The Man Behind the Mask. Christine Rimmer
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I said, with what I considered admirable tact, “I think we’re getting into repetition mode, don’t you?”
She rolled to her side and faced me again, reaching to brush my shoulder—a tentative touch, quickly withdrawn. “Bad move on my part, huh? To make such a big deal out of this…”
I caught her hand and only let go after I’d given it a good, firm squeeze. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. You’re my best friend in the whole wide world. You cannot make a bad move when it comes to me.”
Her wide mouth quivered. “God, Dulce. I have missed you.”
“Double back at ya.”
“There’s just so much going on.…”
“Hey, I’m picking it up.”
“So much I really can’t talk about.”
“You said that before.”
“Well, I feel like you’re not hearing me.”
“I’m hearing. I just don’t like it.”
“You have to know. Under ordinary circumstances, I’d be thrilled to see you and Valbrand hook up. But things are far from ordinary here. My father has big plans for my brother. Please don’t be offended, but they don’t include—”
“Brit.”
She stifled a yawn. “Um?”
“At this point what His Majesty would think about your brother and me getting together is seriously moot.”
“I’m only warning you that the rules are different here, that a king’s son is not going to—”
“Got it.” I was yawning, too. “We should get some sleep.”
She yawned again, this time full out. “You know, you’re right.” She closed her eyes.
I swear she was deep in dreamland instantly. I could have been, too. But you ought to try sleeping with Brit. Restless is too mild a word. She tossed and turned and groaned and kicked me repeatedly—all while utterly dead to the world.
Eventually, clinging to my pillow at the far edge of the bed, I drifted off, too.
Someone was shaking me. “Go ’way…” I grumbled, batting at the hand that clutched my shoulder.
“Dulce…” Brit’s voice.
I opened one eye. “Huh?”
“Gotta go. Back soon.” She was already halfway out of the bed.
I sat up, swiping a swatch of tangled curls back from my face, blinking against the bedside light that we’d never bothered to turn off. “What time is it?” The clock beneath the lamp said 3:10. “Ugh.” I fell back to the pillows. “You’re nuts, you know that?”
“I just… I have to see Eric.” Her face was positively glowing. “What can I say? It’s love, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up and worry when you saw I was gone.…”
I grumbled something unintelligible, turned on my side and shut my eyes again. I was asleep so fast, I didn’t even hear her leave.
The hidden door through the mirror in my sister’s room began to move. I doused my palm-size flashlight and stepped back into the shadows.
Brit came through, wearing a pink robe and absurd fat pink bedroom slippers. She shut the secret door, turned and saw me there. I was all in black, including the smooth mask of perfectly tanned karavik skin that covered my face.
She gasped, then shone her light hard in my eyes. “Valbrand. What are you doing here?”
“Keeping watch.” I had my arm across my eyes, guarding my night vision. “Shine the light away.”
She did as I asked, then reached out a tentative hand to me. Trusting her as I did few others, I allowed her to brush the side of the mask, which fit my face like another skin—one both flawless and without expression.
“Is this really necessary?” She meant the mask. In her eyes there was great sadness.
I saw no reason to answer her. “What brings you into the passageway at this early hour?” I knew what, of course. “Eric?”
“I miss him. Love’s like that.”
“Ah.” They were happy, my youngest sister and my bloodbound lifelong friend. This pleased me. Behind the mask, I smiled.
She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering a little at the chill in the passageway, and sent me a look of dawning suspicion. “It’s Dulcie, right?”
I did not so much as blink. “I fail to grasp your meaning.”
“You’re here in the passageway, by the secret entrance to my room, because Dulcie’s in there.”
I hadn’t known. But my foolish heart beat faster to hear it. “Dulcie. Your friend…”
“Yeah, duh. Like you have trouble remembering who she is.”
“You are angry with me.”
Her eyes grew tender again. “No. Never. I just… I saw the way you looked at her the other night. And the way she looked at you. Valbrand, you do have to ask yourself, where can it go?”
Nowhere, I silently replied. It was a truth I fully accepted. “We shared a dance.” I sketched the most casual of shrugs. “It means nothing.” And it didn’t, not in the greater scheme of things. I had felt something powerful when I looked in Dulcie’s eyes, and experienced a thoroughly shaming physical response to her. But it was of no consequence, I kept telling myself. And I would hardly have occasion to see her again. I asked my sister gently, “You object to my dancing with your friend?”
“No. No, of course not. It’s only…she doesn’t have an inkling of what we’re up against here. I don’t want her involved. I want her to enjoy her visit to Gullandria and I want her to fly home safe and sound the day after the wedding.”
“And so she shall. As for tonight… I knew a strange foreboding. It caused a restlessness within me. I looked in on Eric. And then, unbeknownst to him, on our father. I checked on Elli and Hauk.” Elli was our sister and Hauk was Elli’s husband. “Hauk woke, of course. He saw it was I and rose to speak with me briefly, vowing that all was well with them and their unborn babe. After that, I came here to assure myself that you, like the others, were undisturbed.”
“I’m fine. Honestly.”
“Good, then.”
“Eric’s awake?”
I chuckled. “Go to him. Find out for yourself.”
She came closer, laid her hand on my arm and brushed a quick kiss