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Grudging respect for the man had Fadon narrowing his eyes. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Demos was a good man, honorable and intelligent, with the self-discipline of an Ongahri warrior. It was said that like recognized like. Fadon could agree with that. But the liking stopped there. He still blamed the Owl Servant for all that had gone wrong.
“Captain, have you lost something?”
Fadon turned and saw Sierra and his brother beside him. The princess was looking at him curiously, and Fadon realized he’d been stupidly staring off into the horizon, standing on the cobblestones, in the middle of the damn courtyard. He shook himself.
“No. Just remembered something. How was the ride, my lady?” He tried to smile, be pleasant, but he eyed his brother, whose face was pale as snow, staring at something behind Fadon.
The sound of the gate opened, and Fadon turned in that direction.
On a black horse sat a rider in fancy attire, someone Fadon didn’t recognize. Atop the stranger’s shoulder perched a crow, its head cocked. Fadon looked once more at his brother, whose paleness took on a green tinge, as if he were about to be sick, something Fadon had seen many times when Ander pushed the limits of his strong constitution with the bottle.
“Who is that person, Ander?” Fadon asked.
When he didn’t reply, the captain walked over to the open gate and got a better look at the guest. The horse moved forward and Fadon eyed the stranger, who with great finesse, dismounted, the crow expertly staying in place atop his shoulder.
“Who in Ongar are you?” Fadon demanded.
The man, a weaker alpha by his scent, was attractive and an inch or two shorter than Fadon. His smile was all charm as he said, “You must be Captain Trajan. Well met. I am Cornelius L’pon, First Adviser to Chieftain Lucius Dega of House Dega. I rode ahead to prepare for my lord’s arrival.”
Fadon sifted through all the fruity titles and homed in on that last bit. “Your lord is here, on Great Mountain?”
“Indeed, sir.” The man looked past Fadon and glanced around, only to rest his eyes ahead, to where Sierra and Lysander still stood. “That must be the happy couple. Oh, isn’t she a looker.”
Fadon was tempted to release the growl he had growing in his chest but tamped it down. “If you’ll come with—”
Cornelius waved a hand, causing the ruffled lace at his wrist to flutter. “Just see to my horse. That will be all, Captain.” Dismissing him, the stranger took a step forward before Fadon placed a hand on the man’s arm.
The crow cawed, its head lurching forward as it puffed air into its chest. Fadon ignored the feathered pest and pointed at the guard by the gate.
“Gimar, take our guest to the library,” he said.
Cornelius frowned and shrugged off Fadon’s hold. “My apologies if my entrance isn’t in line with your customs, Captain. The library will be acceptable while I wait.”
Fadon crossed his arms over his chest. “And the bird stays here.”
Cornelius tsked but nodded. With a touch of his finger on the bird’s round head, the crow set off, flying past the gate, and glided south.
“This way, my lord,” Gimar said to the guest, motioning to the front entrance of the manse. Without looking back, the stranger followed. Fadon watched until there was no trace of him.
He noticed Lysander and Sierra were gone. He hoped his brother had taken her to her room, where guards were charged with her safety.
Speaking of, he thought, Fadon marched over to the gate house and let them know who was expected, then gave instructions to order more guards on all floors and to double the number during the times Sierra left her room. She would be protected in the dining room, the halls, and anywhere else she happened to meander into.
With that done, he made his way back to the war room. His stomach growled at the late hour, his lunch break passing with each step he took.
It was one thing after another, he thought. Would there ever be a reprieve or any normalcy that lasted more than an hour? He doubted it.
Sighing, he pushed open the doors to share this latest development with his queen.
Chapter 35
Sierra
Lysander was quiet as he walked me to my room. Where before we had been laughing and having a pleasant time together, now he was a stranger, and a distracted tension emanated from him.
We arrived at my door, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Lysander, what’s wrong?”
He gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, one that barely touched his pale cheeks. “I was up late. I think my feet’s just dragging.”
