He, too, was reasonable, she decided. Maybe sheshouldjoin hands with him. With their combined might, they might just manage to temper Velten’s moods.
The inquisitor turned back to find her still gripping the sides of the carriage’s doorway. Smirking, Estevan seized her wrist. “Besides, who would dare stop me from getting what I want?” And then he pulled.
In a yelp, Semras fell and closed her eyes, bracing for the impact on the ground.
It never came. She knew it wouldn’t.
Estevan caught her in his arms, just as he had wanted. When she opened her eyes to meet his, she made sure they conveyed the height of her displeasure.
“Welcome to my home, witch,” he said, grinning. “Do not get too comfortable in it.”
The bastard.
Estevanescortedherintoa spacious entrance hall illuminated by gas sconces. Frescoes of woodlands and fields had been painted in the space between the lights, bringing a touch of colour to the white plaster walls.
Waiting with poise, a grey haired man stood in the middle of the hall.
“Master Sin’Sagar,” the inquisitor greeted.
With a perfectly maintained posture, the older gentleman bowed to Estevan, then to Semras. Kohl lined his amber eyes, highlighting them against the cool bronze shade of his skin—an Andakkadian, Semras noted. Dressed with impeccable taste in a black beaded garb, Master Sin’Sagar eyed her, then turned his attention to the inquisitor.
“My lord,” he replied in a deep, mellow voice. “May I suggest the construction of a north and south wing to the manor?”
Estevan frowned, confused.
In the same deadpan manner he had spoken so far, Sin’Sagar continued, “Considering the current occupant of the west wing and that this young lady here will surely be hosted in the east wing, I believe we should plan for the future, my lord.”
The inquisitor’s confusion turned to bafflement and then vexation as understanding dawned on him. Semras burst into laughter.
“Remind me why I keep you in my retinue, Sin,” Estevan said, ears reddening, “because it certainly is not for your banter.”
Indiscreetly wiping a few tears from her eyes, Semras stopped her snickering. “Perhaps the inquisitor doesn’t care for it, but I would gladly welcome your conversation anytime, Master.”
Sin’Sagar bowed his head to her. “I see the lady possesses an excellent disposition. Allow me to commend you on your taste, my lord.”
Muttering curses under his breath, Estevan crossed his arms and looked away, ears still tinted red.
Sin’Sagar turned his attention back to Semras, then smiled politely. “I was informed of your pending arrival. Welcome to Inquisitor Velten’s household, Miss Semras of Yore. I am his master steward, Sin’Sagar il-Mashdara’Nirngalu. You may call me Master Sin’Sagar, or Master Steward.” The gentleman delicately took her hand, then bowed over it, eyes still trained on her. “And once we’ve become friends … you may call me Sin.”
Blushing slightly, Semras smiled. The older man had manners, unlikecertaininquisitors whose icy eyes currently burned holes into the hand he held.
“Master Sin’Sagar, I insist you call me Semras,” she replied, grazing her fingers on her neck.
Estevan groaned. “Do not call her so familiarly,” he said to the steward, then added for her, “I thought I already talked to you about propriety, witch?”
“Sir Ulrech tried to tell me.Youjust screamed something at me.”
“A most likely occurrence, miss. Allow me to apologize in his stead.” Bowing once more, Sin’Sagar smiled. His eyes turned into two thin, gleaming slits of amber. “I know how confusing the rules of the Vandalesian gentry can be. I had to learn them myself when I came here in my youth.”
An exasperated groan escaped Estevan. “Great. You two are getting along wonderfully. That is great,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We will not need new wings, Master Steward. And you will not prepare the east wing for the witch. You will prepare the side bedroom.”
Sin’Sagar arched a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. “… The one connected to your room, my lord?”
“Stop fretting like an old maid. She will not remain here for long. This is only to keep her close by during her stay with us.”
“Of course, my lord.” He bowed deeply. “I shall ensure the servants bring her luggage to the right place.”
“One more thing. Make a room available for a new Venator knight. Sir Themas has joined my retinue lately. I am not yet sure if I will retain his services or not, but he …” The inquisitor paused and glanced at her neck. “Well, he has proven reliable under pressure so far. He should be outside with Sir Ulrech. Look for the blond boy; if he is too polite to believe it, you have found him.”
