Page 19 of The Masked Princess

The finality in her words sent a shiver of fear down Soren’s spine.

CHAPTER 13

As preparations swirled around the castle for Annalise’s departure, Soren spent nearly every day as her constant shadow—not that she was complaining. Annalise thoroughly enjoyed his company, and their friendship had picked up almost exactly where they’d left it over a decade before.

While Soren took his role as her protector seriously, instead of keeping her locked behind closed doors, he pushed her to get out of the castle more. Annalise had protested at first, citing the risk to the citizens, but he’d assuaged her concerns almost as fast as she’d spoken them aloud. Since then, they’d taken long walks together nearly every day. At his insistence and encouragement, she’d spent more time outside in the past week than she had in the months before.

They usually started with the castle gardens before looping through the streets in the Upper District, which housed the nobility and wealthiest of merchants. Today, the plan was to walk all the way through Dovelan as a kind of informal farewell tour before her rapidly approaching departure. The increase in distance made her nervous, especially considering what happened the last time she walked through the market, but Soren’s steady presence at her side reassured her, and her anxiety only simmered under the surface.

Annalise had just finished tying the ribbons of her mask when there was a knock at the door to her chambers. Priscilla opened the door for Soren as Annalise swung her fur-lined cloak around her shoulders.

“Are you ready for your daily walk, Your Highness?” he asked.

“Give me one more moment,” she said, sliding her feet into her boots.

“Don’t worry, your guards are waiting for us at the castle gatehouse. We’re in no rush. Actually, before we go, I wanted to show you something.”

Annalise looked up as she finished tying her shoes. “Oh? What is it?” she asked.

He held out a mask. It was an inverse of her own, made of ebony black as night. Instead of the beautiful intricate carvings of her ivory mask, this one only had a handful of lines meant to give shape to the face. “What do you think?” A faint blush spread over Soren’s cheeks.

She looked closely at the mask, examining its fine craftsmanship and sleek design before handing it back to him. “It’s lovely, but I already have a mask.”

“It’s not for you; it’s for me.” He scuffed the toe of his boot against the stone floor, then looked at her. As usual, something about his warm amber gaze drew Annalise in. “It’s not fair that you’re the only one who has to wear one. As your protector and your friend, I won’t let you suffer alone anymore.” He took the mask from her and lifted it to his face, but she stopped him before he could fasten the ties.

Her vision swam as unshed tears threatened to fall, but her voice didn’t waver. “Please keep it off. You don’t understand what you’re offering. For others to never see your emotions, to never feel the caress of a soft breeze across your cheek, to always be hidden behind something cold and unfeeling… I wouldn’t wish for this burden to be placed on anyone else for even a second, especially not you.”

He wrapped his fingers around hers and gave them a gentle squeeze. “And yet, I would still assume this burden so as to have something to share with you.”

His words almost made her tears spill. Annalise didn’t know why, but whenever she was in his presence, she seemed to spend half of the time on the verge of crying and the other half smiling like a fool. “Then please live as I cannot. It would make this existence of mine even more unbearable if one of my dearest friends weren’t able to express himself as I so wish to.” She looked out the window at the tree in the garden, the last of the bronzed autumn leaves barely hanging onto its branches. “Besides, you already spend so much time with me, much more than necessary. If you wear that mask, it will hinder your attempts to court a lady, and I’d feel terrible about getting in the way of you and your future. Although perhaps you think me foolish for thinking so. I suppose once I’m with the Rhinneans, you won’t have to worry about my feelings anymore and will be free to spend your time as you like. When you return, you won’t have any trouble finding a suitable wife with your family name, titles, and list of accomplishments, not to mention the favor of the king.”

“I don’t think I could ever stop worrying about your feelings, even if I wanted to.” Soren coughed into his elbow and then straightened. “Besides, as I’ve told you before, I didn’t come back to Dovea to find a wife.”

“That’s not what the servants are saying.”

He held the door open for her, and they left the chamber, Priscilla trailing as Annalise’s ever-present chaperone now that the initial rush of planning and packing her trousseau had died down. “And you are intimately acquainted with all the servant gossip?” Soren asked.

“You can learn a lot from gossip. Many of them speak freely in my presence. Plus, Priscilla keeps me well abreast of anything I might have missed.”

“The servants speak freely in front of you? How’d you manage that?”

They exited the castle, and Annalise lifted her face to the sun, wishing she could feel its weak rays on her skin. “I think it’s the mask—it’s a lot easier for people to forget who I am when they can’t see my face. Sometimes it’s almost like they forget I’m there. Imagine that—the curse isn’t just deadly, it also makes me invisible. I’m sure your father would love to have a spy with that kind of power.” She laughed, but it rang a touch too hollow, and he shook his head.

“Do you disagree?” she asked.

“Not at all; I am only in awe at how little bitterness there is in your voice. It is truly a wonder. You are quite a remarkable woman.”

Annalise wasn’t sure how to respond to him; his compliments always engendered a warm sensation in her chest that left her speechless. Thankfully, a distraction was provided in the form of the castle gatehouse, and after Soren gathered the guards assigned to her duty for the outing, they set out for the town.

They reached the Guild District of Dovelan and stopped by the Guild of Healing first.

Guildmaster Trenk bowed to Annalise before opening a side door at the edge of the main room. “Please, Your Highness, as a show of our deep gratitude for your continued patronage, allow me to show you around the guild. Our novice healers are currently learning how to make poultices for minor wounds, and one of our journeymen is back from a long trek abroad. He’s brought several new plants and knowledge from Rhinnea, where he’s spent the past year wandering through distant hamlets and learning from their peasantry.”

“Thank you. As I’m sure you can imagine, I’d appreciate any chance to learn more about Rhinnea,” Annalise said.

Master Trenk led her to a room in the innermost keep. He opened a thick wooden door to reveal a young man bent over a table. With one hand he wrote in a thick book while he surveyed a dried bunch of herbs with the other.

Guildmaster Trenk cleared his throat, and the young man looked up and set his pen and herbs to the side.