Derrick’s eyes twinkled. “No one denies the Duke what he wants.”
He gripped the frame of a portrait of a beautiful fair-haired woman and swung it open like a door. A small set of steps greeted me through the portrait hole.
He helped me up the small ledge and followed me. At the top was a tiny room that fit only a plush pink chair, a footstool, and a small table with parchment atop it. The chair faced a large portrait of Alastar the Faithful, the fifth Duke of Lycaster.
Derrick placed his hand on my shoulder and dropped his voice. “You should see the whole meeting through the portrait.”
I turned, reaching high to take his face in my hands. “You will do just fine.”
I lifted onto my toes to give him a kiss on the jaw.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and smiled. “You do not have to always get on your toes for me. I can meet you at your height.”
I lowered my heels to the ground and shrugged. “I never notice when it happens. When you are small, you spend your whole life on your toes.”
He kissed my hair and turned to leave, but then looked over his shoulder. I gave him a reassuring smile and lifted the hem of my skirt, revealing the Hyton dagger tied to my garter.
I had to replace the Nordingaard crystal with the damn dagger. Derrick rarely let me out of his sight, but wanted me to have protection when I did. If all I had to do was don the familiar weapon to keep him calm, it was worth the minor discomfort.
He gave me an approving smile as soon as he saw the bull-headed hilt and disappeared down the dark steps.
I sank into the pink chair and looked at the large portrait. Though my eyelids were heavy from exhaustion, I focused on the light filtering through the other side of the thin canvas. After a few seconds, I could make out a large table with eight chairs on the sides and a large throne at the end closest to me. The afternoon sun lit up the eight banners of the provinces of Lycaster hanging on either side of the table.
The portrait was just another one of Daigen’s tricks.
I shifted in the chair and thin markings on the wall caught my eye. A list of five women’s names were carved into the wood paneling. A weight dropped in my stomach as my fingertips traced the most recent addition to the list:Freya.
The name was carved in her own writing. Had she sat in the pink chair before me, watching Anders—or more likely, Alastar the Wise—conduct business with the Barons?
My fingers ran up the list, recognizing the next three names as Duchesses of the past, but the first name carved in the wall did not belong to any Duchess. The name in jagged script was not written in any history book, but was special all the same:Annalisa.
I had no idea who the ancient Annalisa was, but I traced her name in the wood, feeling the weight of her unknown history with every stroke of the knife she used to make her mark on the palace itself. What else had she contributed to the Dukedom that no one knew about? Did the Annalisa I knew have any idea the name she carried could have more value than any gemstone?
I knelt on the chair cushion. I felt a little unworthy as I untied the Hyton dagger from the garter, but I tossed the feeling aside.
If I had to hide my magic, my power as a Baron, and even my very presence in the room, I was not going to hide my name too. I slowly and deliberately scraped the blade against the wood underneath Freya’s name.
I was still her lioness, after all.
I pulled back the dagger and smiled.Serafina—the sixth strong, yet invisible, thread in the tapestry of Lycaster history.
The door to the meeting room creaked open and I sat down. The red-haired Baron Mydina walked in and had a seat underneath the light green banner bearing a great black wolf.
Baron Pebblebrooke came in next, seating himself beneath the light blue banner with a white swan. Baron Meadowshyrequietly followed, sitting next to him beneath the pink banner with a lark. Baron Amberfield sulked in and plopped in the seat under the yellow banner with the deer. Baron Thornebow slipped around the door and sat beneath the grey banner with the silver fox.
Finally, Baron Elvar strutted into the room and sat at the right-hand side of the Duke’s throne. The purple Elvar banner bearing the sea serpent eating its own tail was the perfect backdrop for his proud face.
I looked to the left side of the throne—the seats under the crimson Bloodstone banner and dark green Ravenwood banner were empty. I folded my arms across my chest. Those seats were supposed to bemine.
The door swung open and Evereon walked in. His coppery hair was neatly combed and his Bloodstone cape fell from his shoulders. The Bloodstone and Ravenwood pins gleamed on his chest.
At least Evereon was keeping up appearances that he was running the North.
He sat beneath the snarling Bloodstone bear and rested his left leg on the Ravenwood chair. He tossed a vulpine glance to his father. “How disappointing, old man. You put in all that effort to make sure I never ended up in this room and yet…”
Baron Thornebow glanced at Baron Mydina. He had the same dark eyes as his nephew. “What the hell ishedoing here?”
Baron Mydina straightened his spine. “Do not look at me, I have no son.”
