She shakes her head. “Look at the mess I made. I always spread out so much while I’m working.”
I catch her waist—something I’ve never had the nerve to do without the mask.
Alice’s eyes widen, and she goes still.
“My what?” I repeat quietly.
Her eyes drop to my lips, answering my question.
My pulse quickens, and time seems to still. I find myself leaning down, tempted. So tempted…
“Brahm!” Regina cries urgently, and the sitting room door flies open with her entrance. Fear is etched into her face, and it grows when Alice and I fly apart.
“What is it?” I demand, knowing my cousin is not easily ruffled.
“Your mother,” she breathes before she turns to Alice, looking as if trying to find a place to hide her.
Cold panic rises in my chest. “What about her?”
“She’s here.”
I stare at Regina for a full second, processing her words before I leap into action. “Hide Alice in my room. Is Sabine here as well?”
“She is,” Regina says. “And Drake.”
“Go to Alice’s room and remove all of her belongings—Sabine will notice if anything is amiss, so be thorough.”
“But your mother knows I’m staying here,” Alice says, her eyes a little too wide. “Ian’s surely told her.”
“She doesn’t need to know you’re staying outside the servants’ quarters.”
Alice nervously fists her hands at her sides before she nods.
“Are they in the front sitting room?” I ask Regina.
“They are. I said you’d join them for tea.”
“That’s fine. Go now—take the back stairwell.”
I leave, striding through the halls, ignoring the way my heart beats like a violent drum in my chest.
When I walk into the room, I find things to be as they always are. Sabine and Mother quietly bicker, and Drake stands near the window and stares at the courtyard beyond. Ian hovers behind my mother, resting his hand on the back of her chair. Perhaps he is vying for the honor of being her sixth husband. I, for one, would heartily support their marriage. It would be a tidy way to be rid of him.
A radiant smile spreads across Sabine’s face when she spots me. “Brahm!”
Drake looks over, saying nothing.
I offer my sister a small smile, and then I turn my eyes on Mother. “What are you doing here?”
The queen of West Faerie arches a dark eyebrow. “Do I need an invitation to visit my son? Must I send a messenger ahead to ask permission to call on him?”
“I hope the visit is a brief one considering you haven’t given my staff a chance to prepare rooms for you.”
“We’ll stay where we always do,” Mother says. “I know how rarely you have guests, so what could the problem be?”
I stare at her, my magic revolting every time I try to come up with a retort that’s laced with even the faintest lie.
“Good,” she says triumphantly, her bright green eyes flashing. “I’m glad that’s settled.”