From Blood and Ash (Blood And Ash Series Book 1)
From Blood and Ash: Chapter 12

Early afternoon, the following day, I sat in the airy, sun-drenched atrium with Tawny and not one but two Ladies in Wait, wondering how I’d ended up in this situation.

My trips outside my chambers were always well timed, especially when I came to the atrium, so no one but me would be in the room. When I arrived some thirty minutes ago, it was empty as usual.

That had changed within minutes of sitting down and picking at the tiny sandwiches Tawny had confiscated from another room. Loren and Dafina had arrived, and while I sat as I’d been groomed to do—hands clasped lightly in my lap, ankles crossed, and feet tucked behind the ivory hem of my gown—I shouldn’t be in the room.

Not while the Ladies in Wait were present since they’d cozied up to the table Tawny and I had sat at. The situation could easily be construed as me interacting with them, which was one of the many things expressly forbidden by the Priests and Priestesses. Interaction was, in their words, too familiar.

I wasn’t interacting, though. I imagined I was the picture of well-bred serenity. Or I could easily be mistaken for one of the statues of the veiled Maidens. I may appear calm on the outside, but internally, I was nothing more than an exhausted, frazzled ball of nerves. Some of it had to do with the lack of any restful sleep the night prior—well, to be honest, for the last several days. It was also partly due to the fact that I knew I was going to be blamed for Dafina’s and Loren’s presence. I didn’t even know if I was allowed to be in the atrium. It had never been an issue before, and no one had ever spoken to me about it. However, no one other than a stray servant or guard had ever shown up in the atrium while I’d been here before. They weren’t the only reasons I was a mess of anxious, restless energy, though.

The primary cause stood catty-corner from where I sat, hand braced on the hilt of his sword, amber-colored eyes constantly alert.

Hawke.

It was strange to glance over and see him standing there. And it wasn’t just because it was usually Rylan who watched over these afternoon brunches Tawny and I sometimes took in the atrium. It was how different it was with Hawke being here. Normally, Rylan had stared out into the garden or spent the majority of the time speaking with one of the other Royal Guards who were nearby as he lingered just inside the entrance. Not Hawke. He found the one area in the room where he had a view of the entire brightly lit space and the gardens outside the atrium.

Luckily, the windows didn’t face the roses.

Unluckily, I often found myself staring at the fountain of the veiled Maiden.

In just one day, it had become almost painfully evident how lax Rylan had gotten in terms of security. Granted, there hadn’t been an attempt before, but he had softened. I hated even acknowledging that. It felt like a betrayal to do so, but that wasn’t the only thing that made this brunch so very different from the ones before.

Another thing that made it so different was the appearance of the two Ladies in Wait. I suspected that this was the first time they’d even been in the atrium since they’d arrived at Castle Teerman after their Rites.

Dafina, a second daughter of a rich merchant, fluttered a silk, lilac-hued folding fan as if she were attempting to end the life of an insect only she could see. While late-morning sun poured in through the windows, the atrium was still cool, and I doubted Dafina had grown overheated between eating cucumber sandwiches and sipping tea.

Beside her, Loren, the second daughter of a successful trader, had all but given up on sewing the tiny crystals onto her mask that was to be worn during the upcoming Rite, and had fully committed herself to watching every move the dark-haired Royal Guard made. I was confident she knew just how many breaths Hawke took in a minute.

Deep down, I knew why I hadn’t risen and left the room like I was supposed to, like I knew Tawny waited for me to do. I understood why I was so willing to risk censure for simply sitting and minding my own business.

I was enthralled by the antics of the two Ladies in Wait.

Loren had already done several things to catch Hawke’s attention. She’d dropped her pouch of crystals—which Hawke had gallantly assisted her in retrieving—while she pretended to be engrossed with a blue-winged bird hopping along the branches of a tree close to the windows. That had provoked Dafina to feign a faint, due to what, I had no idea. Somehow, the neckline of her blue gown had slipped so far, I wondered how she managed not to fall out of it.

I couldn’t fall out of my dress if it was on fire.

My gown was all flowing sleeves, tiny beads, and a bodice that nearly reached my neck. The material was far too thin and delicate for me to sheathe the dagger to my thigh. As soon as I could change into something else, the blade would be back where it belonged.

Ever the gentleman, Hawke had escorted Dafina to the chaise and had brought her a glass of mint water. Not to be outdone, Loren then swooned from a sudden, inexplicable headache that she’d quickly recovered from once Hawke had brandished a smile, the one that showed the dimple in his right cheek.

There’d been no headache, just as there’d been no faint. I’d opened up my senses out of curiosity and felt no pain or anguish from either of them other than a thread of sadness. I thought that it might be due to Malessa’s death, even though neither spoke of her.

“You know what I heard?” Dafina snapped her fan as she dragged her teeth over her lower lip, glancing toward Hawke. “Someone,”—she drew out the word and then lowered her voice—“has been a rather frequent visitor of one of those…” Her gaze flicked to me. “One of those dens in the city.”

“Dens?” Tawny asked, giving up pretending that they weren’t there. Not that I could blame her. She was friends with them, and while the Ladies in Wait were well aware that they probably shouldn’t be sitting with me, Tawny appeared just as entertained as I was by their antics.

Dafina sent her a meaningful look. “You know the kind, where men and women often go to play cards and other games.”

Tawny’s brows lifted. “You’re talking about the Red Pearl?”

“I was trying to be discreet.” Dafina sighed, her glance darting pointedly in my direction. “But, yes.”

I almost laughed at Dafina’s attempt to shield me from the knowledge of such a place. I wondered what she’d do if she knew I’d been there.

“And what have you heard he does at such a place?” Tawny nudged me with her foot under the table. “I imagine he’s there to play cards, right? Or do you…?” Pressing a hand to her chest, she slumped in her chair and sighed. A curl slipped free from the elaborate twist that was trying—and failing—to contain her hair. “Or do you think he engages in other, more illicit…games?”

Tawny knew exactly what Hawke did at the Red Pearl.

I wanted to kick her…like a Maiden, of course.

“I’m sure playing cards is all he does.” Loren arched a brow as she pressed her yellow and red fan against the deep blue of her dress. The contrast of the fan and gown was…atrocious and also interesting. My gaze dipped to her mask. Crystals of every color were already sewn into the material. I was sure it would look like a rainbow had vomited all over her face once she finished. “If that is all he does, then that would be a…disappointment.”

“I imagine he does what everyone does when they go there,” Tawny said, humor dripping like syrup from her words. “Finds someone to spend…quality time with.” Her mischievous gaze slid to mine.

I was going to replace the sugars Tawny loved to dump into her coffee with coarse salt.

She knew I wouldn’t chime in, that I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed to speak to the Ladies, and I still hadn’t spoken to Hawke or around him. And other than Hawke asking if I wished to do anything after supper last night, to which I had shaken my head no, he hadn’t spoken to me either.

Like before, I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed.

“You shouldn’t suggest such things in current company,” Dafina suggested.

Tawny choked on her tea, and behind the veil, my eyes rolled.

“I imagine if Miss Willa were alive today, she would’ve snared him in her web,” Loren said, and my interest was piqued. Was she talking about the Willa Colyns? “And then wrote about him in her diary.”

She was.

Miss Willa Colyns was a woman who’d lived in Masadonia some two hundred years ago. She’d apparently had a very…active love life. Miss Colyns had detailed her rather scandalous affairs quite explicitly in her journal, and it had been filed away in the city Atheneum as some sort of historical account. I made a mental note to ask Tawny to retrieve that journal for me.

“I heard that she only wrote about her most skilled…partners,” Dafina whispered with a giggle. “So, if he made it onto those pages, you know what that means.”

I did know what that meant.

Because of him.

My gaze drifted to where Hawke stood. The black breeches and tunic molded to his body like a second skin, and I couldn’t blame Dafina or Loren for how their gazes seemed to replace their way back to him every couple of minutes. He was tall, with lean muscle, and the sheathed sword at his waist, along with the one at his side, said he was prepared for more than just fainting ladies. The white mantle of the Royal Guard was a new addition, draped over the back of his shoulders.

But he also filled the air with a certain type of unquantifiable tension, as if the room were electrified. Anyone around him had to be aware of that.

My gaze drifted over his chest, and the memory of how hard it had felt, even without the armor, sent heat creeping into my cheeks. A newly familiar heaviness settled in my chest, making the silk of my dress feel coarse against my suddenly sensitive and flushed skin.

Maybe one of those stupid fans would be useful.

Swallowing a groan, I wanted to smack myself in the face. But since that wasn’t exactly an option, I took a sip of my tea, trying to ease the inexplicable dryness in my throat, and focused on Dafina and Loren once more. They were talking about the Rite, their excitement a heady hum. The celebration was just a week away, on the night of the Harvest Moon.

Their excitement was infectious. With it being my first Rite, I would be there, masked and not in white. Most would have no idea that I was the Maiden. Well, the two guards who were sure to be with me at all times would probably give me away to those paying attention. Still, a thrill of anticipation-laced uncertainty curled its way through me as my gaze slowly ticked its way back to Hawke.

My stomach tumbled.

If he saw me in the mask, would he know I was the one who’d been in the room with him? Would that even matter? By the time of the Rite, he would have to know I was one and the same, wouldn’t he? If he hadn’t realized it already.

He stood with feet shoulder-width apart, his gaze on our little group. The sunlight almost seemed drawn to him, caressing his cheekbones and brow like a lover. His profile was flawless, the line of his jaw as chiseled as the statues that adorned the garden and the castle foyer.

“You know that it has to mean that he’s near,” Loren was saying. “Prince Casteel.”

My head snapped in her direction in shock. I had no idea what she was talking about or how the subject had come up, but I couldn’t believe she had actually spoken his name aloud. My lips parted. No one other than the Descenters would dare utter his actual name, and I doubted that any of them would even speak it in the castle. It was treasonous to call him a prince. He was the Dark One.

Dafina was frowning. “Because of the…” She glanced at me, her brows knitted. “Because of the attack?”

It was only then that I realized they must’ve been talking about the attempted kidnapping while I’d been…

Well, while I’d been doing exactly what they had been doing earlier—staring and thinking about Hawke.

“Besides that.” Loren returned to threading a blood-red crystal to her mask. “I overheard Britta saying so this morning.”

“The maid?” Dafina huffed.

“Yes, the maid.” The dark-haired Lady in Wait lifted her chin. “They know everything.”

Dafina laughed. “Everything?”

She nodded as she lowered her voice. “People speak about anything in front of them. No matter how intimate or private. It’s almost like they are ghosts in a room. There is nothing they don’t overhear.”

Loren had a point. I’d seen it myself with the Duchess and the Duke.

“What did Britta say?” Tawny placed her cup on the table.

Loren’s dark eyes flicked to me and then moved back to Tawny. “She said that Prince Casteel had been spotted in Three Rivers. That it was he who started the fire that took Duke Everton’s life.”

“How could anyone claim that?” Tawny demanded. “No one who has ever seen the Dark One will speak of what he looks like or has lived long enough to give any description of him.”

“I don’t know about that,” argued Dafina. “I heard from Ramsey that he is bald and has pointy ears, and is pale, just like…you know what.”

I resisted the urge to snort. Atlantians looked just like us.

“Ramsey? One of His Grace’s stewards?” Tawny arched a brow. “I should’ve stated, how could anyone credible claim that?”

“Britta claims that the few who’ve seen Prince Casteel say he’s actually quite handsome,” Loren added.

“Oh, really?” mused Dafina.

Loren nodded as she knotted the crystal to her mask. “She said that was how he gained access to Goldcrest Manor.” Her voice dropped. “That Duchess Everton developed a relationship of a physical nature with him without realizing who he was, and that was how he was able to move freely through the manor.”

Britta sure talked a lot, didn’t she?

“Nearly all of what she says turns out to be true.” Loren shrugged as she worked an emerald-green crystal beside the red. “So, she could be right about Prince Casteel.”

“You should really stop saying that name,” Tawny advised. “If someone overhears you, you’ll be sent to the Temples faster than you can say ‘I knew better.’”

Loren’s laugh was light. “I’m not worried. I’m not foolish enough to say such things where I can be overheard, and I doubt anyone present will say anything.” Her gaze flicked to me, brief but knowing. She knew I couldn’t say a word because I’d have to explain how I was even a part of the conversation.

Which, for the record, I wasn’t.

I was just sitting here.

“What…what if he was actually here?” Loren gave a delicate shudder. “In the city now? What if that was how he gained access to Castle Teerman?” Her eyes lit up. “Befriended someone here or perhaps even poor Malessa.”

“You don’t sound all that concerned by the prospect.” Tawny picked up her cup. “To be blunt, you sound excited.”

“Excited? No. Intrigued? Possibly.” She lowered the mask to her lap, sighing. “Some days are just so dreadfully dull.”

The shock of her statement caused me to forget who I was and where I was. All that I managed to do was keep my voice low when I spoke. “So, a good old rebellion may liven things up for you? Dead men and women and children are a source of entertainment?”

Surprise flickered across both her and Dafina’s faces. It was probably the first time either had ever heard me speak.

Loren swallowed. “I suppose I…I might’ve misspoken, Maiden. I apologize.”

I said nothing.

“Please ignore Loren,” pleaded Dafina. “Sometimes, she speaks without any thought and means nothing by it.”

Loren nodded emphatically, but I didn’t doubt that she’d meant exactly what she said. A rebellion would break up the monotony of her day, and she hadn’t thought of the lives affected or lost because she simply hadn’t cared to.

It happened then, once more without any warning, causing my body to jerk forward and my spine to stiffen. My gift reached out on its own, and before I even realized it was happening, that invisible link formed between Loren and me. A sensation came through the connection, a mixture that reminded me of fresh air on a warm day and then something acrid like bitter melon. I focused on the sensations as my heart thumped against my ribs. They felt like…excitement and fear as Loren stared at me as if she wished to say something additional.

But that couldn’t be what I was picking up on from Loren. It didn’t make any sense. Those emotions had to be coming from me, and somehow, influencing my gift.

Dafina grabbed her friend’s arm. “Come, we should be on our way.”

Not given much choice, Loren was hauled out of her seat and quickly escorted out of the room with Dafina whispering in her ear.

“I think you scared them,” Tawny said.

Lifting a trembling hand, I took a quick sip of the sweet lemon drink. I had no idea what had just happened.

“Poppy.” Tawny touched my arm lightly. “Are you okay?”

I nodded as I carefully placed the cup down. “Yes, I’m just…” How could I explain it? Tawny didn’t know about the gift, but even if she did, I wasn’t sure I could have put it into words, or be sure that anything had actually happened.

I looked over at her and opened my senses. Like at first with Dafina and Loren, all I felt was a twinge of sorrow. No deep pain or anything I shouldn’t be feeling.

My heart slowed, and my body relaxed. I sat back, wondering if it was just stress causing my gift to behave so oddly.

Tawny stared at me, concern creeping into her expression.

“I’m okay,” I told her, still keeping my voice low. “I just can’t believe what Loren said.”

“Neither can I, but she’s always been…amused by the most morbid things. Like Dafina said, she means nothing by it.”

I nodded, thinking that whether or not she meant anything by it didn’t exactly matter. I took another sip of the drink, relieved to replace that my hand wasn’t trembling. Feeling measurably more normal, I chalked up the weirdness to stress and lack of sleep. My thoughts returned to the Dark One. He could be behind the attacks and might very well be after me, but none of that meant he was actually within the city. However, if he were…

Unease trickled through me as I thought about Goldcrest Manor. It wasn’t impossible for something like that to happen here, especially considering an Atlantian and a Descenter had already infiltrated the castle grounds.

“What are you going to do?” Tawny whispered.

“About the Dark One possibly being in the city?” I replied, confused.

“What? No.” She squeezed my arm. “About him.”

“Him?” I glanced at Hawke.

“Yes. Him.” Sighing, she let go of my arm. “Unless there’s another guy you’ve made out with while your identity was concealed.”

“Yes. There are many. They have an actual club,” I replied dryly, and she rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing for me to do.”

“Have you even spoken to him?” She tapped her chin, glancing at him.

“No.”

She tilted her head. “You do realize you will have to actually speak in front of him at some point.”

“I’m speaking right now,” I pointed out, even though I knew that wasn’t what she’d meant.

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re whispering, Poppy. I can barely hear you.”

“You can hear me just fine,” I told her.

She looked as if she wanted to kick me under the table again. “I have no idea how you haven’t confronted him yet. I understand the risks involved, but I would have to know if he recognized me. And if he did, why hasn’t he said anything?”

“It’s not like I don’t want to know.” I glanced at Hawke. “But there’s…”

I stiffened as Hawke’s gaze connected with mine and held. He was looking straight at me, and even though I knew he couldn’t see my eyes, it still felt like he could. There was no way he could hear Tawny and me, not from where he stood and with as quietly as I was speaking, but his stare was piercing as if he could see not only through me, but into me.

I tried to brush off the sensation, but the longer he held my gaze, the more the feeling increased. It had to be his eyes and their color. Such a strange, stunning golden hue. One could imagine all sorts of things while staring into those eyes.

He broke eye contact, pivoting toward the entryway. My breath left me in a ragged exhale, my heart hammering as if I were running across the Rise once more.

“That was…intense,” Tawny murmured.

I blinked, giving a shake of my head as I turned to her. “What?”

“That.” Her brows were lifted. “You and Hawke staring one another down. And no, I can’t see your eyes, but I knew you two were engaged in a rather heated one on one there.”

I could feel warmth creep into my cheeks. “He’s just doing his job, and I…I just lost track of what I was saying.”

Tawny lifted her brow. “Is that so?”

“Of course.” I smoothed my hands over the lap of my dress.

“So, he was just making sure you’re still alive and—”

“Breathing?” Hawke suggested, startling both of us. He stood a mere foot from where we sat, having moved with the stealth of a trained guard and the quiet of a ghost. “Since I am responsible for keeping her alive, making sure she’s breathing would be a priority.”

My shoulders stiffened. How much had he overheard?

Tawny made a poor attempt to smother her giggle with a napkin. “I’m relieved to hear that.”

“If not, I’d be remiss in my duty, would I not?”

“Ah, yes, your duty.” She lowered her napkin. “Between protecting Poppy with your life and limb and gathering spilled crystals, you’re very busy.”

“Don’t forget assisting weak Ladies in Wait to the nearest chair before they faint,” he suggested. Those strange, mesmerizing eyes glinted with a hint of mischief, and I was…as transfixed with him as I’d been with the Ladies in Wait. This was the Hawke I’d met in the Red Pearl. A well of pain hidden behind a teasing and charming personality. “I am a man of many talents.”

“I’m sure you are,” Tawny replied with a grin while I fought the urge to reach out with my senses.

His gaze flicked to her, and the dimple in his right cheek appeared. “Your faith in my skills warms my heart,” he said, glancing at me. “Poppy?”

My eyes widened behind the veil as I clamped my mouth shut.

Tawny sighed. “It’s her nickname. Only her friends call her that. And her brother.”

“Ah, the one who lives in the capital?” he questioned, still looking at me.

I nodded.

“Poppy,” he repeated in a way that made it sound as if my name was wrapped in chocolate and would roll off his tongue. “I like it.”

I gave him a tight smile to match how the muscles in my lower stomach suddenly felt.

“Is there a threat of stray crystals we need to be aware of, or is there something you need, Hawke?” Tawny asked.

“There are many things I’m in need of,” he replied as his gaze slid back to me. Tawny tipped forward as if she couldn’t wait to hear what those things were. “But we’ll need to discuss that later. You’ve been summoned by the Duke, Penellaphe. I’m to escort you to him at once.”

Tawny grew so very still I wasn’t sure if she took another breath. Ice drenched my insides. Summoned by the Duke so quickly after yesterday? I knew it wasn’t for idle conversation. Did Lord Mazeen make good on his threat and go to the Duke? Or was it because of how I’d stared back at the Duke and smiled when I was unveiled? Had he found out that I had stabbed the man who attempted to kidnap me? While most would celebrate that I’d been able to thwart the abduction, Duke Teerman would focus solely on the fact that I’d been carrying a dagger. Could someone have seen me in here and already reported back to him? Had he found out about the Red Pearl? My stomach dropped as I stared up at Hawke. Had he said something?

Gods, the options were truly limitless, and none of them were good.

Stomach churning as if I’d swallowed spoiled milk, I managed to plaster a smile on my face as I rose from the chair.

“I’ll await you in your chambers,” Tawny said, and I nodded.

Hawke waited until I was past him before falling in step slightly behind me, a position that allowed him to react to threats from the front and back. I led us out into the hall, where shimmering white and gold tapestries hung from the walls, and servants in maroon gowns and tunics scurried, carrying out various tasks that kept the large household running.

He didn’t lead me toward the banquet hall. He aimed for the staircase, and my stomach sank even further.

We crossed the foyer and had neared the foot of the wide stairs before he asked, “Are you all right?”

I nodded.

“Both you and your maid seemed disturbed by the summons.”

“Tawny is not a maid,” I blurted out and then immediately cursed up a storm in my mind. It was silly to have tried not to speak, but it would’ve been better for it to have occurred when we weren’t in the foyer, surrounded by any number of people.

And I would’ve liked to have lasted at least an entire day.

I braced myself as I snuck a peek at him.

He stared, expression utterly unreadable. If he recognized my voice, he showed no sign whatsoever.

That strange mixture of disappointment and relief hit me once more as I stared straight ahead. Did he seriously not know it had been me in that room? Then again, should I be surprised? He’d believed that I’d been Britta at first and had no problem continuing on when he realized I wasn’t her. Who knew how many random women he…

“Is she not?” he queried. “She may be a Lady in Wait, but I was advised that she was duty-bound to be your ladies’ maid. Your companion.”

“She is, but she’s not…” I glanced over at him as the stone staircase curved. One hand rested on the hilt of the sword at his waist. “She’s…” She was duty-bound to be my companion. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing is wrong.”

He looked over at me then—well, he looked down at me, even though I was a step higher than he was. He was still taller, which seemed unfair. One dark brow rose, his gaze questioning.

“What?” I asked, heart seizing as I lifted my foot but not high enough. I tripped. Hawke reacted fast, curving his hand above my elbow, steadying me. Embarrassment flooded my system as I muttered, “Thank you.”

“No insincere thanks are required or needed. It is my duty to keep you safe.” He paused. “Even from treacherous staircases.”

I took a deep, even breath. “My gratitude was not insincere.”

“My apologies then.”

I didn’t have to look at him to know he was grinning, and I’d bet that stupid dimple was gracing the world with its presence. He fell quiet then, and we reached the third-floor landing in silence. One hall led to the old wing—to my chambers and many of the household staff. To the left was the newer wing. Stomach full of tiny lead balls, I turned left. My mind was now so fixated on what awaited me that I wasn’t all that focused on Hawke’s apparent lack of recognition or what it meant if he did realize it was me and just wasn’t saying anything.

Hawke reached the wide, wooden doors at the end of the hall, his arm brushing my shoulder as he opened one side. He waited until I had entered the narrow spiral staircase. Sunlight poured in through the numerous oval-shaped windows. “Watch your step. You trip and fall here, you’re likely to take me out on your way down.”

I huffed. “I won’t trip.”

“But you just did.”

“That was a rarity.”

“Well, then, I feel honored that I bore witness to it.”

I was glad he couldn’t see my face then, and not out of fear of recognition, but because I was sure my eyes were so wide they took up my entire upper face. He was speaking to me in a way no other guard did—besides Vikter. Not even Rylan had been so…familiar. It was as if we had known each other for years instead of hours…or days. Whatever. The comfortable way he was talking to me was disconcerting.

He eased past me, reaching the entryway to the fourth floor. “I’ve seen you before, you know.”

My breath hitched, and only by the grace of the gods did I not trip again.

“I’ve seen you on the lower balconies.” Holding open the door, he gestured for me to enter. “Watching me train.”

Heat blasted my cheeks. That had not been what I’d expected him to say. “I wasn’t watching you. I was—”

“Taking in the fresh air? Waiting for your lady’s maid, who is not a maid?” Hawke caught my arm as I walked past him, stopping me. He lowered his head until his lips were mere inches from my veil-covered ear and whispered, “Perhaps I was mistaken, and it wasn’t you.”

Surrounded by the earthy, woodsy scent of him, my breath caught. We were nowhere near as close as we were the night of the Red Pearl, but if I tilted my head to the left just a few inches, his mouth would touch mine. The curling motion inside me returned, settling even lower in my stomach this time. “You are mistaken.”

He let go of my arm, and when I looked up, I saw that the corner of his lips was tipped up. My heart was doing funny, strange things in my chest as I stepped into the airy hall, my pulse thrumming.

Two Royal Guards were stationed outside the private quarters of the Duke and Duchess. There were several rooms on this floor used for greeting various members of the house and Court. Both had their own spaces and suites that connected to bedchambers, but based on where the Royal Guards stood, I knew the Duke was in the main suite.

Unease returned, slithering through my veins. For a brief moment, I’d forgotten about why I could’ve been summoned.

“Penellaphe?” Hawke said from behind me.

Only then did I realize two things. One, I’d come to a complete standstill in the hall, and I was sure that seemed odd to him. And secondly, he had called me by my name twice now instead of Maiden. He wasn’t Vikter. He wasn’t Tawny. Both of whom only called me by my name when we were alone.

I knew I should correct his use of my given name, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to, and that frightened me as much as what awaited me in the Duke’s office.

Taking a deep breath, I clasped my hands together as I straightened my shoulders and started forward.

The Royal Guards avoided eye contact as they bowed upon our approach. The dark-skinned one stepped aside, his hand on the door. He started to open it.

For some reason, I looked back at Hawke. Why, I had no idea. “I’ll wait for you here,” he assured.

I nodded and then faced forward again, forcing one foot in front of the other, telling myself that I was getting worked up over nothing.

Stepping into the suite, the first thing I noticed was that the curtains had been drawn. The soft glow of several oil lamps seemed to be absorbed by the dark wood paneling and the furniture fashioned from mahogany and crimson-hued velvet. My gaze fell to the large desk and then the credenza behind it, where several crystal bottles of various sizes were full of amber liquor.

Then I saw him.

The Duke sat on the settee, one booted foot resting on the table before him, and a glass of liquor in his hand. Chills swept through me as he looked over at me with eyes so dark, the pupil was almost indistinguishable.

It made me think that when next I saw Ian, his eyes would no longer be green like mine. They’d be like the Duke’s. Pitch-black. Bottomless. But would they be as chilling?

I suddenly realized that the Duke wasn’t alone.

Across from him was Lord Mazeen, seated in an arrogant sprawl. He held no drink in his hands, but his fingers tapped idly on his bent knee. There was a smirk on his well-formed lips, and every instinct in me screamed that I needed to run because there was no fighting what was coming.

The door clicked shut behind me, causing me to jump a little. I hated the response, hoping that the Duke hadn’t seen it, and knowing that he had when I saw him smile.

Teerman rose from the settee in one fluid, boneless movement. “Penellaphe, I am so incredibly disappointed in you.”