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She was right.
Yet I didn’t think the Maiden realized who was the true danger in this chamber or in the city and beyond.
“The possibility of you being summoned to the capital unexpectedly played a role in my decision,” Jansen explained. “We plan trips outside the Rise at least six months in advance, and there could be a chance that when and if the Queen requests your presence in the capital, we’d have to wait for the Huntsmen to return. With Hawke being assigned to you, we would be able, for the most part, to avoid that situation.”
The Maiden’s head moved then to where I stood. The nape of my neck prickled. Her clenched hands relaxed, the fingers straightening. I inclined my head, watching the pace of her breath quicken.
“As a member of the Maiden’s personal Royal Guard, it is likely that a situation may occur where you will see her unveiled.” The Duchess spoke, but her tone gave me pause. Her voice was always soft, but there was sympathy there now. “It can be distracting, seeing someone’s face for the first time, especially a Chosen, and that could interfere with your ability to protect her. That is why the gods allow this breach.”
My attention flew back to the Maiden, and my damn heart gave an unsteady skip. Holy shit, I was going to see her with no veil and without a mask.
“Commander Jansen, if you will please step outside,” the Duke asked.
Jansen nodded, quickly obeying the request. The eager look in the Duke’s eyes was now in his smile, and it struck me what he’d said the day before. How confident he’d been when he said that he wasn’t concerned about me having any sort of interest in the Maiden.
“You are about to bear witness to what only a select few have seen,” the Duke said, his gaze on her. “An unveiled Maiden.”
The Maiden’s hands trembled in her lap.
“Penellaphe, please reveal yourself,” the Duke requested, and his fucking smile had warning bells ringing.
Something was off.
She didn’t move for several seconds. No one did. My gaze flew to her companion. Tawny had closed her eyes, and when they reopened, I saw a faint sheen to them. I glanced at Vikter. He looked stoic as he stared down at her.
The Maiden still hadn’t moved.
“Penellaphe,” the Duke warned, and my hands fisted. “We do not have all day.”
“Give her a moment, Dorian.” The Duchess twisted to him. “You know why she hesitates. We have time.”
What in the actual fuck was going on here?
The lower half of her face turned pink, but that slightly pointed chin of hers lifted, jutting out stoically. She rose at the same time Tawny did. Her companion reached for the chains and clasps, but the Maiden got to them first.
My skin started to chill as I watched her yank the chains apart, her movements quick and jerky. The material loosened, then slipped. Tawny caught it, easing the veil off.
Then the entire right side of her face was revealed to me.
It was oval-shaped, cheekbones high and defined, the one eyebrow bold and naturally arched. There was that red hair I’d glimpsed at the Red Pearl, wrapped in some sort of complicated braided knot that looked like it took way too fucking long to create. With the veil gone and in the well-lit chamber, the strands gleamed with a deep, red-wine hue. Her profile was strong.
Beautiful.
One side of her lips tipped up as she stared at the Duke. Just a small bit, a faint smile, but my stomach clenched.
Tawny returned to her seat, holding the veil as the Maiden faced me.
Fully.
And I saw.
The entirety of her full mouth. The stubborn chin and sharp curve of her jaw. Her nose dipped at the bridge, and the tip was slightly upturned. Both brows carried that natural arch, framing clear green eyes.
That was where the similarities between the two sides of her face ended.
There was a lingering bruise from Jericho, one I doubted was noticeable to anyone else, but there was also a jagged streak of flesh, a pink a bit paler than her skin. It started below her hairline and sliced across her temple, coming damn close to her left eye, then ending at the side of her nose. A shorter, long-since-healed gouge cut across the left side of her forehead and her eyebrow, right through that arch. Again, so damn close to that emerald eye.
My gods, she was so damn lucky to have both of her eyes. But the pain the wounds that left those scars likely caused… It must have been unbearable. Especially those kind. Because I knew what had caused those scars. The Craven. I’d felt those claws dig into my body more times than I could count, but the only difference was that my flesh almost always healed. A mortal’s would not. But godsdamn. The inner strength she must have to survive such an attack was inconceivable.
