These Hollow Vows (These Hollow Vows, #1)(38)
“I don’t want her to know anything that might make her question why you’re really here.” He swallows and turns back to me. There’s a storm of worry brewing in those sea-green eyes. “Despite my better judgment, I don’t want you to leave, Brie. I like the idea of having you around.”
I wish you’d stop saying sweet things. “Do you think your mother will allow me to stay?”
“I’ll insist. It’ll be fine.” He takes my hand and skims his thumb across my pulse point. Awareness shivers through me, but when I look down, my scar is gone. “What—did you . . .”
“It’s a glamour,” he says quickly.
I stare at that smooth skin on the inside of my wrist and frown. I like my scar. It’s a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and what I will sacrifice for the people I love. It represents the only truly good things about me. “Is that necessary?”
“I’m afraid so.” I hear the regret hanging on his soft words.
What kind of mother is she that she won’t allow her son to marry a girl with so much as a small scar? “Okay. I understand.”
“I have to go, but I will see you soon. Remember not to let on that you knew me before you arrived at the castle, and don’t tell anyone details of your life. They can know your name and that you’re from Fairscape, but that’s enough.”
I nod, and as I watch him go, my stomach clenches uncomfortably.
How can feeling unworthy of a position I never wanted make me feel so small?
* * *
I play my part. A human girl excited over the prospect of marrying a faerie prince.
I’m bathed, scrubbed, plucked, and moisturized to within an inch of my life. Tess and Emmaline ask me questions about home, about what I think of Sebastian, about what it’s like to have his eye. I try to act like a regular human girl who’s known luxuries rather than having provided them for others. I pretend I don’t know more than I should about their prince—like the way he gravitates toward the outdoors when the sun is out, or the way the muscles in his back ripple when he swings a sword. For them, I pretend I don’t know what it’s like to feel those soft lips meet mine, and for myself I pretend I don’t want to feel that again.
The entire morning is surreal. My maids treat me like I’m some beautiful princess from a foreign land, not the penniless human thief who lived in a cellar for the last nine years. If I’m honest, their doting is . . . nice. I’ve spent all my time going unnoticed, being unremarkable, and I’m surprised to find that there’s some part of me that likes having them coo over the blazing red of my hair and the hazel eyes I’ve always found too plain.
They present me with half a dozen dresses of different shades and styles, each more lovely than the last. Jas would have swooned over the gowns as if they were priceless works of art, but all I can think is how much I’d rather wear pants. If I’d been in pants last night, I might’ve stood a chance when running from the Barghest. Now isn’t the time, though. I need to dress in something the queen will find appropriate for her son’s potential bride.
“Hair all up or half up?” Emmaline asks. She drops my curls and hides her delighted giggle behind her hand. “The prince thinks you’re lovely either way, I’m sure.”
I cock my head to the side, studying her in the mirror. “Why do you laugh like that when you talk about Prince Ronan liking me or asking you to do things for me? Is that uncommon with the fae?”
The maids exchange another long look. “Not with the fae,” Tess says. “But Prince Ronan . . .”
Emmaline shakes her head subtly and offers me an apologetic smile. “We shouldn’t say.”
“I wish you would.”
“It won’t hurt anything,” Tess says under her breath to her twin.
Emmaline bites back a smile, then lets it loose. “Our prince has been reluctant to choose a bride. He’s been doing what he must because this is tradition, but he’s not been involved in any of it. He alone has been responsible for all these delays in the ceremony.”
“He didn’t even show up the first night of the ball,” Tess says. “Rumor has it he told his mother he wasn’t ready, but she moved forward with it anyway. Eventually he had to comply, but he’s been . . . distant.”
“Until you showed up,” Emmaline says, pinning a curl at the back of my head. “Now he’s suddenly very interested in the process. So interested it seems he’s already decided. Make sure Abriella has coffee. Please prepare dresses for Abriella. Could you put a bouquet of day lilies on her breakfast tray?”
“And of course he also gave you the nicest guest quarters,” Tess adds.
“And the sweetest maids, it seems,” I say softly.
The twins giggle happily at the compliment, but it’s not just flattery. I know it’s true. Sebastian has done all this for me and I’m not sure I deserve it.
I sit still as they finish my hair. They pull the top half of my hair back and pin it in place, but they leave the rest down, using special creams to tame my curls and make them hang perfectly.
These women want to be my friends. That simple kindness fills me with guilt as I imagine how I’ll have to deceive them in the days ahead, but I lock up the feeling and push it aside. Starting now, I will use every tool at my disposal to get Mordeus his relics and free Jas.