Page 45 of The Masked Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods 1)

ALICE

The knock at the balcony door is so unexpected, I slosh tea onto my hand.

Quickly, I set the cup in its saucer and wipe up the mess before hurrying toward the door. I peek through the curtain, hoping.

The bandit waits in the dark, his wide-brimmed hat clutched in his hands.

I throw open the door.

“Two nights in a row?” I whisper with a grin. “What have I done to earn such a thing?”

He steps inside, softly shutting the door behind him. He’s so tall, I feel dwarfed next to him.

Exactly as tall as Brahm.

My eyes fall on the bandage at his throat, and my thoughts churn with confusion. I was so sure…

“How’s your neck?” I ask.

When he doesn’t answer, I grow worried. Stepping closer to inspect the injury, I ask, “Did you go to the apothecary?”

“My neck is fine,” he finally says, taking my hand in his before I can fuss over the bandage.

“Then why do you look like you’re in pain?” I whisper.

“I am.” He looks down at our clasped hands. “But not from a physical affliction.”

“All right… Then why are you here?” Quickly, I add, “Not that you aren’t welcome.”

He interlaces his fingers with mine. “I just wanted to see you.”

“Something happened.”

After several heavy seconds, he nods.

“But you can’t tell me what it was?”

“I don’t think it would be wise.”

I hate that he’s keeping so much from me, but I don’t know what to do about it. Maybe the best thing I can do is show him he can trust me.

“I have tea.” I tug him toward the small table. “Have a cup.”

But instead of letting me lead him, he steps up behind me, wraps his arm around my shoulders, and tucks me close. His cheek presses against mine, and the soft satin of his mask brushes against my temple.

“I’ll leave if you ask me to,” he murmurs.

“Why would I do that when I’ve been waiting for you for weeks?” I say, working hard to keep my voice steady so he won’t know how deliciously flustered I am. “And this time, you’re not even covered in blood.”

He laughs softly near my ear. The sad sound of it tugs at my heart.

“How was your day?” he asks. “You’re working in the conservatory, is that right?”

“My day was fine, and I was relieved of my position this evening.” I angle my head to look at him. “Lord Ambrose said I am now a guest.”

“He must be fond of you,” the bandit says quietly.

“Do you think?”