The Faceless Woman by Emma Hamm

Author:Emma Hamm [Hamm, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ARC COPY
Published: 2018-07-02T18:30:00+00:00

The Duchess Of Dusk

Bran followed the duke and duchess to their personal chambers. The winding hallways and weak, filtered light were exactly the same as he remembered. It was strange how little the Palace of Twilight changed, even after all these years.

The first time she’d dragged him here, he was a young man with a chip on his shoulder. He was still young to the Fae, but Bran liked to think he’d grown up since then.

Now, he traversed the halls with new eyes. Carvings decorated the ancient stone, each magnificent creation a sign of someone who cared enough to leave their mark on this place. Though the duchess and her people were twisted, they loved each other fiercely.

The duke pressed his hand against the duchess’s waist, guiding her every step of the way. He wore love on his being the same way as the duchess had described Aisling. The duke never took his eyes off his wife.

“Your mask?” Bran asked as he followed them. “That’s new.”

“It is.”

“The last time I saw you, you were sporting six sets of arms.”

“I grew tired of having so many limbs. Everyone expected me to do six times the amount of work.”

“Sound reasoning.”

The duke snorted. “I wasn’t fond of it.”

They paused in front of a red door, handprints decorating the edges where hundreds of small goblins had held it open for the duke and duchess. Bran hesitated, allowing them to enter their domain first. He wouldn’t put it past them to hide an assassin, just to see the expression on Bran’s face.

Inside, a small fire crackled in a gilded hearth. Worn, plush furniture awaited them in a room filled with golden ornaments and red wallpaper. It was a room fit for royalty, and as such was surprising to Bran to see in the duchess’s home. She liked the aesthetic of dying things.

“This is a strange room to find in your home,” he observed. “I thought you despised bright colors.”

The duchess gestured for him to take a seat. “We all change, Unseelie. Even you.”

She had him there. He couldn’t say her castle had changed without admitting he was a different man than the one who’d wandered these halls all those years ago. A shame, because he dearly loved to criticize the Duchess of Dusk.

Shaking his head, he sank onto the loveseat and extended his arm along the back. “A story for a safe night was the deal I believe?”

They sat down across from him, the duke’s hand never far from hers. The duchess smiled and asked, “Tea?”

“I don’t trust you not the poison it.”

“Silly. I’m not going to poison you before the story.” She reached forward and hooked a finger through the handle of a teapot on the small table before them. “I’ll poison you afterwards.”

“Then by all means, pour away.”

While she played house, the duke watched him through the slanted eyes of his mask. Bran recognized the look. He was being measured, tried, and slowly stripped of all his shields. He pitied the man who forgot how talented Bran was at hiding his emotions and inner secrets.

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