Ariel cursed as the image vanished before she could figure out his name.
“I’m going to remember.…”
She just hoped the return of her memory wasn’t something bad. Perhaps there was a reason her mind had flushed it all away. Was it trying to protect her?
How would she know?
With a sigh of her own, she rose, more determined than ever to solve this mystery.
Days went by as Ariel worked with Valteri, much to the chagrin of his former steward. While the man claimed to detest his lord, he detested and resented her presence even more.
She was everything he wanted to be. Fast. Accurate. And she never tried the patience of Valteri. Yet there was a wall between them and she wasn’t sure why. It was as if something about her made him nervous. Ludicrous, to be sure.
Still…
Ariel sensed his disquiet as they worked on his latest accounting.
Valteri shook his head. “Is it just me, or does my brother seem to be taxing the air people breathe?”
“How so?”
He gestured at the ledger in her hands. “This is more than just an accounting of his new holdings. I swear, the man is wanting a fee for everything.”
His outrage quirked her humor. “Does he not need it to pay his mercenaries?”
She’d meant to tease him. Instead, his humor grew dark. “You resent us?”
“Why should I?”
Valteri’s gut tightened at her innocence that suddenly seemed feigned. “We conquered you.”
She set her quill aside to cock a brow at him. “You conquered a country, milord. No man has yet conquered me. Nor shall he.”
“What of your husband?”
She let out a deep sigh. “I have no memory of such. All I can recall is a faint image of a man I believe to be my father.”
“And?” He sensed she was hiding something from him.
Biting her lip, she glanced away. “You’ll think me mad.”
Nay. He still thought of her as a spy or assassin. “I won’t think you mad.”
“I see a man who reminds me of you.”
That made his gut tighten. Could she have met his unknown father?
To this day, his mother refused to breathe a word of his father’s identity.
I swore an oath for secrecy and I will abide by it!Herleva of Falaise was a bold bitch who dropped bastards the way some maids dropped ribbons at tournaments for champions. Her steadfast refusal was why so many believed him the son of the devil.
Why else would she refuse when she’d named the father of all his half siblings?
His personal belief was that his father was so low of birth, she was terrified to let anyone know that she’d screwed a stableman.
Or peasant.
More like a priest. It would explain why he was so cursed.
