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“My uncle is a generous man. Too generous, in my opinion. Do not take his generosity as an invitation.”

“An invitation for what?” I questioned.

Severin looked pained as he struggled to decide how forward he was going to be with me, and in the end decided to keep his insinuation unspoken. When we reached the heavy wooden door leading outside, he stopped in the darkened alcove instead of opening it. I could tell by the look on his face that he had more to say.

He’d been the one to fetch me for a reason.

“My uncle says you have a way with Adrien.” He leaned in an inch. “If that’s true, ensure he stays at hand and doesn’t wander.”

I didn’t know much about the tall, slim vampire, but my opinion was that he didn’t like me. Not that I cared. But I wasn’t going to let him talk badly about Adrien.

“He’s a boy, not a dog,” I said. “Boys wander.”

“Heirs to duchies don’t. They watch and learn. And it is the job of the blood nanny to ensure he pays attention.” A footman appeared, carrying a small silver tray with a sealed envelope. Severin took it without looking and tucked it inside his jacket. “See that you manage it.”

I caught the color of the seal before it disappeared inside his pocket. The wax seal was purple—dark purple. I’d seen another person tuck a purple sealed envelope away, and that witch had tried to get me to join his secret society.

Severin’s attention returned to me as if nothing had happened. “Be mindful of what you say in front of Rochefort. And Lady Christine.”

I crossed my arms. “Such as?”

He gave me a stern look. “On second thought, don’t speak to any of our Rochefort guests unless asked a direct question. Better if you avoid them entirely.” His dark eyes held mine for a beat. “Understood?”

I didn’t like being ordered around by Severin any more than I liked being ordered around by the maids. I worked for the Duke, not his nephew. But after growing up in a coven full of powerful witches, I knew when to play nice and when to extend my claws. Gran had taught me that enemies were to be kept close, after all.

I offered him a sweet smile that I hoped looked more like a sneer. “Perfectly, my lord.”

Severin pushed open the door, and a breath of sea air blew in, rustling the curls around my face. “And one more thing, Miss Ravenwood. See to it Master Adrien is fed before turning in for the night.”

With a curtsey, I clutched the hem of my dress and joined the line of household employees and council members waiting along Château du Mer’s private dock. I stood between Mr. Duval and Adrien, who was holding a black parasol to shade himself from the sun. Yves’ sanguine partner tipped his top hat and smiled warmly.

Unfortunately, Severin also joined us.

The group stood in silence, watching the ferry carrying the Rochefort delegation inch closer to shore, while I seethed. Yves might be kind to me, he might even see me as an advisor, but Severin would not. I had to learn to tolerate it.

My attention wandered to the end of the covered dock where Yves stood, his hands clasped behind his back. I studied his broad shoulders and muscular arms, remembering the way his shirt had clung to him in the harbor. And the tattoos that had been nearly visible beneath the sheer material.

Severin said his uncle was generous. I bit my lip, wondering just how generous he could be.

Yves canted his head over his left shoulder, showcasing the woman inked onto his neck, and a bead of sweat rolled down the furrow of my spine. I opened my paper fan to cool myself, but it did nothing.

To everyone, he appeared so controlled, so restrained, but that tattoo told another story. There must be a side to him that was wild.

If only in the bedroom.

I wondered who he lost control with. If there was a consort that he fancied, or one of the lovely courtiers who he enjoyed on the side. A ridiculous flutter of jealousy came and went. I didn’t care how he was in the bedroom or who he was with. It mattered not. I shouldn’t even be thinking about him like this. It was not helpful.

Adrien shifted beside me. “Nobody ever comes to visit us. Why are they here?”

“My father visits at least three times a year,” Severin quickly responded. “And sometimes he brings my brother, Gael. They aren’t nobodies.”

“Uncle Edmond doesn’t count,” Adrien countered

“And why doesn’t he count?” Severin queried.

What little patience Adrien had been demonstrating while watching a ferry approach a dock broke. “Because it’s not visiting if all you do is talk about trade and how many ships are being built,” Adrien complained. “And Gael doesn’t spend any time with me at all. You tell me you have things to discuss that I’m not allowed to hear.”

Severin fixed him with the same stern look he’d given me. “And what would be more befitting a visit? Escaping down the rose trellis and running down the quay?” He shook his head. “It’s not befitting of a vampire to talk poorly of his family. They are mon sang. Your blood.”