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

He moved her hair to the side, baring her throat to his gaze and the metal wrapped around her pale neck. “That’s better. Now I know it’s you.”

A ragged sigh expelled from her lips.

She could almost feel his frown. “Aisling, what is it?”

“There’s nothing wrong, just… changed.” Her heart raced, but she turned and slowly faced him. She had to take a deep breath to look up. Her gaze met his, the endless well of the ocean meeting a starry night sky.

Bran blew out a breath. The sound filled her heart with a certain sense of longing she’d never felt before. His expression softened, and he slowly lifted a hand to touch the roundness of her cheek.

Fingertips, so gentle they were like a feather, brushed along the lines of her face. He stroked the fine edge of her jaw, the fullness of her bottom lip, the featherlight eyelashes which fluttered closed.

And in that moment, Aisling felt for the first time what it might be like to be cherished. He touched her as though she were something fragile. Like the individual strands of a feather that might part and forever ruin if he was too brutal.

“Bran,” she whispered. She would tell him everything—who she was, where she came from, explain the feelings bubbling in her chest that she couldn’t control.

“I’m sorry,” he replied.

She searched his dark gaze. “Why are you sorry?”

He wasn’t smiling anymore. There was no tenderness in his eyes, nor awe in the lines of his face. He looked at her as if he was disappointed. No, she realized. Horrified.

“This is the Duchess’s doing, isn’t it?” he asked, but did not wait for her reply. “Know that she gave you this face to harm me. To distract me. I will not let it, but it cuts to the bone that she would try to use you like this.”

Aisling’s words stuck in her throat. “Whose face do I wear?”

She could guess the answer, but she wanted to hear him say it. She still looked like her family, enough he would have recognized where she came from and who she was related to. She just hadn’t thought he’d known her sister like that. Those damning words would remain with her for the rest of her life, but she wanted to hear him say it.

“That of a woman I once loved. Both myself and another tried to win her heart, and I was certain she would choose me. But she was promised to a prince, although there was a time when she might have been mine. In the end, she chose the Seelie prince as everyone wanted her to.” He pressed a hand against his chest. “It wounded me for years. Centuries.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault, little witch.” He tucked a finger under her chin and tilted her face to the light. “A remarkable likeness, although I can appreciate the small differences she tried to implement. The Duchess is a cruel woman indeed.”

Aisling swallowed, her heart taking flight through her mouth and whispering words she never intended to speak. “Could you ever love her again?”

“The woman whose face you wear?” He shook his head. “No. Never again. I have changed, and I know there are many layers to beauty, but that of the flesh is the lowest of them all.”

His hand slid from her chin, and Aisling felt her heart shatter.

“I don’t think the ball should take too long. Rest when we return. I’m working on a plan. It won’t be pretty. I underestimated the Duchess, but it will suffice. Have you seen anything that could be useful?”

She swallowed hard and managed to shake her head. “No.”

“All right.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Keep your eyes open. Maybe one of the maids will know something we don’t. Are you ready to go?”

“Not quite.” She pressed her hands against her stomach, holding the butterflies at bay. “If you’ll give me just a moment, I need to adjust the corset underneath the dress.”

His cheeks flamed bright red. “Ah, well… Yes. I imagine you don’t need help?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll just…” He gestured at the door and raced out.

She blew out a breath and spun toward the window. Darkness met her gaze, as it always did in this place, but this time it felt more ominous than before.

What was she going to do?

Lorcan crawled out from under the pillows, his ears flat against his skull. “Aisling, don’t.”

“He thinks I look like her,” she whispered. “Like my sister.”

“She wouldn’t want him to. Her choice led her down the wrong path, but that doesn’t mean she would step back in time if she could.”

“Does it matter?” She lifted her watery eyes. “He doesn’t want to see this face. It reminds him of pain and heartbreak.”

“He doesn’t know it’s your face.”

“He doesn’t know a lot of things.” She smoothed a hand down her stomach, forcing her eyes to dry no matter how much she wanted to release the sobs. “And now he cannot know.”

“You’re being foolish, Aisling. You have to talk to him.”

“Soon. Soon I will tell him everything, but let me avoid it tonight.” With her spine straightened and her shoulders squared, a mask of calm fell over her newfound face. “Perhaps you should make yourself scarce again, Lorcan.”

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” Sadness darkened his eyes. “Being with him for a moment isn’t worth a lifetime of heartbreak.”

Aisling didn’t know if she agreed. “He’s going to leave once he knows the truth.”

“You can’t know that for certain.”

But she did. He wouldn’t want to remain with a woman who had a direct tie to the princess who broke his heart. He wasn’t the first. Aisling’s sister was known to be a heartbreaker. She’d enjoyed that in her youth.

Bran couldn’t look at her without his face twisting in anguish. It was as horrid as a kiss of death.

Lorcan shuffled. “You have to go the ball. The Duchess made it sound as though it wasn’t an option to say no.”

“I will avoid him as much as possible.”

“Do