Page 79 of Of Masks and Fury

“Lord Alfred.” I walked into the room, allowing him to take my hand and press his lips to my knuckles, his touch cool and impersonal. “Your concern is appreciated, though I assure you I’m quite recovered.”

He studied my face with an intensity that made my skin prickle. “Most women would still be abed after such trauma. But then, you’ve never been like most women, have you?”

The words could be taken as a compliment or a warning.

“I’ve been fortunate to have an excellent teacher.” I gestured to the table, where servants had laid out an elaborate lunch. “Shall we?”

He held my chair, waiting until I was seated before taking his own place across from me.

Trew took up his position near the door, while the other guards waited outside, in the hall.

Servants poured wine and presented the first course; delicate pastries filled with cheese and herbs. Lord Alfred waited until they withdrew before speaking.

“I must confess, Your Highness, I’ve been deeply troubled by Lord Crestin’s attack.” He lifted his glass, studying the ruby liquid. “To think such violence could breach your castle walls. Your father must be overcome with worry.”

“He’s concerned, naturally.”

“He’s…” The lord’s gaze shot to the floor. “I don’t like to gossip, but your father appears more than a touch worried to me. There are guards everywhere. He’s keeping you under lock and key.” He glanced toward Trew standing near the door. “One might even call his concern…paranoia.”

“I’m sure he’s just being careful.” I took a careful sip of wine, buying myself time to figure out his intent. “As for last night, our guards are investigating the incident.”

“As they should.” He set down his own glass, his gaze meeting mine. “I’ve been questioned myself. Standard procedure, of course, though I can’t imagine what they hope to learn. Crestin and I were not close.”

“It must be unsettling to know someone you shared a table with harbored such zealotry.”

“An interesting characterization.”

“You used the term yourself last night.”

“So I did,” he said. “He called your bloodline tainted, I believe? Strange that he’d use that particular term.”

I kept my expression neutral. “The ravings of a madman. Hardly worth analyzing.”

“Perhaps.” He took a bite of pastry, chewing. “Though madmen often speak truths others won’t. It makes one wonder what inspired such vehement conviction in him.”

The subtle threat in his words made my pulse quicken. He was already probing, testing to see how I’d react to Crestin’s implications about my family.

“My father believes it was politically motivated,” I said. “An attempt to destabilize the court while he’s preparing his campaign against the rebels.”

“Ah yes. The rebels.” Alfred’s mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I’m sure King Cyril will be most aggressive in his pursuit of them. From…what I’ve heard, three battalions are mobilizing to advance on the southern border. Quite the show of force.”

He knew about the army, but it wasn’t a secret that my sister had supposedly been murdered by the rebels and that my father had shouted that he’d seek revenge.

“I know little of military matters,” I said. “My father doesn’t burden me with such concerns.”

“But surely you must have some awareness.” His fingers traced the rim of his wine glass. “A father’s war affects his daughter’s prospects.”

“I trust my father’s judgment in such matters.”

“As you trusted his judgment with Crestin?” The words came soft, almost sympathetic, but I could feel the edge beneath them.

I set down my fork. “Lord Crestin deceived us all.”

“Did he?” Alfred leaned back in his chair, studying me. “Or perhaps he simply revealed what he’d always been, and we failed to see it.”

“Does it truly matter which?”

He shrugged.