Page 11 of The Masked Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods 1)

I’m just driftingwhen a rap at the nearby window scares me half to death. I bolt upright, clutching the sheets to my chest.

The candles still glow in the hearth, lending a cheerful ambiance to the room. I tried to blow them out when I retired, but they resisted my attempts, charmed with some wondrous Fae magic, no doubt. Their light is welcome now.

The knock sounds again, and a whimper escapes my lips. What horrifying beast is out there? Did the goblins realize I escaped their clutches? Did they follow my trail?

Is it something worse than goblins?

“Alice,” I hear muttered through the glass. “Open the door.”

Recognizing the annoyed tone, I rush for the window…and then I pause. Are there Faerie creatures who can imitate voices? With damp palms, I push back the curtain just a smidgen to peep out, keeping myself hidden just in case something dark and scary waits on the other side.

And it is someone dark and scary—but a familiar someone. Though the bandit certainly makes a terrifying figure on the moonlit balcony, dressed in black, his face shadowed by his hat and his eyes masked, his presence fills the hollow pit in my stomach.

I pull the drapes away from the door and unlatch the lock.

“What are you doing?” he demands in a whisper, stalking inside the room without an invitation or a proper greeting. “Why are you still here?”

“I told you—I’m going to save my brother.”

He’s a tall man, taking up a good deal of the balcony doorway. I should be intimidated, but I’m not.

“You have no supplies,” he points out. “How do you plan to barter for your brother’s freedom?”

“Lord Ambrose has graciously allowed me to take a position here until I may buy some more.”

“A position doing what?” He paces in front of the door. “You must not stay. Let me take you back tonight. I’ll pay for a room at Hotel Dinmont—a night for every day of the month. Surely you can convince a suitor to marry you in that time.”

“Why would you do that?” I narrow my eyes at him, wishing I could see him better. The candlelight is too dim, and he’s cautious to use that to his advantage.

He pauses, turning to me, his eyes shaded by the brim of his hat. “Because it’s dangerous for you to remain here.”

I soften toward the small slice of chivalry that remains in him despite his profession.

“Lord Ambrose was a bit harsh, but he wasn’t unkind,” I say. “I think I’ll be all right.”

He glances at the wall, frowning as if there is something beyond it.

“What?” I ask warily.

“Your kind Lord Ambrose’s rooms are next to yours.”

I gasp before I can stop myself. “Truly?”

He tilts his head as if to make a point. “Are you sure you want to be that close to the master of the house?”

The idea is unsettling, but I won’t be swayed. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”

“Don’t you wonder why he’d choose to keep you so close?” he asks, sounding frustrated.

“Do you think he means to hurt me?”

The bandit pauses, pondering the question, and then he bites out an answer I don’t expect. “No.”

It’s almost as if he hates admitting it but has no choice.

“But that doesn’t mean there aren’t others in this house who would wish you harm,” he adds.

“I’ll lock the door,” I promise. “You needn’t worry about me—I’ll be cautious.”