A Curious Mask

XIV- Just a Crack?

"This time tomorrow we will be at my parents' house," Finch announced randomly.

Ri looked over at him. They were alone again on an open road. "Okay..."

"So we'll stay the night in Belluz and then be there about midday tomorrow."

"Okay. Thanks for the update I guess."

"Well, I bring it up because I figure you don't want me asking the questions I am about to ask around them."

She stiffened, looking away from him.

"Ri, please don't make this harder than it needs to be. I simply wish to help."

"No, you simply wish to know."

He shook his head. "I may be a wister, but I am also a wanderer. The latter determines more of who I choose to be than the former, and I'm willing to bet that you would trust me right now if you couldn't read my mind."

"But I can, so I don't."

He sighed loudly and rubbed his forehead. "At least, at least, explain why you are so determined that your father hates you?"

She shook her head.

He stopped his mount, and hers followed suit without her consent. She glared at the back of its head.

"Why won't you look at me?"

"Why do you insist on prying into my life?"

"It's my job, Rianna. What if I'm right? What if the king loves you? What if he was angry with himself, not you? What if you can't do this on your own? What if you're running from the only chance at family you'll ever have? What if you're his heir? I'm simply asking you to open a tiny crack in that wall around your past. Give me a peak so I can help you decide your future, because I am the one who sets the course of it right now. If I say go to the king, to the king you shall go. If I determine you're safer pretending to be a not very convincing boy out on your own, then there I will leave you."

Her shoulders slumped as he spoke. "I've learned the hard way to trust no one, Sir Finch. Why am I to believe you or the king are any different?"

"Have I proven otherwise?"

She jerked to face him, her visage clouded with anger. "The last man to gain my trust trapped me on my bed and did horrible things to me! I knew him for years! I trusted him for years! The king blames me for killing his wife and hates my existence!" Her voice choked on a sob, "If the boy I grew up with could do such terrible things, how can I trust the king who cursed me and abandoned me or his wister knight?"

Sir Finch's gaze was cool, inquisitive, and at the back of her mind she realized this must be his real face, for his thoughts were out of their molds. The prominent topic in his mind was the identity of her master.

"When did you meet him?" Sir Finch asked.

"None of your business!"

He was unaffected, tilting his head curiously. "Why do you protect the man who hurt you? Do you not want justice? Or... do you love him?"

Their gazes were locked, so Ri couldn't look away. Her heart rate picked up, but she simply glared at the wister whose tornadoes around her master were starting to find answers.

If she lived in the capital, where did she see a wister sleeping? The wister was obsessed with this man that hurt her. Who had a wister obsessed with him? Not a Montevian. What non-Montevian had access to the king? One of his descendants. Which of his descendants grew up in the capital and had a wister obsessed with him? Prince Rey. Why are her eyes widening? Because she's reading my mind and I am right.

She watched his mask slam back on, and he looked away his face twitching.

She gasped. "H-how did you... I mean I saw it, but, how do you make those connections?"

He grunted. "I'm a wanderer. My wist is almost tailored to this, but Sir Untany helped me focus it even more. Am I correct?"

She grunted back.

"So, I am?" He grinned roguishly at her, and she was barely staying angry.

"Maybe."

"So, why are you protecting Prince Rey?"

She looked down in shame. "He is the child of his generation with power. His voice can induce a trance into the listeners, and then they will do or say whatever he wants. He would simply have to ask and I would tell him that I told someone."

"You're afraid of him." He stated, his eyes knowing.

She nodded, reaching forward to pet Sugar.

"Correct me if I'm wrong. He did it more than once; you were unwilling every time, and he let his wister do it too."

She stiffened and nodded, not looking at him. She heard a ring of metal and looked up in horror, but Finch was already off of Spice. He flipped his daggers in the air and caught them by their blades, offering her the handles. She took the offered weapons hesitantly.

"If you ever feel threatened by anyone like that again, don't be afraid to use those. I understand they may not be much against his voice, but this is the best defense I can give you besides me being there personally."

"So, if I feel threatened by you, I can use them on you."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Her brow furrowed as she nodded, looking into his eyes.

"I can't reproduce. The lust required is beyond my grasp and the questions about women aren't enough to fuel that desire." He looked up at her with sincerity in his eyes. "Does that help you feel more at ease around me?"

She searched his eyes and mind, but his eyes were a farce and his mind was locked up tight.

"How can I feel at ease around someone who hides who he really is from even himself? You force yourself to be someone you're not, and I would feel safer if I could see the real you."

His eyes widened and he backed up a step, everything in his mind suddenly speeding up, the tornadoes fighting at his tightening self-control. His gaze hardened to a glare, but at the ground, not at her.

"No," he said forcefully, "you wouldn't."

He swung himself back up on Spice stiffly and clucked, moving forward with his glare straight ahead. She hurried to follow.

"Finch-"

"Sir Finch. You're safe with the knight, and the knight controls the wister. You're not safe with the wister alone."

"Why?"

He visibly shook, his nails digging into his palms as his fists clenched around the reins. He was slightly ahead of her, and his wavy black hair fell over his downturned face, hiding both his face and thoughts from her.

"Sir Finch?" she called, worried.

He shook his head jerkily, his hair flying every which way. His voice came out hoarse, "If you want to help, don't say a word and stay out of my mind."

From his reaction, she would assume he was feeling something different, but all she could sense of his emotion was raging curiosity. She resignedly looked away and simply listened. For the rest of their ride to Belluz, he barely made a sound. His back remained straight, and his head stayed tilted down. Once they got to the small border town, he still remained closed off, his face blank and voice monotone.

He rented two rooms for the night.

Will she push this and try to figure me out? Is she no longer afraid of me?

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Aaaand the tables have been turned! Take that, Finch!

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