Page 8 of The Masked Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods 1)

Alice turns her eyes on me, and she freezes.

She recognizes me.

No…perhaps not. It’s fear in her expression, nothing more. Her hand moves to her stomach as if she’s suddenly queasy, and her eyes sweep over me, wide and terrified.

Surely if she realized I was the man who brought her here, she would appear more at ease.

After a long moment, she drops into a graceful curtsy. “Good evening, Lord Ambrose. Please forgive my impertinent visit, but I didn’t know how to send you a message, and I am desperate to speak with you.”

“Desperate even,” I say coolly. “What business, exactly, could one of your kind have with me?”

She slowly raises her eyes to mine—her blue eyes. Startlingly blue, like the sky on a cloudless day.

The woman is stunning.

I knew she was beautiful in the woods, but seeing her in good lighting…

And she looks so much like—but no. Her hair, her eyes…they’re both wrong.

Gulping back her fears, she lifts her chin. “I have come to ask you to forgive my brother’s crimes and request you release him from the debtor’s prison.”

“Who is your brother?” I ask with practiced indifference, glancing down to adjust the right cuff of my jacket, watching her from the corner of my vision.

Alice pauses, looking as if she’s mustering courage once more. Her bravery ebbs and flows like a wave on the shore, retreating and then pushing forward. “Lord Gustin Gravely.”

I turn to Regina. “Am I familiar with a man by the name of Gustin?”

She frowns, hating it when I play my part. But another watches as well—and he is loyal to my mother. Ian Treald, Count of Chadelaine, has just wandered into the foyer. He leans against a wall, observing our exchange.

Two more show up behind him—a pair of housemaids that are more trouble than they’re worth. They watch with feline interest, their eyes on Alice.

My audience is hoping I will make a fool of this naïve human who dared set foot in my estate at this hour. After all, that’s what’s expected of me.

“Yes,” Regina says to me. “He’s the man who wagered his estate in a game of cards two days ago.”

I make a bored noise.

“Please, my lord,” Alice says, stepping forward, her unsettling eyes begging for mercy. “I do not ask you to return our family home, but if you could find it in your heart to forgive my brother’s crimes…”

“Your brother failed to mention the bank owned ninety percent of the property in which he offered. If I had lost, he would have been a great deal wealthier. Don’t you believe your brother should be held to the terms in which we set at the beginning of the wager?”

Alice blinks at me. Again, she runs a nervous hand down her stomach, drawing my attention to the dirt-smudged skirt hem and the snags in the once-fine fabric.

“Ninety percent?” she asks softly.

“Your brother is a chronic gambler. I daresay this end was inevitable.” Unable to keep my eyes on her heartbroken ones, I look away. “There is nothing I can do.”

I begin to turn, waving my hand at Regina to show her I’m dismissing the girl.

“Wait!” Alice commands, making me pause.

I look back over my shoulder and raise an eyebrow.

“The truth is, I paint portraits,” she says in a rush. “I’m talented. I had hoped that you would allow me to paint you in exchange for Gustin’s freedom.”

“Where are your supplies?” I ask, purposely jerking my head to the empty doorway.

She blanches. “They were destroyed by goblins on the way here.”