Page 81 of Of Masks and Fury

Trew shifted near the door. His tension was a living thing, and I sensed he was calculating distances and assessing threats, that he would move on the lord if he pushed too far.

“I couldn’t presume to know his strategy,” I said.

A servant interrupted us, bringing the next course, roasted fowl with herbs and root vegetables. The aroma made it appealing, but my belly had knotted too tight to appreciate the delicate flavors.

Lord Alfred sliced into his meat. “I must express my deepest sympathies for your sister’s death. Such a tragic loss.”

I let my fork tremble in my hand before setting it down. “Thank you. Addie’s death has been difficult for us.”

“I cannot imagine.” His voice softened with what might be genuine sympathy. “And in such a horrible manner. The rebels murdered her and delivered her torn body to your court.” He shook his head. “It’s simply barbaric.”

I pressed my lips together and looked away, letting tears gather in my eyes. There was no need to pretend. The thought of Addie in pain, of what my father had done to her, brought genuine grief.

“Forgive me,” Alfred said. “I shouldn’t have been so graphic.”

“No, it’s…” I dabbed at my eyes with my napkin. “It’s hard to think of her suffering.”

“I’ve heard whispers of strange maladies affecting certain bloodlines. Hereditary conditions that manifest unexpectedly.” He’d done it so smoothly, pivoting from sympathy to his earlier probing about the same possible “taint” Lord Crestin had spoken of.

“I’m not aware of any such conditions,” I said, my voice steady.

“No?” Alfred’s eyebrows rose. “How fortunate.”

“Yes. Fortunate.”

Pherin sent me an image of Alfred’s throat between her firecat jaws. It was all I could do not to smile, though it would’ve come out feral.

Finally, the meal ended, and he stood.

I rose as well.

“Thank you for your time.” He took my hand and kissed the knuckles again. “I hope we can speak again soon. There’s so much more I’d like to discuss with you.”

Trew was right. This man was as conniving as Crestin. His earlier talk about horseflesh and bloodlines was a façade. It made me wonder more about Lord Finley who seemed more interested in studying his appearance than courting me.

Was he also hiding a part of himself behind the shell?

“I’ll consult my schedule and send word of when I’m free,” I said.

He released my hand and strode toward the door.

As he passed Trew, Lord Alfred paused. “Your bodyguard is quite devoted. One might almost think him more than a hired man.”

Trew’s expression didn’t change, but I saw his hand tighten on his sword hilt.

“I pay well for loyalty,” I said.

“As one should.” He bowed my way. “Until next time, Your Highness.”

The moment the door closed behind him, I dropped into my chair. Pherin launched from my shoulder and flew around the room before returning.

Bad man,she sent.Bite next time.

I couldn’t argue with that.

Trew quickly warded the room and came over to stand behind me, his hands gripping my shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“He knows something about the veil, about doorways between realms. He’s been studying it. He’s dangerous, Trew. More so than Crestin because he’s patient and calculating. He’s not going to attack with a blade in the moonlight. He’s going to slowly tighten a noose until I have no room to breathe.”