Page 75 of The Masked Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods 1)

“Was worth it.”

I blink quickly, wondering if my heart can handle so many emotions in such a short time. Carefully, I slide the precious document into the case and then clutch it to my chest. “Words don’t seem sufficient, but Brahm—I’m so grateful.”

“Now you may open the other.” He sits on the settee and motions for me to join him.

Carefully, I set the package on my lap and untie the cheery red satin ribbon. When I pull back the brown paper, it reveals a wooden box. It’s wide and only a few inches tall, about the size of a large legal document.

“Open it,” Brahm coaxes.

I smile at him, wondering what could be in such a flat package. When I pull away the lid, I find my reflection staring back at me.

Carefully, I pull out the rectangular mirror, running my finger over the silver edging. It’s Fae crafted, intricate and rare. Brahm has included a stand as well. The highly polished hickory is shaped like two identical flourished Ls, and they’re hinged on the long side. When opened, the stand will cradle the mirror, allowing it to rest on a table or vanity.

“It’s beautiful,” I say quietly.

“I want to commission you for a painting, and I hoped it would be useful.”

Intrigued, I turn to him.

“Instead of painting me, I want you to paint a self-portrait.” His smile flickers. “So I can remember you.”

Immediately, I set the mirror back into the box. “Remember me?”

“You can’t come back into Faerie, Alice,” he says gently. “We already discussed this.”

“But…” I shake my head, not liking the direction of the conversation. “I promised I wouldn’t go back without you—not that I wouldn’t return at all.”

He reaches for my hand as he studies me. “Do this for me, and I will free your brother.”

“That’s not fair,” I whisper. “You can’t ask me to choose between him and you.”

Brahm leans forward, speaking volumes with his dark brown eyes. He brushes my hair back, looking as if he’s struggling as well. “I’m not asking you to choose, Alice. This isn’t up for negotiation.”

I pull away, setting the box aside as I stand. As I try to put my thoughts in order, I walk to the window. This can’t be a goodbye, not today of all days.

Hugging myself, I stare at the snow, wondering how it could suddenly seem so much colder in here than it does out there.

Brahm steps up behind me. “I let this go too far—I began to care for you in ways that aren’t allowed. I cannot let myself love you, Alice. And I cannot let you love me.”

In my reflection, a lone tear spills down my cheek. In all my recent daydreams, we were together. We somehow found a way to end his mother’s tyrannical rule, and we were happy.

But that’s all they were—dreams.

I knew in my heart that Brahm and I couldn’t live that life. Who’s ever heard of a Fae man marrying a human woman? It’s absurd.

Slowly, I turn to look at him. “Then make me your illanté. I’ve lost too many people. I don’t want to lose you as well. I’ll live with you as an obligation if you let me, a friend only. And if I love you in silence, that’s my choice—not yours.”

“No.” The word is a whisper, voiced like a caress. “I will not allow you to forfeit your future for me.”

“Shouldn’t I have the right to choose?”

“I want you to get married and have a family,” he continues. “Spend holidays in this room with a real Year’s End tree. Your past was so turbulent, Alice, and much of that has been my family’s fault. I want you to have the best life possible. And that life isn’t as my illanté, and it’s certainly not in Faerie.”

I stare at him. “So, this is it? Our last day then?”

Solemnly, he nods.

In a flat tone, wishing we could start the morning over and avoid the conversation, I ask, “How will I deliver the portrait to you?”

“Wallen will fetch it in a month, and then he will see to Gustin’s release.”

“Fine,” I say, “I don’t want to speak of it anymore. If our time is short, let’s enjoy what we have left and put the rest out of mind.”

Brahm’s expression eases with relief. He takes both of my hands and nods. “It’s my first Year’s End. Let’s celebrate it properly.”