“A little,” I admit.
The bandit stands, slowly closing the distance between us before he pulls me to my feet. “Very well, I do think you’re pretty. In fact, Alice, you are the most beautiful nuisance I’ve ever met.”
I laugh, oddly warmed by the words.
“I need to go,” he says, his tone turning solemn. “I’ve already stayed too long.”
“When will I see you again?”
I refuse to believe this will be the last time.
“I can’t keep visiting you. You know that, don’t you?”
Slowly, I nod.
“Eventually, no matter how careful we are, we will be caught.”
“What would happen to you?” I ask. “What are your crimes?”
“I patrol the main thoroughfare in the evenings, looking for human stragglers who are not where they belong.”
“Like me,” I say softly, suddenly not feeling quite so special.
“Like you,” he agrees. “Though you are the first human I’ve met who was determined to travel deeper into Faerie after dark. The rest are happy to let me escort them to the bridge.”
“You think I’m foolish?”
He laughs under his breath. “I know you’re foolish.”
“Wait a moment.” I study the edge of his soft black mask, wishing I were brave enough to pull it from his face. “Surely escorting people to the bridge isn’t a crime?”
“The Fae don’t like it when I steal their playthings—the queen is especially irritated that I dare to meddle in the affairs of her subjects.”
“The queen?” I repeat, trying to remember all I’ve heard about her.
She’s said to be stunningly beautiful, with a voice like the tinkling of silver bells. But her affection is toxic, and she never keeps a husband for more than a year. She’s like a perpetual widow spider, remarrying as soon as each mourning period is over.
How much is rumor, I don’t know.
“Yes, Queen Marison.” He pauses for emphasis. “Lord Ambrose’s mother.”
The revelation is startling, and I stare at the bandit for several seconds before I can respond. “But that would make Lord Ambrose…”
“Brahm Ambrose Severin, Prince of West Faerie, eldest son of Her Majesty and her first husband, Lord Kallin Ambrose.”
“What’s he doing in Rose Briar Woods?” I ask, aghast.
“Some say he grew tired of court politics and retired to the peace of the forest. Others claim he and his dear mother had a falling out, and she banished him to the borderland.”
“What do you think happened?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. The only thing I need to know is that I am at odds with the marquis. It’s his duty to punish the humans when they overstep their boundaries, and it’s mine to keep them safe from the Fae’s manipulations. You understand why our relationship cannot be an amicable one?”
“Where did his title come from?”
“It was his father’s.”
“Wait,” I say. “If Lord Ambrose is the eldest son, does that mean he will be king?”