CHAPTER 39: The Masked Man's Princess
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Nikolai allowed himself to be dragged all the way to the entrance of the festival before finally dragging them both to a stop.
Startled by the abrupt motion, Faye stumbled against the uneven stone road. Her instincts reacted immediately. She let go of his hand she didn't want to drag him down with her as she flailed for balance. The muddy streets mocked her. She sighed at the thought of soiling her clothes.
A steady arm caught her around the middle before she could crash face first into the street.
“Idiot,” a voice breathed in her ear. “Are you so eager to injure yourself?”
The warm breath tickled her neck. Faye’s face exploded in embarrassment. Pulling away quickly, she coughed awkwardly. “It’s fine.” The young woman scratched the back of her neck, trying to will the flush away. “I’m used to it. Handling pain comes second nature to me.”
“Not while I am around,” the masked man replied firmly.
Faye half-turned, staring at the other in silent shock. Her breath caught at the sincerity in the man’s voice. Looking away, Faye crossed her arms and grumbled, “I didn’t take you for a sweet talker, Snowfox.”
The young man sighed at the nickname. “Are you really going to keep calling me that?”
All he got in response was a mischievous smile. Barreling ahead, Faye gestured towards the busier streets of the festival.
“Don’t fall behind,” she called, but her voice lacked its usual bluster. As they strode down the cobblestone path, this time, she made sure to keep the space between them. Every once in a while, she would glance back to make sure he was still following.
As they weaved through the growing crowd of people, the masked man was like a blue shadow, quietly trailing behind the general as she fawned over the decorations and stalls of traveling merchants.
“There’s so many people,” Faye said, her eyes wide with wonder. “Have all the merchants come into town for this?”
The masked man shrugged, “The Spice Merchant likes to have her people here during the festivities.” He reached forward to gently pull the distracted general out of the path of a band of excited musicians. Playing a cheerful tune, they stomped down the streets with their instruments.
It was loud and colorful, unrestrained in a way the Morning Day Festival hadn’t been. There were fewer formalities as lovers and store owners alike made up their traditions, celebrating in their own chaotic ways.
In the sky, animal-patterned kites soared in the air. Their long tails fluttered in the gentle wind. On the ground, the children erupted into peals of laughter as they ran, watching in excitement as their colorful ribbons took to the skies.
Faye’s smile softened as she thought of the sheep-skinned kites she used to fly as a girl.
Beside her, the masked man noticed the longing gaze in her eyes as she watched the children.
“Do you,” the masked man hesitated, suddenly unsure what he was going to ask. Did she like the kites? “Do you want one?”
“My brothers and I used to fly our kites on the backs of horses,” Faye said, smiling at the fond memory. “We used to compete to see whose could go the highest.”
The masked man nodded silently, his gaze thoughtful.
In comparison to the clumsily made sheep skin, the children’s colorful kites were much more extravagant. She wondered if she could find a raven-themed one. She glanced back at her companion. He had stopped at one of the stalls, murmuring lowly to the merchant. Was it perhaps an informant, she wondered. “So diligent,” she laughed. Maybe Faye would get a fox-themed one. Her lips curved into a giddy smile.
Finishing his business, her companion came to join her. They walked side by side for a moment before he broke the silence.
“My lady,” he began. “What is the real reason you dragged me here?” His tone was teasing. “We both know Lord Nikolai said nothing about guarding you at a festival.”
Faye barked out a laugh, easily admitting to the lie. “I was so scared you weren’t going to play along!” she exclaimed.
“You? Scared?” the masked man huffed, almost shocked at the admission. “I find that hard to believe. You’re always so strong.” There was genuine admiration in his tone. “I think you’re one of the strongest people I know.”
Faye didn’t think it was possible, but her face flushed even redder. She hurried to change the subject.
“I was heading towards the festival when I saw you and Cristin.” She bit her lip, unsure whether to admit the next part. With a sigh, she threw caution into the wind. “I wanted to see you again.”
With a bashful smile, she bumped a playful shoulder against the taller man’s. “I figured this would be my only chance.”
Staring at him, the amber eyes formed crescents as she let out a small smile. Genuine happiness seemed to gleam in her eyes.
Suddenly, the chorus of people loudly talking and the sharp calls of the merchants faded into the background. For a moment, the world seemed to slow around them. Ever since he could remember, loud noises had always made him uncomfortable. Nikolai disliked the overwhelming crowds, but at that moment, Faye’s sincerity made everything else melt away. He felt the tension in his body loosen as he locked eyes with her. He opened his mouth, trying to form a response. You sought me out? The question burned at the tip of his tongue.
At his silence, Faye clasped her hands behind her back, twisting her fingers uneasily. “I never got to thank you properly.”
“Thank me?” Nikolai tilted his head. His mind flashed to the fight a few nights ago, of the raw fear in Faye’s eyes, the helplessness that had gripped her usually unshakeable form. A surge of anger rolled through him, but not at her. After a brief pause, he sighed, “It was nothing.”
“Not to me, it wasn’t,” Faye countered bluntly as she came to a sudden stop. Her tone was warm, but her gaze was searching. Her words seemed to carry a weight that was only for him to understand.
Without thinking, she reached out to grasp his right sleeve, holding him in place. “Usually, I’m the one doing the saving.” Her fingers curled around the fabric, and her touch was forcefully gentle. “That night, I was weak. If you hadn’t been there-” she cut herself off, laughing bitterly. “It wouldn’t have ended well.”
Nikolai reached up, covering the scarred hand with his own. It was warm. A quiet jolt ran through him. “I should have stepped in sooner,” he admitted softly. "I won't make that mistake again."
Faye’s head snapped up. Her amber eyes widened as if waiting for him to take his words back.
The masked man was amused. “Why are you so shocked?” His voice was low, softer, more certain. “I promised you wouldn’t get hurt, did I not? Not while I’m around.”
Faye swallowed, and something stirred in her chest, familiar and overwhelming. It had been so long since… Her eyes suddenly stung. Ducking her head, she forced a bright, cheerful laugh. “Oh, you’re hilarious, Snowfox.” She let go of his sleeve, stepping back before the warmth could linger any longer. “You know I don’t really need protection.”
From her pockets, Faye pulled out a thick bag of coins. “A debt is a debt.” She shook the small pouch, smirking at the sound of coins clinking against each other. “Whatever you want to eat, I’ll treat you!”
Even without seeing his face, Faye could feel the questioning stare he shot at the money bag. “I didn’t bring much coin from Feldgrau,” she hurried to explain. “So, I borrowed this from Nikolai. Don’t worry,” she sniffed, “I’ll pay him back.”
The masked man let out a sigh of relief.
“It’s fine,” he dismissed easily. “I don’t think he’ll care.”
Faye shot him a questioning look. For the Snowfox to say something like that…
The two continued down the busy street, their sleeves occasionally brushing.
“You and the lord are pretty close, aren’t you?” asked Faye.
"I-" Nikolai didn’t have a backstory for his alter ego. It was rare that he found himself in a situation where he needed to explain himself. A masked servant didn’t really spark most people’s curiosity. “I suppose.”
Faye hummed, noting the vague response.
She stared up at the bright decorations and smiled as the mix of music and chatter filled her ears. She had always known the capital of Feldgrau was filled with people, but it was entirely different to see them all gathered in one place. Not even Morning Day had collected such crowds as this.
Suddenly, a hungry growl pierced the air.
Nikolai’s head turned to stare down at the blushing general.
Feeling his gaze, the general laughed sheepishly. “I may have forgotten to eat before I left.” Her eyes drifted to the stalls filled with steaming food. Delicious aromas reached her nose but she couldn’t decide where to go.
With a helpless shrug, she decided to leave it up to chance. Pointing at the nearest stall, she said, “Let’s try this one.” Faye made to head in that direction.
To her surprise, she was pulled back. Faye looked up at the masked man, bewildered by the unusual action.
“No,” he said quietly. “This way.”
Nikolai didn’t know what compelled him to pull Faye along, but he let his body move through the crowd, weaving between the bodies of people without a second thought. He tugged gently until Faye was right beside him, close enough that he could see her. It was easy to get lost in such a crowd, he reminded himself.
Blue eyes searched the familiar streets, seeking a familiar landmark. They gazed around until they finally landed on their target. It had been years… His mouth watered at the old memories of eating here with… He shook the thoughts away.
“This one,” he said, nodding at the old stall.
An old woman with whiskers stirred a single large brass pot. The pot was almost as large as their owner.
Unlike the bustling stalls around them, this one was tucked away in the corner. A few silent patrons sat at the front. It stood in stark contrast to the other stalls, flashy and extravagant. The sign's paint was peeling, and some of the wooden chairs looked seconds away from breaking.
“Are you sure about this, Snowfox?” asked Faye hesitantly. “It looks… a bit empty.”
Nikolai turned back, catching the uncertain expression on the general’s face. “It's good!” he felt the sudden need to defend. “It has been a few years since I have stopped by, but their soups are delicious. My mother used to bring my brother and me all the time when we were children. It-“
A hand reached up to press gently at where his mouth would have been. For a split second, Nikolai imagined the cool press of metal replaced with the warmth of Faye’s hand. He startled and looked down at her, surprised by her grin.
“I’ve decided,” she smirked. “We’ll eat there, Snowfox.”
Nikolai could only manage a nod.
“But if it’s bad,” Faye continued, tone haughty like a spoiled noblewoman. “I refuse to pay.”
Nikolai snorted.
“Well, my lady.” There was a competitive edge to his voice as he challenged, “Prepare to pay up.”
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The white porcelain cup shattered, scattering into a million tiny pieces across the floor.
Elody gasped.
The royal guard, clearly deep in his cups, merely tossed his head back and laughed. “Are my words so shocking that the infamous Lady Elody dropped her cup?” The guard sneered meanly, but the viciousness wasn’t directed at the frozen artist before him. “But why? Everyone knows the queen hates the Ice Prince. It's common knowledge at this point!”
Elody quickly leaned down. Practiced apologies flew out of her lips. She gathered the small porcelain shards into her hands.
The artist winced. She stared down at the blood gathering in her palm. There was a jagged cut where the glass had sliced through her skin, but the pain barely registered in her frazzled mind.
The queen knew. The thought echoed in her mind, making her sick with each repetition.
The queen knew. Elody’s stomach churned as she pushed down the rising sickness. The queen knew that the Ice Prince was meeting with Langard and the others. She knew even though Elody had done her part and kept the secret. “But how?” she whispered to herself.
“Your sister,” answered the guard happily, clearly pleased with his own knowledge.
Elody jerked at the information, realizing she had spoken aloud. Her head snapped towards her customer. “My sister?”
“Apparently, she’s willing to testify in front of the court in the morning,” the guard scratched his beard. “Did she not tell you? I always heard the two of you were close.”
Elody’s eyes widened. Harmon would never do something so stupid, her mind insisted. Her elder sister was the rational one, the one who was perfect to a fault. The one who never made a mistake… until now.
Elody wanted to slap her past self. Harmon would never do something so stupid unless she believed it would save Elody. And though the artist wanted to fight the truth, she knew deep down that the guard wasn't the one who was lying. No one else knew. No one else could have told the queen.
The artist stared down at the painted shards of glass, shattered beyond repair. Maybe, she thought bitterly, this was the way it was supposed to be. Despite his threats, the Ice Prince hadn’t acted on them. Yet, Elody reminded herself harshly.
But what would he do when he inevitably found out? And even if he was out of the picture, what would happen to them when Feldgrau learned they had sold out their leader? Elody knew Harmon had been spying for a Feldgrau lord, the one who had lifted them out of poverty. What would be the punishment for betrayal?
Maybe it was best to let the queen bring down the Ice Prince and destroy Feldgrau along with it.
It was self-preservation. The sisters were only trying to survive. But the thoughts did nothing to quell the rising panic in Elody’s chest. She couldn’t help but think of her meeting with the queen. There was a cold, calculating darkness that had peaked through the woman’s indifferent eyes. The queen was not their ally. They were merely pawns, tools that would easily be discarded once they ran out of their use.
“It's a mess,” the guard chuckled. “Meeting with Langard and then adding on the rumors of weapon production in Feldgrau? This really is the last nail in the coffin,” burped the guard, clearly indifferent. “Didn’t know the Ice Prince had it in him.”
Elody swallowed her scathing words. If only the guard was aware of how little he knew of the Ice Prince’s true nature. The man was a random castle guard, nothing more than a lowly client. He would never have been graced with her presence if not for Madam Athena’s punishment.
“Honestly, it’s the Langards I feel bad for." The guard yawned, scratching his mouth without a care in the world. "At worst, the Ice Prince will be exiled, but the general’s family?” He exhaled shakily as if somewhat sobered by the thought.
Elody’s breath was lodged in her throat. “They’ll be executed for treason,” she whispered with absolute certainty.
“From Lady Langard to the servants,” confirmed the man. “Even that youngest boy of theirs.” His tone grew distant as he tried to recall, “The foolish one. What was his name again?”
“Rufus,” Elody breathed, trembling slightly.
“Ah, that’s right.” The guard absentmindedly picked at his ear. Seeing the artists’ distraught expression he offered a half-hearted attempt at comfort.“They might let him go,” he said, though his doubt was clear.
Elody willed herself to nod along. “Perhaps.”
The man sighed, “If they do let him live, he’ll be for the streets.” His eyes fixed on the courtesan with a piercing intensity. Scrambling forward, he reached out to take her hands. “Please be careful, Lady Elody. If that boy gets out of this alive, he’ll likely come after the two of you for revenge.”
“Excuse me?” snapped Elody, eyes flashing with anger.
“Men like that are unpredictable,” insisted the guard. “Wouldn’t you do the same?” His words were like nails against a board. Each word was like a hammer to her head. “If someone you trusted led to your family’s death? If they murdered your siblings and parents?”
Elody stared at the guard in disbelief. Still, her pulse raced. The thought of Rufus, the stupidly loyal boy who brought her treats and lamented about his troubles, paying extra so that she could rest but get paid… turning on her in hatred? It was unimaginable.
But she couldn’t help but wonder. If someone had killed Harmon, would she ever forgive them? The artist clenched her fists, ignoring the sting as the shards cut deeper into her flesh. “I would hate them forever,” she admitted under her breath.
“Exactly!” The guard rose unsteadily to his feet. But his movements were unusually swift for a drunk man as he picked up the tea on the table and downed the pot in one go.
“My wife hates when I drink,” he muttered absently.
What does she think of you visiting brothels, Elody sneered internally. But she held herself back with a demure smile. “Of course, sir,” she gestured elegantly towards the door. “Should I have more tea brought?”
“No need,” dismissed the man. He reached down for his ratty old cloak. “I’m heading out anyways.”
Elody blinked in surprise. “But sir,” she implored, adding a teasing lilt to her voice. If he stayed longer, she could gather more information from him. Elody gently pawed at his hand. “Your time with me isn’t up. It’d be a waste of good company… and coin.”
Her eyes searched the man’s face, trying to commit his plain features to memory in case they proved useful later.
But the guard smiled without any warmth, a thin, humorless smirk. He pushed open the door. “We’ll have to continue next time, I’m afraid.”
“Sir,” Elody cut in, desperate. “Can I at least have your name? Something to remember you by in the mean time?”
The man’s smirk deepened. “Some call me Eryck.”
The artist stiffened at the clear gleam in his gaze. Elody suddenly got the sense that the guard wasn’t who he claimed to be.
With a lazy wave, his parting words were, “Save the boy, Lady Elody.” And just like that, he was gone, vanishing behind the doors.
A stunned silence encapsulated the room.
Silently, the artist let the tears fall freely, unrestrained. Save the boy? The thought was laughable. What power did she have to do that?
In her peripherals, she caught sight of the delicate horse hair brushes and the other little trinkets Rufus had collected for her over the years. Her heart clenched.
Elody sank to her knees, hugging herself. “Rufus,” she whispered. “What do I do?”
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“This is delicious!” the young woman exclaimed. With a noodle string sticking out of her mouth, she slurped loudly before turning to her companion. “Snowfox, did you try this?”
The masked man glanced down at his identical bowl. “Yes,” he said calmly, but there was an exasperated fondness underneath the sharp edge of his words. “Focus on your food.”
With a happy nod, the young woman dove back to her bowl. She shoveled the food into her mouth with the fervor of a starved animal.
Like two opposites, the young man beside her ate slowly. Although it was quiet, his hunger was just as evident. He had lifted his mask just enough for his mouth to be visible, revealing a small smile as he ate.
The duo ate, in contrast, together.
What a sight, thought the old woman who ran the stall. It was rare to see such finely dressed citizens eating at her humble stall. She sighed wistfully. Although the memory was foggy, she could remember the well-dressed young woman who used to bring her two sons. It had been years since. The old woman scratched her cheek and wondered how the three were doing. The boys would have grown into men by now.
As if summoned by the thought, the young woman waved her hand eagerly, catching the old woman’s attention.
“Another bowl!” she demanded. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she flashed the old woman a wide, toothy grin. “Thank you!”
Crossing her arms, the old woman frowned. “You better have enough coin to pay for all this.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she headed to grab her ladle.
The young woman froze. She reached into the folds of her cloak, face paling. Her amber eyes darted to the stack of bowls as if just noticing them.
It was at that moment that her silent companion finally spoke. Reaching into his own cloak, he pulled something out.
“Is this enough?” he asked, setting a heavy pouch of coins onto the table and sliding it towards the old woman. “You can keep the extras.”
The old woman’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s too much!” Grabbing the pouch, she took only what was owed and shoved the rest back towards the masked man. “We’re running an honest establishment here!”
The old woman ladeled another bowl of soup with practiced ease. The boiling liquid was creamy and pale. A perfect blend of meat and vegetables floated within the bowl. Its aroma was heavenly. “You need the coin more than I do,” she called towards the couple, “especially if you want to afford to keep that one fed.”
The jab seemed to go entirely over the young woman’s head, while her masked partner snorted.
“You have a good eye, girl.” As the old woman placed the bowl in front of the young woman, she couldn’t resist offering a sly remark. “Smart to pick such a doting husband, young lady.” She raised a brow, shooting the masked man a look. “Your wife eats like a barbarian. Is she like this at home too?”
“Yes,” came the instant reply.
The young woman choked. Face reddening, she pounded her own chest, spluttering, “No!” She hastily tried to explain. “You misunderstood, we’re not like that!”
“So, you’re not married?” The old woman raised her wooden ladle. She pointed at the two of them, sitting so close together their knees were touching. “Then, what are you? Star-crossed lovers?” She squinted, eyeing the young man suspiciously. “Is that why you got a mask? Are you two running away to elope?”
“I’m already married,” Faye muttered, voice tinged with embarrassment. “And he is not my husband.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” the old woman quipped sharply.
“He’s my guard!” Faye exclaimed, crossing her arms.
The old woman shot her a deadpan look. She looked ready to argue, but instead shook her head with a resigned sigh. “You don’t look like a fancy lady to me,” she remarked, her gaze glancing over Faye’s militant uniform. In comparison, the masked man was better dressed. “Why would you need a guard?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Faye snapped, slapping a hand on the table. The empty bowls shook at the force. She jabbed a finger at the old woman. “I’ll have you know that I’m actually-“
The masked man suddenly stood. Before she could continue, he grabbed the young woman by the arm, pulling her to her feet. “Thank you for the food,” he said, cutting the young woman off as he dragged his protesting charge away. “Have a good evening.”
“Let me at her, Snowfox!” shouted the young woman despite not fighting the hold. “Hey! I didn’t finish my soup.”
The masked man sighed audibly. “We can get more food later if you want.”
Her eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Really?”
His nod seemed to appease her. And the two quickly disappeared back the way they came, the echo of their bickering fading into the air.
The old woman snorted as she watched them go. “Those two are lying,” she remarked.
One of her customers laughed in agreement. “Definitely!”
The old woman chuckled to herself, picking up the bowls. “Not eloping, my ass!”
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Nikolai spared a glance at the fuming young woman beside him.
He couldn’t believe she was still mad.
“That darn old woman,” Faye muttered under her breath. She had crossed her arms. The exaggerated pout on her lips made her look like a petulant child.
Nikolai’s lips twitched at the sight. “Relax, Princess,” he said, a trace of amusement in his voice. “We’ll get you more food.”
Faye stiffened. Her eyes darted to glance up at him before hurriedly looking away. Her cheeks colored just slightly. She slapped two hands over them, trying to hide her face.
Nikolai hesitated at the sudden shift. Was it something he had said? “My lady,” he started, a little hesitant.
With a dramatic swish of her cloak, Faye hastened her pace and sped ahead, leaving him trailing behind.
The young man cursed. He hurried to catch up. “My lady, I apologize,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Did I upset you? Was it something that I said?” He paused as a thought struck him. “Are you mad I dragged you away from that stall?”
Faye shook her head but her pace continued briskly. “No!” Her voice was rising in pitch. "I'm not mad!"
"You are clearly upset," Nikolai felt a helpless sort of frustration bubble within him. "All I did was call you-" His voice trailed off.
“It’s nothing at all!” she blurted out.
Nikolai couldn’t help but notice the deep flush that crawled up the back of her neck, blooming across her cheeks. Her eyes were fixed stubbornly on the pavement.
Nikolai’s gaze sharpened. Without thinking, he reached forward, fingers curling around her wrist as he pulled her back, pressing her into him. A sharp gasp left Faye’s lips as she collided against him, her hands instinctively bracing against his chest.
The moment stretched between them, their breaths uneven. Not saying a word, Nikolai nodded silently at the incoming carriage Faye had almost walked into.
They both breathed hard at the almost accident. The chill of the late hour nipped at their skin, but where they were pressed together, there was only warmth. The lingering heat, steady and comfortable was addictive. For a moment, both were reluctant to move away.
“Watch where you’re going!” came the angry holler from the carriage driver. He barked out some rude phrases as his wheels clattered past.
Amber eyes flashed. Faye straightened but the words got caught in her throat. She barely managed to turn her head before she felt it, a warm breath ghosted against the shell of her ear. Her breath hitched.
“You need to be more careful,” came the soft murmur. Then, after a deliberate pause, he added, voice dripping with wicked amusement. “Princess.”
Faye whipped around to meet Nikolai’s gaze. Her face erupted in embarrassment. “Shut up, Snowfox!”
Nikolai huffed a quiet laugh, stepping back just in time as she shoved herself free. Faye nearly tripped in her haste to put distance between them. With a shake of his head, he followed behind at an easy pace, the smirk evident even beneath the mask.
Faye whirled around. “Hurry up!”
“Coming, my princess.”
A furious finger pointed at him. “I will kill you!”
But her steps were quick, and the heat in her cheeks refused to fade. A warm feeling bloomed in her chest.