Page 87 of The Faceless Queen

“Too much more of this and there’ll be nothing left to witness on the wedding night.”

“Enough,” I hissed. “I get it.”

His nostrils flared, and my scar burned. “Ensure you do.”

“Bastard,” I cursed under my breath. We rounded a table and were stopped by several nobles, congratulating me and offering praise for my beauty.

It took nearly a quarter of an hour to even get within earshot of Brennan.

“Off to find Finlay,” Rowan said.

“Ask him again,” Brennan said, frowning.

“I will. I promise.” Rowan slapped Brennan on the back and grinned before sneaking out of the tent, his red hair vanishing into the night.

What could Rowan ask Finlay that would concern Brennan? Was he asking if he knew where I was? If he’d seen me?

But before I could think more on it, Kienan saw me and nodded at Brennan, heading over to me.

A soldier I hadn’t seen before with a blond, closely shaved beard snuck in through the tent flaps. Brennan’s eyes widened as he signaled the soldier to come see him.

“Cousin,” Kienan said, and wrapped me in his arms.

“Cousin,” I replied. “I hope you’re not exhausting my betrothed with too much drink.”

He pulled back. “Are you insinuating I drink too much?”

Kienan was always at the bar when he came to the tavern. I took a guess and shrugged. “No. I would never.”

“You would never?” He raised a dark eyebrow. “It’s all you seem to do.”

I eyed the Hermit. Well, that information wasn’t in my fucking notes.

But Kienan laughed. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Princess Olivay.” He winked. “But I like the effort.” He glanced back at Brennan, then to me. “Off to kiss your betrothed again?”

“No,” I said. “Just say goodnight.”

He nodded. “Give him a minute.”

I narrowed my eyes. Brennan had pulled a piece of parchment from within his armor and was perusing it with the blond-bearded soldier.

“Why?” I asked.

Kienan shrugged. “Just trust me. Wait.” There was a warning in his voice.

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I needed to see that paper.

And then, my wish was granted. Brennan noticed me, and a sensation of guilt and betrayal—one directed right at me, at Olivay—was overpowering him.

I connected to his mind, and I could see what he held clearly. It was the sketch of a woman, drawn out in exquisite detail. She had long curly hair, wore a bra made of coins, and flowing skirts with more coins at her waist.

I nearly stumbled back, my body growing numb with shock, my heart beating too fast.

It was an exact rendering of me—of Samara. Every last detail, from the way I’d shaped my eyes, to the size of my lips, and the rise of my cheekbones, was drawn so perfectly it was almost like looking in the mirror the last two years.

And then I knew what Brennan had wanted Rowan to ask Finlay. What mission he’d sent him on, and why all of my old friends had been so easily welcomed to the castle. Brennan was searching for me. For the Azete that his father believed had caused the chimera attack. The man I was betrothed to, who had kissed me so sweetly and passionately, was already hunting me.

There was a breakfast scheduled with House Kanos the following morning. But I feigned a headache—after all, there had simply been too much excitement the night before. And everyone knew Olivay was delicate, and not one for games or late nights. I was simply fulfilling her role.