Kurtz’s bloodvoice sounded in Cole’s mind. You all right?
Cole remembered to think his reply. Fine.
I know the look of a man whose nightmares just came to life, Kurtz voiced. Who is he?
Former stepbrother, Cole thought. He and his brother used to…They weren’t kind.
We don’t have to take the job, Kurtz said. Or you don’t. Mistel can play chords now. We can manage.
No. Cole would not let Mistel out of his sight, especially around Drustan Fawst. He glanced at her, then, and found she was already chatting with another admirer. Blazes, she was a handful.
But the king had put Cole in charge of this mission, and Arman trusted Achan as king. So when Cole had agreed to let Mistel stay, keeping her safe—and alive—had become his responsibility, even if that meant he had to face Drustan and the ghosts of his past.
Chapter 19
Mistel
If Mistel focused on the view, she could almost forget her numb toes. Almost.
The Erlichman estate perched on a rise east of the city, commanding a breathtaking view of the frozen harbor. Mistel rode Bart between Zanna and Cole along the snowy road. On the horizon, the brilliant blue sky blurred into the sea. Absolutely gorgeous.
She pulled her cloak tighter. Tsaftown could freeze the joy right out of a person, but at least their destination looked warm. Ahead, just past a set of large iron gates and framed by frostbitten pines, stood a sprawling, snow-blanketed estate, larger than any Mistel had seen in Armonguard’s Hamisha Hills. The three-story manor’s pale gray stone walls contrasted with dark wood beams. Smoke curled from a dozen or more chimneys spaced along steep, snow-laden roofs. Icicles hung from their ledges, gleaming like crystal daggers.
Mistel counted seven outbuildings, not including all the tiny doghouses—some occupied by dogs lounging atop their roofs—and a vast stable adorned with decorative iron horseshoes.
They left their horses with the stablemaster and approached the manor’s grand double oak doors. Mistel spun in place, imagining the parties she could throw in such a location.
“Everything is so clean and tidy,” she said. “I half expect a royal procession to arrive.”
“Undeniable wealth,” Cole said.
“And excellent taste,” Mistel added. “If they have warm pastries, I might stay forever.”
A steward ushered them into the spacious manor, and warmth immediately swept over Mistel. They passed by a small hall with a high-beamed ceiling and four long wooden tables. The perfect place to throw a ball. The elevated platform at the end could serve as a stage for their band to perform. Yet the hall sat empty. Too bad.
The steward led them to a modest chamber warmed by a crackling fire. Dark wood paneling, velvet-upholstered chairs, and a silver tray of steaming mulled wine gave the place a luxurious feel.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” the steward said. “I’ll inform the master of your arrival.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Kurtz poured them each a cup.
Mistel wrapped her hands around the warm ceramic, inhaling the scent of cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg.
She had drained her mug by the time the steward returned. He escorted them down a hall lined with towering tapestries and crystal candelabra. The mouthwatering aroma of roasted meat curled around her. How was she supposed to sing with such a feast taunting her?
They entered an elegant dining room where a hearth blazed. Four people sat at one end of a long table adorned with fine linens and silver platters heaped with food. Mistel recognized Nash Erlichman and Drustan Fawst, the rude one Cole admitted on the ride up that he’d known in his childhood. The older man and woman must be Nash’s parents.
The steward cleared his throat. “Sirs and madam, may I present the esteemed musicians who have graciously accepted your invitation: Master Cole Tanniyn, Master Kurtz Chazir, Mistress Mistel Wepp, and Mistress Anna Tankel.”
“At last!” Nash stood, his smile broad. “I bid you welcome. Please, have a seat.”
Mistel’s heart leaped. Sit at the table?
“You don’t want us to play?” Cole asked, raising his lute.
Nash winced. “A misunderstanding. I simply wanted to get to know you all better.”
Mistel couldn’t believe it. They were guests!
