lethal stare of her own, angling her head, almost at an unnatural angle.

“You don’t make commands here, captain.” Her words were clipped, nails digging into the arm of her chair.

I fidgeted with a bracelet, the tension suffocating.

“Fine,” she spat, flicking her hand in dismissal, her bracelets clinking together, when he didn’t respond. “Leave.”

I gaped at her, hoping—what? That she’d fight to keep me here? After all my thoughts about escape last night, I'd concluded that this wouldn’t go well. Not with the new spell that tied me to Aiden. With Queen Valentina’s outburst yesterday, a very small part of me thought she’d demand I remain here. It would seem that even she was scared of her husband in the north after all. Great.

Aiden offered his arm, but I brushed past him, stomping toward the door. I paused at the threshold. One look over my shoulder, and I met the Queen’s eyes. She bristled—but something else lurked beneath her hard demeanor—fear.

Aiden ushered me to the front of the castle, where the carriage bearing the royal crest—a pair of swords crossing each other, cutting through the moon—waited. Two royal guards sat at the front of the carriage, holding the reins. Two more sat atop their horses behind the carriage, and one of them was the largest male I’d ever seen.

His dark skin gleamed in the fading moonlight. Tight, sleeveless fighting leathers made his skin sleek and muscles defined. A leather strap held back his multi-braided hair, sharpening his features. As captivating as he was, it was his golden eyes that ensnared me, pinning me in place as if he could see straight through me.

My fists tightened at my sides. His gaze narrowed until Micah came around the corner—breaking the tension—leading a black stallion whose mane and tail shone from the cleaning and brushing he’d given it.

“All ready, captain,” Micah called to Aiden as he handed over the reins.

Aiden walked straight to the large rider, the stallion trailing behind him, speaking in hushed tones. I nervously searched for the grisly male from the night before—there was no sign of him.

“Looks like I won’t be seeing you for a while,” Micah said with a tight smile.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, but I’ll miss you. You’ve always made me feel like I’ve had a friend here.” I reached out and hugged him. He embraced me back, making my heart ache.

He tugged me closer, speaking barely above a whisper.

“Be on guard, my girl.” My stomach dropped. “Don’t trust them. I don’t know who you were or where you came from, but when you arrived, there were whispers of how you came to be here. And it wasn’t a family of rebellion. You fell—”