Chapter 4

Elowen

The words hung in the air, and I wanted to swallow them back whole.

No one moved. The guards held their swords half-drawn, frozen between threat and confusion. The mounted escort stared. Even the horses had gone still.

I stood in the middle of the road with bleeding palms and no shoes, my gold dress torn and filthy, and it hit me that I had just made things very much worse.

Flick had spent half the night coaching me. A whole speech about devotion and sincerity, how I'd admired the Regent Prince from afar, how his sacrifice for the kingdom had moved me deeply. Flick had stolen the best lines from love confessions overheard through a hundred bedroom candles.

I couldn't remember a single one.

The young man with the leather folio was staring at me in open horror. Then he recovered, cleared his throat, and waved the guards forward.

"Remove her. Quickly, please."

Two soldiers grabbed my arms. My bare feet dragged on the cobblestones.

"Stop."

The voice came from inside the carriage. Low and unhurried. The kind of voice that didn't need volume to carry.

Every soldier froze. The young man went white.

"Bring her here."

The guards let go so fast I stumbled. The young man opened the carriage door with an expression that needed no translation. A few of the soldiers glanced at me sideways. Pity, I realized. They thought I was walking to my death.

I climbed in.

The interior was dim, curtains drawn, a single lamp turned low. He sat in the far corner, and the first thing I saw was the mask. Bone-white, covering his face from forehead to cheekbone, leaving only his jaw and mouth exposed.

The second thing I noticed surprised me.

He was handsome, but nothing like Adrian. Adrian was polished and idle, someone who had never had to fight for anything. Kieran wore his power differently. Broad shoulders under a dark coat, a sharp jaw, the build of a man who had been a warrior and still carried the memory of it in every line of his body. Even seated, even still, the carriage felt too small for him.

My chest tightened. I didn't know why.

"Have you finished?"

His eyes were visible beneath the mask. Dark and dangerous.

I dropped my gaze instantly. "Forgive me, Your Highness."

"Come closer." He gestured toward the seat across from him. "And say it again."

I moved carefully. My knees were bleeding through the silk. My voice came out thin.

"I want to marry you."

Then I pushed forward, grasping for what I could remember of Flick's speech. "I've long admired Your Highness — the most handsome and noble prince in the kingdom. Your selfless sacrifice in the war, your courage—"

"Stop."

I stopped.

He tilted his head. The lamplight caught the edge of the mask. A dark line crawled past its border, disappearing beneath the bone-white surface. Whatever it was, it wasn't a scar.

"There's a rumor," he said, "that you're not Baron Sterling's real daughter."

My stomach dropped.

"I can see why people believe it." He almost smiled. It wasn't friendly. "Your father is a shameless liar. But you — you're remarkably similar. Saying whatever you think will work with that same earnest face."

"That's not—"

"And the same thick skin, apparently." His gaze moved over me, slow and deliberate. "Running through the streets to throw yourself at a man you've never met. Sterling would be proud of the resemblance."

That one got me. I was used to cruel. But he was partly right, and he knew it. I'd come here out of desperation, not devotion. He could see right through me.

"You have no idea what you're doing," he said. "Do you."

"I do," I whispered. Even I didn't believe it.

The carriage swayed. Outside, a horse stamped.

His hand shot out and caught my wrist. I pitched forward, nearly falling into his lap. Before I could pull back, he pressed my palm flat against his right knee.

Through the thin fabric, I felt something wrong. Bone jutting at an angle that made my breath catch. Hard ridges where the break had healed crooked, the kneecap pushed too far to one side, the joint warped and misaligned beneath the skin.

With his other hand, he reached up and removed the mask.

Dark lines crawled across his face like living things. Symbols in a language I didn't recognize, etched into his flesh from his left temple down past his jaw. They pulsed faintly, as though the curse that had put them there hadn't finished.

He held my wrist so I couldn't look away. Our faces were close enough that I could feel his breath.

"Now you've seen it." His voice was quiet. Almost soft, and the softness was worse than anger. "Will you still marry a cursed cripple?"

My hand was still on his knee. Through the damaged bone, I could feel his heartbeat — fast, despite how steady his voice was.

This man had gone to war for his kingdom and come home ruined. The curse marks weren't decoration. They were still burning.

He watched my silence and his mouth twisted. "Can't even answer, can you."

I didn't think about what I did next. I reached up with my free hand and touched the dark lines on his cheek.

His entire body went rigid.

For one breath, something in his face broke open. Just for a second. Then it slammed shut. He grabbed my wrist and shoved me backward.

"Don't."

I hit the opposite seat, my heart hammering so hard I could barely think. It hit me what I'd just done. I'd touched the Regent Prince's face. Without permission. Without thinking.

"I'm sorry." I bowed my head, bracing for whatever came next. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, I didn't mean—"

He stared at me.

The silence stretched until my hands began to shake. I kept my head down, waiting for the anger, the command to the guards, the punishment I'd been trained to expect.

"Get out."

I climbed down from the carriage. The door closed behind me. The driver snapped the reins, and the carriage pulled away.

I stood alone in the empty road, bleeding palms pressed together, watching the lanterns shrink into the dark.

I'd survived. But he'd seen through everything, every rehearsed word, every desperate lie, and sent me away. Tomorrow Father would send me to Adrian. Unless I ran tonight, disappeared into the forest, found the witch's cottage and lived on herbs and creek water where no one could find me—

"So this is where you've been. Making a fool of yourself in front of the whole district."

My father's voice. Close behind me.