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

others.” The heat of him pressed against her back, not quite touching but overwhelming all the same. “Each Raven King only gets one. One life, one kingdom, one bride.”

“This must be very frustrating for you.”

“Why’s that?” He touched her hair again.

“Because you’re going to be alone for a very long time.”

She spun on her heal with a palm raised, magic glimmering in her hand. The spell was simple, child’s play really, but it would work. Electricity barely contained itself before she lifted her palm and let it free.

The white light blasted across the water. Tiny waves marked its path until it struck a wall and fizzled out of existence.

“What?” she gasped.

His voice whispered in her ear again, “It’s not that easy to kill a king.”

Every fiber of her being hated him. She clenched her fists, muscles locked in place, and ground her teeth together so hard they ached. “I will never stop trying.”

“I would be disappointed if you did, my dear.”

Cold air replaced him. Aisling whirled, her gaze searching for him in the shadows until she found the warped form. Ravens shifted underneath his skin, one poking out a head from his neck and descending back down into the pale flesh.

He offered a hand for her to take. “You wished for the waters of Swan Lake?”

“Yes.” She bit her lip, debating. Taking his hand felt like a promise. If she did anything wrong, she might be stuck here for the rest of her life. She had no intention of remaining here for any longer than absolutely necessary.

“Come now, changeling. Do you really think I would try to trick you now? That would be too easy.”

Bravery surged in her veins, so she reached out and took his hand.

Claws closed around her hand, so long they touched the thin skin of her wrist. “That’s much better.”

She disagreed. His skin was almost leathery in texture. Feathers bit into her palm, digging into the eye tattoos and sinking into her like the barbs of a rose.

“You know where the waters are?”

“I know more than that. Now, while we’re walking, why don’t you tell me why you want them?”

“To break a binding curse.”

“Yes, you’ve said that already. Explain it to me.”

He pulled her out into the water, but this time she remained above it. Her feet touched the still surface that now reacted like the mirrored finish of polished stone.

“I could tell you the story, but I don’t think you would listen.”

“Tell it all to me. It’s a long enough journey.”

And so she did.

Aisling spared nothing from her tale, even the things which she knew would anger him. To his credit, he didn’t react. The Raven King nodded solemnly when she spoke of the dangers they had faced. He glanced at her with sad eyes when she spoke of the dead god and his strife. He twitched when she mentioned the death of the Duchess.

But he never stopped her from talking. Not once did he react more than a subtle shift in his demeanor. It would be impressive if she wasn’t so set on disliking him.

“You have had an incredible journey,” he said when she finished.

“Different than the way I’ve lived, I suppose. Magic has always been a part of my life. It feels as though I have been preparing to be here, in this moment, for as long as I have drawn breath.”

“Here with me?” He lifted a dark brow.

“Not quite.”

“Of course not. Presumptuous of me to even consider it. You have been preparing your whole life for…what? Him?”

She knew he meant Bran, and her ears burned in embarrassment. “No. To be in the Unseelie Court. It’s where I was always meant to be, isn’t it? My parents sent me away because I was one of you.”

“I’m not Unseelie, changeling. And neither are you.” He raised both their hands up to gesture at the waters around them. “This is Swan Lake, but if you’re going to use its waters for a spell, then you must take it from the heart.”

He pointed directly down where she could see the center of the lake.

A woman floated deep below them. Her long hair was white as snow, strands hanging in constant suspension. White swan feathers floated in the water around her, slowly spinning in circles. She held a vessel in her hand from which glowing blue water trickled out. Steam rose in twisting coils from the water directly above her, as if it were warm instead of cold.

“Who is she?”

“The heart of the lake.” He crouched, taking her with him until they both pressed their palms against the solid surface. “The very first Raven King’s consort.”

“What happened to her?”

“He was supposed to be eternal, the first and only. But another wished for his wife’s hand. They battled for centuries. The Wild Hunt was lost to the winds, destroying the human world and growing ever more powerful. Cernunnos himself had to step in. He slaughtered both the men and banished her here for all eternity.”

“Why was she punished?” Aisling stared down at her, horrified.

“She was too beautiful for any man to cast eyes upon. He feared she would continue to walk the earth, causing war after war until she finally died. But he couldn’t kill her, for her beauty turned even his heart.”

Aisling spread her fingers on the smooth surface of the lake. The reflection of her face melded with the pale woman’s until she couldn’t tell the difference between them.

She’d spent her life running from those who wanted to define her because of how she looked or what she could do. This woman had suffered the same fate and paid the ultimate sacrifice.

“You wanted the waters,” the Raven King murmured. “Go and take them.”

“How?”

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small glass vial. “All you have to do is jump.”

Aisling took it from him and turned it over in her hand before looking up to meet his gaze. “How?”

“That’s the easy part.”

He released her hand, and she fell into the water with a splash.

Aisling dunked