A Face Worth Hiding

VESPERA

“Your smile is wrong.”

I stared at the woman standing in front of me. “Good evening to you, too.”

Madam Corvelle did not smile. “Seraphine Bryt has a gentle disposition. She speaks softly, avoids confrontation, and rarely looks anyone directly in the eye. You, on the other hand, look as though you're deciding where to bury a body.”

“Perhaps I have a naturally intimidating face.” I shrugged.

I glanced at the mirror barely recognizing myself. The woman staring back at me wore an expensive silk robe, her curly hair fell around her shoulders, and a bruise darkened one cheek.

Now I was in Kael Draven's Estate, preparing to marry him under a name that belonged to a missing woman. What could possibly go wrong?

Madam Corvelle dropped a thick folder onto the dressing table. “Your education begins now.”

I eyed it suspiciously. “Does it contain a way out of this marriage?”

“No.” Her reply was blunt.

“Then I suspect I'll find it disappointing.” I smirked at her, obviously she didn’t get the humor so I opened the folder.

It contained photographs, medical records, handwritten notes, school reports, and official documents. There were enough details to reconstruct Seraphine's entire life, from her childhood illnesses to her favourite breakfast.

I lifted the first photograph. Seraphine had blonde hair, pale skin, and soft grey eyes. She wore a white dress and stood beside a man in an expensive suit, her smile was timid and looked almost apologetic.

“Is this supposed to be a joke?” I asked.

Madam Corvelle frowned. “What?”

“You've brought me here to impersonate a woman who looks like she belongs in a perfume advertisement, and you expect nobody to notice the difference?”

“Your facial structure is sufficiently similar, your hair can be altered, your makeup adjusted, and your appearance softened.”

“My personality?” I raised my hands.

“That is what we're addressing.”

I dropped the photograph onto the table. “Perhaps you should have kidnapped a better candidate.”

Whack! She slapped me, guess the madam and her employee both have moving hands.

“Do that once more,” I said quietly, “and you'll lose the hand.”

Madam Corvelle studied me, perhaps reconsidering whether a slap had been the wisest decision. “You will learn obedience,” she said.

“And you'll learn manners.” I pointed my index finger at her. “I am a trained assassin, I needn't tell you how things will end if you decide to be violent.”

She turned to the guards. “Leave us.” They hesitated. “Now.”

They finally left, closing the door behind them. Madam Corvelle picked up the photograph and pushed it into my hands.

“Listen carefully. The marriage between the Veyr and Draven families has been arranged for months. The agreement involves political influence, business interests, and obligations neither family intends to abandon because the bride has disappeared.”

“Then find the bride.”

She shook her head and lowered her voice. “Seraphine is missing. Her family has been unable to locate her, and the wedding cannot be postponed again without consequences. You are here because you can take her place.”

“Because my face is similar enough?”

“You will be Seraphine Bryt, you will marry Kael Draven tomorrow morning. You will smile when instructed, answer questions carefully, and never reveal that you are someone else.”

“And if he discovers the truth?” I asked.

“You will regret it.”

I don't think I only get the backlash.” She went silent but she ignored me.

“He has received her photographs and personal history.” She continued. The families have communicated on his behalf, he has never met Seraphine.”

A small measure of relief loosened something in my chest, that was our only advantage.

Madam Corvelle leaned closer. “Do not mistake his unfamiliarity for stupidity. Mr. Draven is an SS-grade Alpha hybrid. His senses are exceptionally sharp, his temper is unpredictable, and he has little patience for dishonesty.”

“Then he should enjoy meeting me.” I replied unbothered.

“He will destroy you if he discovers your deception.”

I smiled without warmth. “Everyone keeps promising me that, I almost feel special.”

Her gaze dropped to my injured hand. “Tomorrow, you will wear the blue dress. Your hair will be styled to resemble Seraphine's usual appearance. You will be given a complete medical examination tonight, and you will memorise every document in this folder before morning.”

“Anything else?” I raised a brow.

“Do not touch the jewellery marked with silver ribbons. Those items belong to Seraphine and are to be returned to her family.”

“Why bring them here, then?”

“Because the family requested it.” She headed toward the door and paused her hand on the handle. “Your sister's safety depends on your cooperation, remember that, Vespera.”

I looked at Seraphine's photograph. “Your life had better be worth this.”

By eight o'clock, I had learned that Seraphine hated strong coffee, preferred chamomile tea, and suffered from recurring fainting spells.

She had attended a private academy, studied art history, and avoided crowded social events. She had no known romantic relationships, no criminal record, and apparently no ability to stand for more than twenty minutes without becoming dizzy.

I stared at her medical report. “Was she made of glass?” I muttered.

Liora, the young maid assigned to help me, she was Seraphina's hand maiden. She glanced nervously at the open bedroom door. “Please don't say things like that.”

“Why? Will the walls report me?” I lowered my voice. “Did Seraphine really faint that often?”

“Yes, she was always delicate.” Liora replied.

“Did she have any unusual habits?”

“She twisted her ring whenever she was nervous. She also counted the buttons on her sleeves when she couldn't sleep.”

I looked at the photograph. Seraphine's hands were folded neatly in front of her, and a thin silver ring sat on her right index finger. “Where is her ring?” I asked.

Liora hesitated. “She lost it before she disappeared, I don't know a lot about it.”

I closed the folder. “You don't know much about the woman you've apparently helped dress for years.”

The medical reports described Seraphine as physically weak, prone to anxiety, and sensitive to strong scents. One document specifically advised against exposing her to unusually high concentrations of Alpha pheromones without medical supervision.

That was interesting. Kael Draven supposedly possessed some of the strongest Alpha pheromones ever recorded.

I tapped the page. “Why would they arrange a marriage between someone so physically vulnerable and an Alpha like him?”

Liora's eyes widened. “Because their families wanted an alliance.”

“Does nobody in these families care whether the bride survives it?”

She said nothing, so I turned to another page. A list of Seraphine's favourite things followed her medical history. Her preferred flowers were white lilies, she disliked thunderstorms and she had a habit of apologising even when she had done nothing wrong.

I practised her signature on a scrap of paper, by the sixth attempt, it looked convincing.

“Miss Vikin?” Liora stood beside the wardrobe, holding a pale blue dress. “Madam Corvelle says you must try this on.”

I examined the gown. It was delicate, expensive, and designed to make its wearer look harmless. The neckline was high enough to conceal the scar beneath my collarbone, and the long sleeves hid the marks on my wrists.

I stepped behind the changing screen and pulled it on. When I emerged, Liora clasped her hands.

“You look beautiful.”

“I look like I should be locked in a glass cabinet.”

She smiled before remembering herself. I turned toward the mirror, the dress transformed my appearance. My hair would need styling, my face would need makeup, and my posture would need work.

A knock sounded and Liora hurried to the door.

A male voice came from the corridor. “Medical examination. Open up.”

My fingers tightened around the fabric. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, Miss Vale.” Liora nodded.

“Is there a reason nobody here believes in asking permission?”

The door opened, and an older physician entered with a medical bag. He wore rimless glasses and carried himself with the confidence of a man accustomed to being obeyed.

“Please sit down.”

I did, he checked my pulse, examined my eyes, and asked several questions about my medical history. I answered carefully, using the information from Seraphine's records.

Then he reached for my left hand. “Any previous injuries?”

“No.” I replied smoothly.

He turned my palm upward. A pale scar crossed the base of my thumb, another marked the side of my index finger.

He frowned. “Where did these come from?”

“Kitchen accidents, I'm a terrible cook.” I said in the smallest voice possible.

He examined my hands more closely. “These are not typical kitchen injuries.”

“Perhaps I cook aggressively.” I was becoming nervous.

He looked at me for about a few seconds then he closed my hand. “You should avoid strenuous activity before the wedding.”

“I'm planning to spend the entire day sitting quietly and regretting my decisions.”

He packed his instruments then stared at me for a long moment before gathering his bag. “I'll speak with Madam Corvelle.”

After he left, I exhaled. Liora rushed toward me. “Miss, you should get some rest.”

“I've been kidnapped and threatened with death. Sleep seems optimistic.” I agreed.

She hung the blue dress beside several other gowns. As she reached for a cream-coloured garment, something slipped from its lining and fluttered to the floor.

It was a folded piece of paper, I bent and picked it up. The paper was creased and slightly yellowed at the edges. Someone had hidden it deep inside the dress, securing it beneath a loose section of stitching.

I unfolded it, it had four words on it.

DO NOT MARRY KAEL.

I recognized Seraphine’s signature, it was dated yesterday. The day she disappeared.

I had been ordered to take Seraphine's place because the arranged marriage mattered more than the missing bride. But Seraphine had left one final instruction for whoever wore her dress, and it looks like she anticipated her family would look for a replacement.

“Miss?” Liora whispered. “What is it?”

I stared at Seraphine's signature. “I think the bride knows something we don't.”

A knock thundered against the door. “Miss Vikin!” Madam Corvelle called. “Open immediately!”

I shoved the note into my sleeve, Liora hurried to the door, but before she could unlock it, another voice sounded from the corridor.

It was a man's voice, it sounded deep, low and unmistakably authoritative.

“Why is my bride's room locked?”