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

between parents whose children will never take the throne. It was supposed to be you”—the queen pointed at her—“but you disappeared. And then the deal was off. Your sister chose who she wanted, your brother went off to war, and your parents never had another child.”

“They broke a deal with you?”

“You were children. Breaking a deal is rather easy when the expected child doesn’t turn out to be Seelie after all.”

The queen stared at her with a speculating gaze that made Aisling thoroughly uncomfortable. She was only supposed to endure the queen peering through her memories, not her thoughts.

“I am changeling. I am witch. I am many things, and you cannot place the mantle of one upon my shoulders without acknowledging the others.”

“A smart woman. You’ll do well here.” The queen shifted, bringing a leg up as if she was going to stand, but paused at the last second. “You are the Raven King’s consort.”

Anxiety spiked in her chest. “I know.”

“Then you understand he is not going to let you go easily.”

“I’ve yet to find a man who didn’t try to get out of a marriage.”

The queen smiled. “There are always ways to test your mettle, witch. But if you wish to break your curse and renounce your future, you may go and speak with him.”

Aisling stared at her, stunned. Speak with him? The Raven King? The queen made it sound as if…as if…

“Is the Raven King here?” Aisling quietly asked. “In the castle?”

“Directly below our feet, in fact. You’re going to cross paths with him regardless.” The queen hefted herself to standing and made her way back toward the throne. “If you want the waters of Swan Lake that is.”

Her head was spinning. Aisling pressed a hand to her brow and stammered, “Why would you let me get the waters? You clearly did not want Bran to break this curse, although I don’t understand why.”

“You won’t understand everything in your life, little witch. And let me punish my son as I see fit. It makes no difference to me if he wants to break his curse. It’s the honor of it all. An Unseelie wears a curse like a badge of pride. It is honorable to struggle through life, even more honorable to kill those who cursed you. Bran has never fully accepted our ways. Not like you.”

Aisling wanted to argue, but she almost agreed. Bran didn’t fit in with any court. The Unseelie valued freedom and disorder, but Bran wasn’t likely to willingly harm someone. He was too busy finding his own way in life to waste time on others. But then he certainly wasn’t Seelie with their laws and rules to abide by.

She shrugged. “If it’s all the same, he wants to break the curse. I’d like to do that for him.”

“What if I told you breaking the curse was a great risk for you?”

“I would still do it,” Aisling said. She didn’t hesitate to answer. “He’s done enough for me.”

“So you owe him?”

“Even if I didn’t, I would still do this.”

The queen nodded and laid a hand on top of her dark throne. “Then I wish you all the luck with the Raven King. Perhaps you might convince him to break the contract. But I think you shall find something else down there.”

“Down where?”

The queen lifted a hand and pulled herself up into the webbing.

“Your majesty, where are you speaking of? I don’t know the way to the lake.”

A quiet chuckle filled the air, and Aisling knew something bad was about to happen. She waited only a heartbeat before a hole opened up in the floor just under her feet, and she plummeted into the darkness.

The Raven King

She fell for what felt like ages before she struck cold water. Ice and silence covered her head as she plunged into the dark depths.

Aisling hung there for a moment, floating in the oblivion and regaining her senses. Was this Swan Lake? It felt like regular water. No magic slid along her lips and greeted her with frozen fingertips.

Light speared through the frozen lake. No water sprites, no nymphs, not even a kelpie, which she would have expected to see in the Dark Castle. Nothing but silence and shadows cast from ice chunks floating over her head.

She kicked toward the surface. Fabric tangled around her legs. The supple boots on her feet pulled her down. Her lungs burned.

Aisling broke the surface and gasped in air. Shivers traveled down her body as the cold sank deep into her bones. Her lips grew numb, and her fingers filled with painful, icy pricks. But she swam, hoping she would eventually hit some kind of shore.

Her feet touched pebbled stones. She couldn’t have hit land already. She could still see water as far as the dim light would let her see. But it was certainly rocks underneath her feet. Solid ground threatened to twist her ankles as she waded her way through the lake and toward a small island in the center of the freezing water.

The air vibrated with the chiming of bells. On and on they rang, quieter than a church bell but higher than the gong. They were the small bells tied to a horse’s bridle, the ringing in a servant’s quarter, the endless call of a high-pitched chime.

She nudged a large chunk of ice out of her way, fingers burning from the small touch. Her shirt stuck to her chest. She pulled it out, then let it fall back with a sticky slap. She had to get out of these clothes or she would freeze to death. But how?

“How fortuitous. I never thought I would see you in my lifetime.”

The voice was filled with a thousand midnights, darkness and starlight wrapped so tightly they were bound for all eternity. She saw flashes in her mind’s eye. Visions of raven feathers crushed in a muddy boot print that slowly filled with water. Scales sliding upon a carefully laid porcelain floor, muscles flexing as a creature slithered across