Page 59 of The Faceless Queen

Lord Dovan led us part of the way alongside the field, and then as promised, behind the pavilions for more privacy. As we approached ours, and I saw the purple flags and sigils of the Spartvan unicorn, the music grew louder. It turned out that the musicians playing had been stationed to perform right in front of our dais. Then he led us along the field and gestured to the steps of our dais we were to climb up to take our seats.

I eyed the group of musicians, recognizing their song. A blond-haired man smacked his hands against a goatskin drum. He turned then, so I could see his face as he smiled at the man beside him who was carefully playing the mandolin.

“Finlay,” I gasped out before I could stop myself. I was seconds away from running toward him, my body so relieved to see my friend, my eyes were already blurring with tears. And it wasn’t just him. Thomas was there, too, holding up his mandolin. By the Gods, they were safe! They were okay.

The Hermit coughed loudly. Very loudly. And my wrist began to burn.

“Uh,” Lord Dovan stopped. Everyone stopped and stared at me. “My apologies,” he said uncomfortably. “Was there something you said, Princess?”

Fuck.

I stepped back, and shook my head, trying to look stupid and confused. Olivay’s parents frowned. There was embarrassment in the king’s expression.

“Darling,” Queen Noemay said, “Do you know these musicians? Have you seen them performing in the castle?”

“No, not at all.” I scrunched up my nose in confusion the same way I’d seen Olivay do it when she first tried to understand what was happening. “I heard talk by some of the nobles of a local drummer who is most impressive. Apparently, he’s been drawing many fans across the kingdom to his performances. And I—uh, well, is that him?”

The Hermit shot dagger eyes at me, and moved in, whispering in my ear, “I knew you should have been blindfolded completely.”

Lord Dovan frowned. “Yes, Your Highness. You are more perceptive than I knew. Master Finlay is our drummer, newly appointed to serve within the castle.”

“Oh,” I said. “Wonderful.”

The Hermit said “Oh,” under his breath, his face a mockery of my confused expression.

Lord Dovan nodded knowingly. “I did not realize the full extent to which his reputation preceded him.”

The song swelled and the musicians parted, revealing several women dancing twirling in circles. Dancers from the tavern. And in the center was a dancer I thought I recognized. Cecelia. A turn of her head, her hair whipping over her shoulder, revealed the scar on her face—the one from Jaron.

My throat tightened, as I quickly moved toward the dais.

And an uncomfortable cough from Lord Dovan, followed by a pointed one from the Hermit told me I’d been lingering far too long.

“I’d like to sit now,” I said, peering through the lace.

“Of course.” Lord Dovan gestured to the stairs. “Shall we?”

A moment later I was seated in the center of House Kanos’s pavilion.

The Hermit took the seat beside me. “Maybe it’s time to put your full blindfold on, Princess Olivay,” he said under his breath. “And keep it on.”

I didn’t speak, just stared ahead at the armored knights gathering in the jousting field. Most didn’t have their helmets on yet. They were sparring with practice swords and javelins. Tightening their armor, or drinking. And beneath the darkening red hues of the setting sun, everyone’s hair began to take on a familiar golden hue.

One man in particular stood out to me. He had golden curls, and a familiar curl pattern. A scar that ran through his bottom lip to his chin. Green eyes I could see from a distance even in the dimming light. Green eyes that I knew were cold and cruel. My stomach turned as I made eye contact with Jaron for the first time in two years. His gaze swept over me, over Princess Olivay’s body, blank and devoid of emotion.

I felt hollow inside, completely empty, until his eyes lowered, revealing something lascivious in them that made me sick.

The music’s tempo increased, and my attention returned to Finlay, Thomas, and the dancers, including Cecelia.

By the Gods. Had Jaron seen her? Had she seen him?

Vomiting was starting to feel like a real possibility. And more and more of the nobles, of the knights, and the people gathered to watch the event, began to turn their eyes onto me.

“I think I am ready for my blindfold,” I announced. And for once, I was happy to be relieved of my vision. To take a deep breath and forget the horrific place I’d ended up in. The horrific things I’d done to get here. And the even more horrific things I was about to do.

Marry Jaron. Bear his child.

The song came to an end as a second lace ribbon was folded over my eyes and tied behind my head. The next song started up just before the crowd applauded and trumpets blared. The herald cleared his throat and announced King Tirian along with his full title, and all four of his Godsdamned names.