Page 19 of The Iron Hex

“Don’t lie to me,” he growled as he pointed at her. “What is your most distant vivid memory?”

“Three years ago, as I walked into my home in Cilirien.” It slipped out before she could stop herself.

“What about before then?” he demanded, stepping closer to her.

Eira’s stomach lurched.

“I don’t...” Eira hesitated. “I don’t remember anything from before then.”

Silence enveloped them, puffs of cold breath permeating the dimly lit alleyway as Eira waited impatiently for Hugo to speak.“What did you just realize, Hugo?” Eira asked softly, breaking the silence.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” Hugo closed the small gap between them, placing his hands on her arms with a gentleness she didn’t expect. “You’re not from Cilirien.”

“This isn’t funny,” Eira whispered, afraid of what Hugo was going to say next. “I thought you said you don’t like games.”

“I’m not joking. Not only do I not like games—I don’t play them,” he said, hands still on Eira’s arms, firm and warm. They watched each other for a moment that felt like it stretched into an eternity.

“Eira,” he whispered, tilting her chin up to look into his eyes. “I suspect someone has removed your memory with a spell.”

Her stomach lurched again as she pushed away from Hugo, and she quickly placed her hands on her knees in case her dinner came back up. Memory magic was forbidden—no one did memory magic anymore. No one hated Eira enough to cast memory magic on her illegally, right?

“That’s not possible.” Her words caught in her throat, threatening to turn into panic. “Why would you say that?”

He took a deep breath, looking away for a moment.

“Hugo,” Eira spoke again, all the moments where Hugo had insinuated that she was playing games and pretending to not know who he was in the past day falling into place. “What do you know about me?”

He exhaled loudly before looking back at Eira, his breath visible in the cold air.

“You’re the Viscountess Eira Westcotte. You were the heir to your parents’ lands and title as their only remaining child... and you disappeared three and a half years ago.”

Eira felt time slow as she processed what Hugo had just said to her.

“I said this isn’t funny,” Eira said as she stepped away fromhim, prepared to flee this alleyway. Not that she had anywhere to go... What had shedone? The Viscountess Westcotte? She didn’t even know who that was. Sure, she didn’t remember anything beyond the past three years, but that didn’t mean she was nobility. She’d just taken a fall. That was it; she just fell. A fall that left no wound and no scar. A fall that only took her memory. A fall that had left her in a town where no one knew her, but she somehow had already established her home and shop. Eira started hyperventilating, her heart racing so fast she could hear it in her ears.

“Eira, you have to breathe,” Hugo said, touching her shoulder. He rubbed circles where his hand lay with his thumb until Eira’s heart slowed down enough that the frantic thumping wasn’t the only sound she could hear.

“Eira, this is not a joke, but there is more.” He paused before continuing, giving her time to respond. She remained silent, dreading his next words. “What’s more important is that you were the crown princess’s best friend, and she’s the only living member of the De Clare dynasty left—the true heir to the throne. She’s missing, and we need to find her.”

“Ha,” Eira said dryly. “This is where you took it too far. There’s no world where I’d believe that. Even I know that the whole royal family was killed after the Iron Empire rose.”

The best friend to the heir to the throne? It was almost comically impossible. “If I’d been best friends with the former future queen, I know I’d remember that,” she said, certain and indignant. The De Clares were dead. They’d been dead for as long as Eira could remember.

“That’s precisely my point,” he said, stepping toward her, his voice hushed. “You, of all people, should remember her, and you should know that she got away that night... with you.”

“Well, I don’t!” Eira exclaimed far louder than she should have, an echo reverberating through the empty cobblestone alleyway. “You have the wrong girl, and now you’ve taken mefrom my home and my life for nothing, because you thought I was someone I’m not.”

She had let this man take her away from Cilirien under the guise of her being in danger, only for him to turn around a day later and expect her to be okay with him being too familiar with her and telling wild stories about her life that weren’t true, that couldn’t be true.

“So is this your plan?” Eira said, panic rising in her again. “You whisk women away from their homes, telling them they’re in danger, only to tell them how special they are so they... what? Fall for you? How many women have you done this to?” She angrily stepped forward, pointer finger jabbing his very firm chest. Eira wished she hadn’t noticed that part, but she had. Hugo could be a scam artist and attractive at the same time.

He laughed, and it was not one of disbelief, but a genuine laugh. “This is the most like you I’ve seen you since I walked into your damned store.”

He grabbed her hand, calloused golden fingers grazing over hers like they had in the bar just minutes ago, and a shiver rolled down her spine at his touch. “We are in danger. I have not lied to you about that,” he said. “You and the princess fled the night of the uprising. I didn’t know how you got out, and I didn’t know if you were going to come back. I half wondered if both of you were dead.”

“If this is true, which it’s not... how did you even find me?” Eira tentatively asked, pulling her fingers away, leaving them tingling from his gentle caress.

“I’m very good at finding people” was all Hugo said.