Page 17 of Facade

“We need to go,” Aiden shouted as he opened the door to the carriage for me, shooting a look I couldn’t discern at Micah. A warning? But why? There’s no way he heard us from all the way over there… right? Micah cleared his throat and stepped away. His weathered brow creased as he watched me.

I hesitated.

“We’re leaving, my Queen.” I startled at the title, whipping my head to Aiden, who held his hand out and boldly stared at me.

“Why the hell would you say that?” I demanded, my eyes darting around to see if anyone had heard him.

“That’s our cover story. You’re a Queen, visiting from another realm, and we’re assisting in your travels.” He smiled, and my gaze went straight to his fangs. I’m used to fangs—all the Fae have them. But his seemed longer. Deadlier.

My cheeks burned. Traitorous body. While dangerous, that damn smile only made him more irritatingly attractive, and I refused to let that pretty mask he was so blessed with distract me from who he served.

“That’s ludicrous. The lengths you’re going through for a human slave are absurd,” I ground out. “Changing my hair was definitely over the top.”

Amusement tugged at the corner of his lips. “Slave or not, we were ordered to keep you safe in transport. Changing your hair was my idea. It would be advantageous for us to see if any rebels act out, seeing as you look like the Queen from a distance with your hair changed. ”

“So I’m bait?” I deadpanned.

He only shrugged and winked before gesturing toward the opened door.

My jaw tightened as my gaze drifted to Micah one more time. Memorizing him.

Ignoring Aiden’s outstretched hand, I lifted my dress and climbed in. He sighed, clicking the door shut behind me, a lock sliding in place. Unease settled in my gut.

“Wow! Look at you! You really look like a Queen! But your hair looks dumb. That color washes you out. Why’d you change it?” I jumped at the girl’s voice inside the carriage. Then cringed as Lyra leaned forward, out of the shadows. It would seem she didn’t get quite the treatment I had. Brown hair still poked out from beneath her bonnet, and her tattered clothes barely concealed her ample chest. Freckles dusted her cheeks, highlighting her youthfulness.

“I didn’t,” I said through gritted teeth, glaring at her.

“Don’t be pissy with me because you chose an awful color. Anyway, this is great, isn’t it? I can’t believe they chose us!” She was all but jumping up and down, the carriage swaying.

I braced my hands on either wall, scowling.

“Why are you here, Lyra?”

“Cressida said they needed someone to act as your lady-in-waiting because a Queen would never travel without one.” She pulled on a small rope necklace, absentmindedly rubbing whatever was on the end between her fingers—something she did a lot. “Though I don’t get why you had to be the pretend queen. I could’ve pulled that off.” She swatted at the brown strands falling in her face.

“Finally getting away from this hell-hole!” She smiled widely, the glow from the torches highlighting her crooked teeth.

“Who’s to say what awaits us at the end of this journey isn’t a hell of a lot worse?” I grumbled, shoving back in my seat. I flinched as a damn pin stabbed me. I ripped them all out, setting the blonde coils free.

“Yeah, but it’s not like anything will actually happen. Can’t you be normal for once? I mean, I know we’re not exactly friends and you're old. But we’re going to be stuck together for several weeks at least,” she said, her tone mockingly mature.

I shook my head at her and watched the males outside load the remaining supplies.

“Ooh! What if one of the guards with us is a Werewolf? I heard that the King’s guard has Werewolves!” She bounced up and down again. I sighed and looked toward the ceiling. Why is everyone so obsessed with the damn Werewolves?

“Move out!” Aiden’s muffled voice reached us in the carriage. Finally.

“Another plus is that we get to spend all this time with these guards. Especially that captain. I bet he’ll get lonely at some point and—“

“Enough, Lyra!” I shouted as the carriage lurched forward, the crunch of gravel sounding beneath us.

“Whatever. You can mope. I bet you’re just mad you don’t remember if you’re a virgin or not,” she muttered and strained to see out of the carriage window. I blinked in her direction. As crude a subject as that was, she had me there. I couldn’t remember anything, so how would I remember that? Ugh.

As we approached the gate, movement caught my eye. Something dangled overhead…

A chill instantly washed over me, my entire body stiffening.

I sucked in a breath as the torchlight cast its eerie glow over the wall near the gate—it was the male from the night before. Dried blood covered his black and blue face, frozen in a silent scream. His throat had been ripped out, his legs twisted at the wrong angles. And he'd been nailed to the wall with an iron stake through his chest.