The Faceless Woman by Emma Hamm (i love reading .txt) 📕

his control, and if she wanted to hate him for that, so be it. He agreed with her. He wasn’t capable of being a king and never wanted a throne. If it was his choice, he’d give it to her and run.

Shame, it wasn’t his choice. She’d make a good queen.

He stopped abruptly, taking time to enjoy the warm weight of her body as she collided with him. “Why don’t we stop for a second, eh, witch?”

“Would you stop calling me that?”

“Once you stop calling me Unseelie.”

When her tiny fists curled, a spike of satisfaction lanced through his chest.

Bran liked to make people uncomfortable. He enjoyed teasing them, frustrating them, really any reaction to make their head spin. Even royals found him unbearable to be around, but that was part of the game. People acted who they really were when they were frustrated.

He enjoyed bothering her far more than anyone else. Perhaps it was because he couldn’t see her face. Instead, he got to watch her entire body screw up in anger as she tried to hold herself together.

And she always tried to be so good about hiding her anger. She’d politely respond while hissing the words through her teeth. It was adorable.

The only thing that could make it better was the sight of her face. He had a feeling her cheeks flamed bright red when she was angry. Too much fire ran in her veins for it not to show.

His fingertips burned at the memory of touching her. Her skin was soft as the finest velvet, but her spine was rigid as steel.

He knew a beauty when he touched one. He’d painted the picture of her in his mind’s eye. The high cheekbones, delicately arched brows, thin nose and full lips. Each piece of her face fit into an image of stunning beauty, but he found himself focusing on details he would never know. The color of her eyes, the spread of her blushes, the shape of her smile.

Every piece of her was a thinly veiled visage. She wore her wit and sarcasm like a badge of pride when they were really a shield against the world.

He knew because he did the same thing.

Aisling stumbled over a branch and cursed. “Explain this Duchess again?”

“The Duchess of Dusk is the name she’s given herself. She’s not Unseelie royalty by a long shot, but has appointed herself the unofficial champion of all whom the court will not recognize.” He lifted a branch for her to duck under. “As you can imagine, she’s not a fan of me or my family.”

“I wonder why.”

“Well personally, I’m too handsome. She finds my looks to be rather intimidating. Don’t you?”

She didn’t reply. His gaze caught on her fingers tapping against her side, and he grinned. She might not want to give him the satisfying taste of her lie, but she was definitely affected.

“How many Unseelie have you seen in your life?” he asked.

“You. A hobgoblin. A couple horned beasts. All the creatures we walked by.”

“Then you haven’t really been immersed in the Unseelie court before now. You’ve seen the lesser Fae, but you’ve never seen Unseelie royalty.”

“I lived in the human world, Bran. What do you expect?”

“You asked me to prepare you next time. I’m trying to do that.” He reached forward and plucked a leaf from her hair, lifting it to the light and twirling it between his fingers. “Or do you want to walk in blind again? We can do that instead.”

She snorted. “I was the one complaining about it. Of course, I want to know everything I can know. That’s why I asked.”

He thought she might have muttered something else under her breath. It sounded suspiciously close to “numbskull,” but he let it slide.

“The Duchess of Dusk is the perfect example of what an Unseelie Fae should look like.”

“You aren’t?” She turned on her heel to face him. A wave of heat rushed from the tip of his toes to the top of his head, and he knew she had given him a scorching once over. “You don’t look like the glowing representation of beauty such as the Seelie Fae.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, witch.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

Aisling slowed, reached out a hand, and leaned against a tree. She was tired, but didn’t want to tell him. So he feigned a yawn and settled onto a fallen log. She wouldn’t take kindly to him pointing out any weakness so he nonchalantly made himself comfortable, leaning back against a trunk and propping his foot up on the worn bark.

“Here’s the deal, witch. The Duchess and her kingdom aren’t entirely complete.” He lifted a hand when she opened her mouth. “I’m not finished. Don’t interrupt me. It’s rude. Everyone who calls the Palace of Twilight their home is missing pieces of themselves. The land she took over was home to cannibals, now to all those who aren’t considered fully formed.”

“Are they still cannibals?” she asked.

“Some. It’s unlikely they’ll try to attack us though, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Unlikely or they won’t?”

He arched a brow. “We’re in the Otherworld, witch. Nothing is certain here.”

The disgust radiating through her shoulders made him grin. It was too easy to get her riled, and he adored the way she obviously tried not to stomp her feet and scream at him. He almost preferred it when she shouted.

He kind of liked it.

Aisling blew out a breath. “Spare me the riddles. How dangerous is this place?”

“Extremely.”

“Guards?”

“She has an entire army at her beck and call.”

“Do we have weapons?”

“We won’t need them.” He flashed her a grin. “We’re going to let them capture us.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s rather simple, witch. The Duchess of Dusk hates me. She has been searching for a way to remove my head for a very long time. Now that she has the opportunity, she’s going to take it. All we have to do is find the entrance to her kingdom and she’ll deliver us to her doorstep.”

The witch was so