Page 58 of A Beautifully Crafted Lie

“Which is?” There’s a calmness in his tone, as if he’s genuinely interested. I frown, staring forward.

Twigs snap as he climbs up to sit beside me on the fallen tree, causing it to rock slightly under his weight. I raise an eyebrow at him. “I thought you said one truth?”

He chuckles, his laughter echoing in the stillness around us. “Slìbhìn…”

“I don’t like the name you’ve given me. I’m not sly and untrustworthy. At least, that’s not what I want to be.” I hang my head, giving him a second truth. Closing my cloak around my chest, I seek solace in its warmth.

His voice softens as he says, “I’m sorry. I won’t use it again.” A weight eases from my shoulders when I look at him, the prince of darkness, reclining against the roots of the tree as though it were the backrest of a couch.

“Declan views me as breakable. Small. If he knew about the lashings, it would give him another reason to shelter me. He’s supposed to help me forget about the things that happen within the walls of the manor. If I see his pity, I won’t be able to escape it.” I’m met with a look I hadn’t seen on him before.

“Your turn.” His voice is a rumbling whisper as he leans against a branch with one foot propped on the stump. I take a moment to admire him—the way his black-on-black attire suits him, in harmony with the intensity of his gaze, in agreement with every feature on his face, and so in disagreement with how casual he looks.

“Why am I here?”

I sense his discomfort as he runs a hand down his face, groaning. “Ask me something else… a favourite meal, perhaps. Something that won’t make you hate me.”

“Odhran.” I raise a brow at him. If I had to answer honestly, so does he. “I already know your favourite meal.”

“Doubtful.” He huffs an unamused laugh.

“I gave you three truths. The least you can do is give me this one.” My fingers drum against the branch in my grip.

“I saw what your stepmother and governess did.” His lip curls into an expression somewhere between rage and disgust. “I needed to get you out. If I can’t save myself, I’ll save you instead.”

What happened to you? I want to ask, but guilt swallows the question completely. Eadan’s words fill my mind. How deep do you want to wade into this? Asking him outright feels too personal, a commitment I’m not ready to make.

“So, not selfless at all.” I huff an uncomfortable laugh.

“Not entirely, no.” He stares into the darkness.

I swallow, moving on to my next question. “The ravens in my room? Was that you?”

With the twist of his wrist, he summons a raven to roost on the branch in my grip. “I should have torn those two women apart right there. I should have ended them in that instant. More so, I should have let you do the honours.”

“Thank you.” The memory of those ravens, their presence keeping the loneliness at bay, brings warmth to my cheeks. They saved me from drowning in my despair. He saved me. More than once. We’re both broken, more alike than we care to admit. Reaching for the raven, I offer it my hand, and it climbs on without hesitation. Its nails are sharp, and it’s much heavier than I anticipated. It’s beautiful, a dreary beauty that calls to something deep within me.

Odhran clears his throat, adjusting his position on the stump beside me. “Last truth before we go.” He swings his leg off the stump to face in the same direction I am. The rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets provide a comforting backdrop to our conversation. “Do you hate me for taking you away?”

Something turns within me. My answer should be yes, was yes shortly after my arrival, but since then, something’s changed. The scent of dirt and rotted foliage grounds me. My fingers pick at the rough edges of bark beneath them. The raven tilts its head, analysing me with an eye of light grey.

“No. Not anymore.” The words escape me, carrying a mix of honesty and uncertainty. Despite Declan’s promise to liberate me from Odhran’s control, I can’t deny the strange sense of safety I feel under his roof. It’s a place where I can unleash my emotions without restraint. A freedom I’ve never experienced before, not in the manor nor with Declan. With Odhran, I’m free to be me, unafraid of what anyone will think or say.

He hops off the stump, landing gracefully on the slippery slope below. “Trust me,” he says, and I realise that I already do. The raven takes to the sky, wind whistling between its feathers.

I slide off the stump, and Odhran catches me, his hands gripping my waist as he slowly lowers me to the ground. For a moment, I’m the foolish girl who wishes to stop time. Our eyes meet, and it feels like he sees entirely too much. His throat bobs, but then he turns, leading me down the path.

We reach a clearing in silence. He takes my hand, urging me to stop. “We’re here,” he whispers in my ear.

The grass sways in a silvery blue, blanketed by impenetrable mist. A vast meadow stretches out in front of us, circled by mountains and forest. My chest tightens with familiarity.

“I know this place,” I gasp. Memories flick through my mind like pages of a book caught in the wind. This is the meadow where my town stood. Right there, at the centre. My heart stops beating. My eyes stop seeing. Where is it?

“It is not gone, young one.” Aed’s voice is a rough caress. “It is simply another side of the same coin. Veiled to separate the two realms.” They’ve been here all along, wandering in the woods, only we couldn’t see them.

“It’s almost midnight.” Odhran takes a seat on a large boulder, patting the area next to him, beckoning me to join. “Don’t make a sound when they come. They don’t favour being disturbed.” I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I nod anyway. My heart pounds in my chest, the rhythmic thumping echoing in my ears as I take my place beside him on the boulder. A shiver runs down my spine, and goosebumps rise on my arms. I steal a glance at him, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the moon.

He stares across the field, but it feels like he’s watching me too.