Page 65 of Façade

He glanced back too. “I’m not certain. When I think he’s tried to harm you before now, not just once butthreetimes…”

His hold tightened protectively around my waist, a burst of heat pressing against the base of my back. I never would have imagined my enemy would ever make me feel so safe; our relationship had developed in ways beyond what I could have ever expected. Though now wasn’t the time to focus on such a puzzle, in this moment it was the only one I cared about.

I forced myself to wrangle my thoughts back to the matter at hand. “Who do you think he is and what does he want?”

Ryland hesitated, as if unsure of the wisdom in sharing his theory. “I’m beginning to suspect that the poisoned berries from this morning were no accident, meaning this man is likely an assassin.” Despite his solemnity, his relief that he wasn’t inadvertently responsible was apparent, which dispelled the last of my half-hearted doubts concerning him; I’d been right to trust him after all.

Though I’d already come to this conclusion about the most likely culprit, fear still curled around my heart at hearing him confirm my suspicions. “Are they after me…or after the real princess?” If the latter, it appeared the role as decoy that I’d never asked for would continue for the remainder of my life, however short it might be.

“If they’re after the princess of Estoria, the fact that you used to bear the title is undoubtedly enough for them to eliminate you as a way to ensure the true one doesn’t escape.”

I sighed. “I never asked for this.” It was one thing to willingly accept the possibility of death when I’d chosen to marry Ryland for the sake of protecting my kingdom; if I was to die, I wanted it to be a sacrifice, not a meaningless murder at the hands of an assailant.

“No harm will befall you. I will protect you. I promise.” The truth of his vow filled his earnest gaze.

“Even though my death will solve all your problems?” I knew the accusation was unfair, but my fear was burrowed too deeply to uproot, my desperation for it not to be true, especially with how dear he was becoming.

“Perhaps it would solve many complications…except for my missing you.” Crimson stained his cheeks, as if he hadn’t meant to make such an admission out loud. The warmth of his words eased some of the icy terror’s sharp grip around my heart.

“You couldn’t rid yourself of me that easily; I’d return to haunt you, especially if I knew it’d bother you.”

The corner of his mouth curved slightly upwards, a welcome reprieve from the solemnity shrouding his expression. “Stubborn.” But unlike the first time he’d muttered this word, this time only fondness cradled his tone. His fingers fluttered to my cheek. “Promise me you’ll never be alone throughout the remainder of our journey. If there’s ever a time you suspect you’re being watched or followed, alert me or a guard at once.”

The plea seemed to come from a place deep inside of him, one I yearned to study in hopes of better understanding the emotions motivating his words. While I resented the loss of freedom that’d come with having a guard constantly tailing me, I found I wanted to obey his request anyway, especially when Ryland had become the new purpose I’d desperately been seeking.

“I promise.” Despite it being one that would only last until we annulled our marriage I made it all the same, anything to strengthen the threads connecting us.

Relief relaxed his tense posture. He nodded once and continued forward. Though silence settled between us, my mind continued to race in chaotic directions as I struggled to piece together the riddle consuming my thoughts: who was the assassin, and what did they want from me? They could be anyone in our entourage, even posing as one of our guards. The only one I truly felt safe with was Ryland; instinctively I pressed myself closer to him.

All thoughts of assassins disappeared when the trees thinned and opened up to a large, airy clearing large enough to fit a small village…a village that was nowhere in sight.

Horror seized my breath. “Is this—“

As if the curse’s magic lingered in the air, my words vanished the moment I caught sight of Ryland’s deepening horror. His complexion paled as his bulging eyes took in our surroundings, confirming what I feared: this was the location of the village we’d been searching for—or rather where it wassupposedto be…only it had disappeared, swallowed up by the disappearing curse without a trace.

Part of me hoped we’d mistaken the village’s location or that a wrong turn had led us to a conclusion far more devastating than the truth. Ryland managed to tear his devastated attention away to consult the map while I stepped away to begin looking around…only to freeze when I discovered evidence that robbed me of breath: remnants of a well, abandoned bricks from a cottage, furrows in the earth from a farm, patches of what had previously been a village. The disappearing curse had truly swallowed it up, save for these lingering shadows of what had once been.

Trapped in a daze, Ryland ventured farther into the abandoned clearing. I started to follow, but he immediately took hold of my shoulders. “No, Evelyn.”

His overwrought nerves caused the words to emerge far more fiercely than they otherwise might have, fueled by the raw panic that eclipsed his usual gentleness.

“Ryland, you can’t go alone. It’s too dangerous—“

“I need to understand the curse afflicting my people…and you need to stay safe.” His voice hitched, but his determination didn’t waver, even in the face of potential danger. He turned to one of our accompanying guards. “Make sure she stays back.”

With a bow, the guard obediently seized hold of my arm in a firm grip that would make it impossible for me to break free. I watched helplessly as Ryland walked farther and farther away; with fear’s unrelenting grasp, I felt as if I was sending my husband to war rather than into an abandoned clearing.

I ached to plead with him to be careful, but the words trapped in my throat. I watched him investigate with bated breath, all while I sent several prayers heavenward for no harm to befall him. Painful unease tightened my chest the deeper he ventured into what had once been the village. At my calm command, the guards holding me back relinquished their hold but still stood stiffly near by, sharing my tension as their own worried gazes followed each of the prince’s concentrated movements.

Worry furrowed Ryland’s brow when he found nothing. What was worse, there seemed to be no sign of the inhabitants who had once lived here, as if they’d never existed at all. Even from a distance, I could see the despair cloaking him, feel his shock and sense of hopelessness, hear the silent questions filling his mind. My own helplessness escalated at the sight. I’d never wished more for the magic he needed than I did in that moment.

As if attuned to my desperate pleas, my hands began to warm and tingle, just as they’d done when they’d pulled me from sleep two nights ago. The feeling grew, a ball of energy that expanded from my chest. I tried to contain it, but my control was weak, causing it to slip from my grip and manifest itself in a drop of golden sunshine that fell to the ground like rain. Where it touched seemed to bring back what had once been lost—a section of a flowerbed from a swallowed-up garden, a single restored piece of the disappeared village.

Startled, I stepped back so I was no longer in the guards’ line of sight and looked down at my hands, examining them front to back. HadIdone that? I tried to do it again, but whatever power had manifested seemed to have been fueled by my heartfelt wish rather than any conscious effort; try as I might, I couldn’t summon it again. The effort caused a headache to pulse in my temples, a sensation similar to what I’d felt before—as if something lay trapped inside me, vying to escape.

The sharp pain was so intense I scarcely noticed Ryland’s approach until he stood in front of me shrouded in discouragement. He heaved a frustrated sigh. “Nothing, just like every other time the curse has infected a village.”

My breath caught at this news. “You mean this has happened before? How often?”

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