What is Hidden

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Authors: Lauren Skidmore

BOOK: What is Hidden
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Praise for

WHAT IS HIDDEN


What Is Hidden
is a fresh, unique tale full of romance, intrigue, excitement, and a woman torn from the life she’s always known. Skidmore paints exquisitely detailed masks and a vivid world that’s nothing like you’ve imagined. She’s created a world I’d like to see, and characters I’d like to know in this tale reminiscent of Cinderella.”

—CINDY C BENNETT
author of
Rapunzel Untangled

“Intrigue, vengeance, love—all hidden beneath the shadows of the masks Evie is forced to wear.
What Is Hidden
will get your heart pumping and your mind racing.”

—STEVE WESTOVER
author of
A Nothing Named Silas

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For anyone who has worn a mask

=
ONE
+

“I
can feel you staring at me,”
I said, not bothering to look up from my work. I was putting the finishing flourishes on a particularly complex design and didn’t want to lose my place. I’d been up since dawn working on this mask. The early morning sun provided the perfect lighting through my window, and hearing the soft cadence of the canal waters greeting its walls and the distant calls of the seagulls relaxed me. The mask—a doctor’s—was extremely intricate, and it wasn’t often that my father trusted me to do this kind of work, even if I
was
out of my apprenticeship. My father might be a well-respected artisan, but I still needed to prove myself. Our family didn’t have generations behind its name to rely on as other mask makers did.

I needed all the calm the early morning could afford to give me.

“You can’t feel a stare, Evie,” my intruder said. Aiden.

“I can feel yours,” I retorted.

My friend laughed, his voice filling the room. I sighed and put down the paintbrush, casting a forlorn look at
the mask in front of me. I wasn’t going to get any more work done now. Although, as far as intruders went, they couldn’t get much better than Aiden. I felt like I’d known him forever, though it had been only a few years. After one fateful day by the canals when I’d saved him from being hopelessly lost, he wormed his way into becoming my best friend without me realizing it until it was too late. The scoundrel.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked, turning to him.

“It’s the first of the month,” he said.

“Why, yes it is. Congratulations,” I teased. “I’m glad to know some of you nobles are able to keep track of what day it is.”

“You said you would take me to the market,” he pleaded, ignoring my gibe and shifting from foot to foot like an excited puppy.

“What are you, twelve? You’ve been to the market before.”

“Yes, but I’ve been in so many never-ending lectures and meetings lately I feel like I’m going to die of boredom.”

“Are these educational lectures or have you been caught sneaking out at night again?”

His face was the picture of indignant innocence for only a few seconds before it split into a wide grin. “I might have stolen a few pies from the kitchen.”

“A few?”

“Fine. A half dozen and then eaten myself sick. That doesn’t really matter.” He waited patiently for me to finish laughing before continuing. “They were really good pies.”

“I should hope so.” I pushed away from my desk to hang up the mask to dry and clean my brushes. “Let me finish here and then we can go.”

A short while later, Aiden led the way to the part of town where the one-manned stall boats of the markets lined the canal waters on one side and the more permanent shops on the other, each one fighting to be more brightly colored than the last. Space was limited, and the narrow storefronts did what they could to get noticed. My favorite sweets shop had a giant dog statue I’d loved to climb on when I was a child, and it smelled like sugar and fried dough.

My own Akita dog, Hachi, trotted alongside us, tail wagging, seemingly glad we weren’t taking a water taxi. The little beast always cowered under my skirts anytime we set foot on a boat of any size. It was a bit inconvenient since Venesia was known for two things: the masks we were never seen without and its canals. The canals criss-crossed in a grid pattern across the city, and boats were the primary mode of transportation.

“Come on, Evie. Let’s cut through the Naked Square.” He tugged my arm, and I made a disgusted face at his nickname for the place where the criminals were punished. “What?” he asked. “That’s what it is. Why call it anything else?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t like that name.” It was a fitting enough name, true, but something about it always rubbed me the wrong way.

The official name was the Square of the Accused and the Punished, but most people just called it the Square or, like Aiden, the Naked Square. Its nickname came from the most common form of punishment: a criminal would have his mask and clothes stripped from him and be chained to a wall or placed in the stocks in the middle of the square. Depending on the severity of the crime, he would also be Marked. For petty crimes, the scar from the hot iron brand
could be easily covered with a mask or piece of clothing, but the especially serious cases were more painful in the branding method and more difficult to keep concealed by the masks we wear.

“So are we going or not?” Aiden prompted when he saw I wasn’t following him.

“You know I don’t like going that way.”

“I heard the prince is supposed to make an appearance,” he said slyly, as if that would tempt me at all.

“So? He’ll be covered from head to foot, as always.”

Aiden’s shoulders slumped. “Normally I’d be happy that you weren’t like the girls that fawn over him, but of course the one time it’d be easier for me if you were average, you have to be as contrary and stubborn as always.”

I flashed him a wide grin. “I do what I can. Why do you want to go so badly, anyway?”

He groaned. “I just want to make sure no one I know is on the block.”

“Really? Is that a common concern of yours?” I asked, a little alarmed.

“No, but you never know who you’ll find. Maybe that idiot who keeps shortchanging my man on boots finally got caught.”

I sighed. “Fine. Have it your way. Just don’t let any recent release grab me or anything, okay?”

He snaked an arm around my waist, pulled me obnoxiously close, squared his shoulders, and winked at me. “Nobody would dare.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes as I pushed him a respectable distance away. “Get off me. Everyone knows your bark is worse than your bite. I’d be better off with just Hachi.”

The dog whined and looked up at me with big brown eyes. I dropped a kiss to his head and scratched behind his ears. “You’re a big, strong dog. You could protect me, couldn’t you?”

He wagged his plush tail and barked, appeased. I looked back at Aiden, my chin raised expectantly. He simply rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he said, sighing. “I can see when my services aren’t wanted.”

As we crossed a canal on the bright red bridge leading to the Square, I could hear shouts and cheers amid the sounds of trumpets and the beat of taiko drums. The prince was about to arrive.

We quickly scrambled closer to get a look; for all I protested and teased Aiden, I did want to catch a glimpse. I stood on my tiptoes when the crowd prevented us from moving any further, and I used Aiden’s shoulder to keep my balance. I knew exactly when he spotted the prince, because I felt his muscles tense.

“There he is,” he said through clenched teeth, pointing.

I wondered at his sudden change of attitude but was sidetracked by the display before us.

The prince was covered in white from head to toe. White was the symbol of royalty—no one else could afford to bleach the masks so pale or keep their clothes so spotless. His face was completely obscured by the snow-white mask and a piece of fabric was draped over the back of his head. The rest of his clothes were extravagant and covered every inch of his skin—it was forbidden for anyone outside of the royal family to see him. His name (as well as the names of the other members of the royal family) was kept
secret. They were simply known as the king, queen, prince, or princess. If their names were ever revealed, I wasn’t privy to such an occasion.

To even make a public appearance like this was unusual.

His mask, though, was beautiful. I couldn’t call myself an artisan if I didn’t notice the workmanship. It was a wonderfully delicate porcelain, with the purest white swan feathers at each eye, and lined with diamonds and pearls. I would give my right hand to watch something like that be created.

The royal family’s masks were made in the palace by the finest artisans and with the finest materials. Even though I was a mask maker myself, it was extremely unlikely that I’d ever witness such a process.

I couldn’t tell much about the prince himself. He carried himself aggressively and was tall and wiry, but I couldn’t even tell the color of his eyes or hair because they were both covered. I wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a crowd if he wore normal clothing.

“You think he ever dresses like a regular person and just walks around town?” I asked, my mind still admiring the workmanship of the mask.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Aiden scoffed. “As if he’d have the time or the inclination. Would you ever want to leave that palace?” Venesia wasn’t a poor nation by any means, but nothing of the city matched the luxury of the palace.

“I guess not,” I murmured, trying to get a better look. I wished I had a chance to wear masks like that. My own mask was predominately green, to match my trade and rank as an artisan, and made of simple mâché. Its intricate designs marketed my skills and flattered the oval shape of
my face. It covered a modest amount, from my hairline to below my cheekbones.

Suddenly the crowd began shushing each other, and people shifted in front of me until I could see the prince as he raised his hands for silence. He didn’t speak, of course. The only ones to hear a member of the royal family speak were the royal family members themselves and one designated Speaker appointed from court.

The Speaker stood next to the prince. She wore a full mask as well, but her eyes were not shrouded like the prince’s. Pearls and crushed crystal formed a winding design around her dark eyes, and the sheer lavender fabric that secured her mask created a lovely contrast against her inky curls and brown skin.

As the crowd fell silent, the Speaker’s voice rang out strong and clear. This was a voice that possessed the commanding quality that demanded you drop everything and listen—and obey, if you knew what was good for you.

“As you have gathered”—she spoke without introductions, as they were completely unnecessary—“the Crown feels it must make the public aware of a precarious situation. They have chosen this location to announce it, because they feel it will travel quickest by the mouths and ears that pay attention to the execution of our laws, be it for moral reasons or other.” She gave no inflection to indicate that she meant the gossips and busybodies that had nothing better to do than hang about the Square in search of a scandal, but the whispers and giggles that coursed through the crowd made it quite clear that they caught the underlying message.

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