Page 3 of The Masked Princess

Her relief was short-lived when a low laugh behind her made her turn. A large man stood in the shadows of the alleyway. The leer on his face made the hair on the back of Annalise’s neck stand up, and she took a step back toward the main square, which was still embroiled in chaos.

“Leaving so soon, Princess? I don’t think so.”

In three swift steps, the man closed the space between them, grabbed her arm, and yanked her into the darkness of the alley.

CHAPTER 2

Up close, the man’s stinking breath wafted over Annalise like miasma from rotting garbage. His worn leather vest had several deep scratches, and there were dark stains on his pants that looked like blood.

“Let me go. You don’t know what you risk by being near me,” she said. She tried to yank her arm away, but he held on with an iron grip.

“You think I don’t know who you are, Princess?” The man’s laugh sent a shiver of icy fear down Annalise’s spine. “No, I’ve heard plenty of tales about your curse. The ability to kill someone with merely a touch makes you quite a powerful lady. I know of several people who would pay nicely for such a weapon.”

“I said let me go,” Annalise repeated.

“I will, eventually.” He smiled widely, revealing a mouth full of broken and missing teeth. “But first, I think I’m going to take something of yours. Perhaps a finger… no, a hand. It should stay fresh long enough for me to find a buyer.”

“I’m warning you one last time. If you don’t let me go, you will dearly regret it.”

“You don’t scare me, little princess. I’ll just take what I need and then I’ll be on my way.” The man jerked her to the side of the alley, where a heap of dirty boxes were stacked haphazardly.

She tried to scratch and claw at his face, but her glove rendered her efforts useless. He shoved her away, then wrenched her back, stretching her arm over the top of the barrel and pinning it under his. She cried out at the sudden sharp pain in her shoulder. While he scanned the wall, Annalise undid the ties of her mask with her free hand. It fell to the ground.

Annalise was running out of time, and despite her hatred of her curse, she couldn’t think of an alternative. As he drew a long, chipped dagger from a holster at his side and raised it over her arm, Annalise gathered as much saliva as she could muster and spat.

Her spit arced through the air and landed on his cheek. The skin underneath immediately turned a bright red, and then a purple rash spread outward. Her assailant flinched and shouted, then dropped his dagger and wiped his face.

“I’ll pay you back for that,” he growled as he pulled another knife from his belt. “You won’t get away so easily, and now that I know your curse is so powerful, I’ll be sure to take plenty of samples.”

When the man returned his focus to her trapped arm, Annalise lifted her free hand to her mouth and pulled off her glove. She wasn’t sure if it was carelessness on his part, but his sleeves were loose and his arms bare. As he lifted his knife above his head, she reached toward his hand holding the knife.

She grabbed his wrist, forced him to drop the knife, and contorted her body to claw at his face again, gouging scratches from his temple down to his chin. The effect was immediate; he howled in pain and stepped away from her, clutching his face with his good hand. Red streaks appeared over his wrist and raced up his arm, followed by deep purple bruising and black veins that formed spiderwebs under his skin. Within seconds, his face was fully purple. As the full effect of the curse spread, his skin turned black and disintegrated, floating up into the air. He had the time for two inhuman screams before the curse reached his throat, leaving him with only a few gargles and wheezes before he finally lay still.

It had been several years since Annalise last saw her curse in full effect, and she’d long prayed she would never see it again. But, as she watched the stranger fall to the ground, his body crumbling in front of her eyes, she thought of his evil intentions and for the first time wondered if perhaps her curse could also be a blessing.

The curse swept over the last of the man’s body, leaving behind a corpse blackened and charred beyond recognition. The air was dusty, but there was no smell or any other indication of their struggle.

Shouts from the market square broke Annalise’s focus, and the full realization of what just happened hit her along with an overwhelming wave of nausea. She turned to the alley and emptied her stomach, leaning against the dingy wooden wall of the building like it was a lifeline in a stormy sea. Long after her stomach was empty, she continued to dry heave, as if that would help expel the memory of the man’s odious breath, his hands on her, and his last screams.

Once she was finally done, she picked her mask up from the ground and struggled to catch her breath.

“Your Highness, are you okay?” Priscilla asked from behind her.

Annalise jumped and turned, clutching her mask like it was a token to ward off bad luck. Priscilla’s eyes widened as she took in the scene—from Annalise’s unmasked face, to her ungloved hand, to the corpse.

“What happened?” The concern in Priscilla’s voice was clear, and she stepped toward Annalise, but stopped immediately when Annalise raised her bare hand.

“Stay back for a moment, please.” She tried to lift her mask to her face, but her hands were trembling so much she didn’t trust herself to hold it in place. Instead, she set it to the side to pick up her glove from the ground. “This man assaulted me. Not only that, but he knew of who I was and he attempted to cut off my hand so he could sell my curse to the highest bidder. To stop him, I was forced to act, and the results are what you see in front of you.” Annalise finished donning her glove and straightened her dress before patting her hair to make sure it was still in place. Though the curse didn’t extend to her hair, she usually kept it braided and up just in case.

“Oh Princess Annalise,” Priscilla said, her voice breaking as if she was about to cry.

Annalise held out her mask to Priscilla with a rueful smile. “Would you mind helping me with this? I’d do it myself, but I’m afraid my hands won’t stop shaking.”

To her credit, Priscilla didn’t hesitate. She took the mask from Annalise, positioned it on her face, and then tied the ends behind her head.

“What will we do about the body?” Priscilla asked.

“We’ll wait for the guards to come back, tell them what happened, and then let them deal with it.”