I cut through the crowd, wineglass in hand. Tullus was eyeing Florina’s décolletage as he blustered about something or another, invading her personal space. I couldn’t afford a conflict with him, not tonight of all nights, but I couldn’t leave Florina in his clutches either. This would take finesse.
“Florina!” I called, hoping I hadn’t mixed up the sisters’ names.
Her gaze snapped in my direction, face shining with hope.
“Have you seen your sister?” I asked. “She’s so drunk she’s about to fall face-first into the grass. Come help her.”
“Oh no,” she said. “Please excuse me, Lord Tullus.”
“Yes, my apologies,” I added.
Tullus’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Since it’s you, Sir Valen, I’ll forgive you for stealing her away.”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Never fear, milord. The night is young, and there’s no shortage of ladies in want of your charms.”
Tullus let out a booming laugh, his wine-reeking breath hitting me full in the face. “Sir Valen, you rascal. You remind me of myself when I was younger.”
That was the worst insult I’d ever received. My smile almost turned to a grimace, but I caught myself just in time. I couldn’t let my façade slip in front of him.
I bid him good evening and led Florina away—or tried to. She moved so fast that she passed me within moments, and I had to hurry to catch up with her. Once we’d left Tullus’s sight, I admitted my lie and the reason for it. Florina gazed at me with stars in her eyes, and it took me fifteen minutes to get away from the besotted girl. Once I did…
My gaze went back to the shrubs, but Lady Celestine must have found another hideout. It was a shame. She was refreshingly free of pretentiousness, and I’d enjoyed our conversation. I could find her later…
No. Hadn’t I learned my lesson with Aurea? I had no place in my life for romance. Pursuing someone I cared for would only hurt us both when they learned the truth about me. That’s why I only allowed myself meaningless flings.
I shook my head. Enough pathetic self-pity. Time to get to work.
I drifted through the courtyard toward Tullus’s sizable manor house, handing my empty wineglass to a passing waiter. The building’s white stone gleamed in the lantern light, pointed roofs stretching toward the starry sky. Its windows were dark. Besides the servants rushing to and from the kitchens, the whole place should be empty.
The grand main doors were too visible, the kitchen door too busy. I strolled casually across the grounds, the chatter and music of the party fading behind me, until I reached a small side door close to the stables. The lock was sturdy but straightforward; it took less than a minute to pick.
I slipped inside, leaving behind the simpering knight and becoming someone far more dangerous.
Chapter 2
Valen
Silence and darkness greeted me. The corridor was small and plain, meant for the serving staff rather than the master of the house. More importantly, it was vacant. I crept down it, exploring until I found a room I recognized. Then I swiftly made for Tullus’s study.
My feet made no sound on the carpeted floor, and my ears remained alert for any sign of another person inside. The darkness lent the vast rooms an ominous atmosphere, not helped by the blood-red color Tullus favored for upholstery and the massive collection of weapons he had mounted on every wall.
I’d eat my surcoat if the man could properly hold a sword, much less use one.
I slunk up the staircase, keeping away from the windows on the off chance someone in the gardens glanced inside. Then I stopped at the door of Tullus’s study.
A slight buzz in the air revealed a security spell. It would doubtlessly give a nasty curse to anyone opening the door who wasn’t Tullus or a member of his bloodline.
I didn’t have the magical power it would take to break the spell. What Ididhave was a lineage stone hanging on a silver chain beneath my shirt. The rare gemstone was smooth and forest green, its opaque surface stained with Tullus’s dried blood. (It had taken me three weeks to orchestrate an accidental injury to collect the substance.) Combined with the gemstone’s magical properties, it fooled the spell into thinking I was Tullus himself.
I opened the door and stepped inside, not feeling even a prickle of a curse.
Tullus’s extravagant study was full of bookshelves he probably never touched. Glimmering magic crystals lay in a grid-like arrangement on a small wooden table, powering the failed security spell. I strode straight to his elegantly carved desk and tapped a ring on my right hand, its crystal lighting up with a soft blue glow. It gave me just enough illumination to search through Tullus’s papers.
I scanned household expense reports but found no sign of illegal activity. Drafts of letters to friends and business associates were boring and equally unhelpful. Further searching revealed only his unspeakably terrible attempts at erotic poetry.
A dull thump came from beyond the room, and I froze.
That had sounded like it originated within the manor. And from here on the second floor, not down in the kitchens. Could Tullus have come inside? He had no family living with him, his wives divorced, and he’d never fathered any children.
