It didn’t stop her hands from shaking.
Another knock. “My lady?”
A thousand excuses flitted through her mind, but none were strong enough to counteract the suspicion she’d draw if she refused to see Rhone. Clinging to the assurance that she’d survived the interview with his father, Amryn stepped to the door. Her palms were damp as she opened it.
Rhone stood in his crimson uniform, his dark hair and sharp features looking far too much like Rivard. Unease speared through her.
The knight gave her an easy smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
She cleared her throat. “Not at all. Is there something I can do for you?”
“May I come in?”
Every instinct screamed at her to refuse, but she knew she couldn’t. Her voice was a little too hoarse as she said, “Of course.”
Rhone glanced around the room as he walked in, taking in the space. His eyes lingered on the painting of Carver’s family.
Amryn closed the door, watching him warily even though she sensed no danger from him. Curiosity, maybe. Especially as he spotted the cello case.
“I’m assuming you’re the musician?” he asked. The quirk of his lips might have been charming, if he weren’t a knight.
“Yes. Carver gave it to me.” She wasn’t sure why she added that, except the silence between them was unbearable. Why was he here?
“Ah.” Amryn didn’t understand the sudden wistfulness that threaded through him. “Carver is a good man.”
“He is.”
“You’re lucky,” he murmured. “Both of you are, to have made a good match.”
She assumed his thoughts had gone to his brother, who had been married to Tam—until she’d killed him.
Amryn swallowed hard, uncomfortable with feeling Rhone’s still-raw grief. It made him feel too human. “Is there something you needed?” she asked.
Rhone straightened. “It has come to my attention that your maid from Esperance remained here with you.”
“Yes.” Anxiety whispered through her. “She wanted to stay.”
“So I’ve been informed.” His dark brows knit. “I thought all the servants from Esperance journeyed back there with my father and brother, which means your maid has yet to be interviewed. Is she here?”
“No. She has her own room.”
“Will you give me directions?”
Amryn did, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that whoever had told Rhone that Ahmi had remained in Zagrev could have probably shared where her room was.
She bit her lower lip. “If that’s all . . .”
“Actually, I was wondering if you’ve remembered anything else you might want to share with me. Perhaps you’ve recalled something you didn’t think to tell my father when you spoke with him.”
Amryn shook her head. “I can’t think of anything.”
“Well. It doesn’t hurt to ask.” His smile was smaller this time. “Do let me know if you remember anything. Sometimes, it is the smallest detail that can lead us to the empaths we hunt.”
Unease snaked through her, but she merely nodded before walking him to the door. She breathed a little easier once he stepped into the corridor. Being in view of her guards helped, though she knew they wouldn’t really be able to do anything if the knight decided to arrest her.
Rhone twisted to face her. “Thank you for your time, Lady Vincetti.” He held out his hand.
She shook it, trying to ignore the bone ring that glinted at her.
