From Blood & Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,70
doing funny, strange things in my chest as I stepped into the airy hall, my pulse thrumming.
Two Royal Guards were stationed outside the private quarters of the Duke and Duchess. There were several rooms on this floor used for greeting various members of the house and Court. Both had their own spaces and suites that connected to bedchambers, but based on where the Royal Guards stood, I knew the Duke was in the main suite.
Unease returned, slithering through my veins. For a brief moment, I’d forgotten about why I could’ve been summoned.
“Penellaphe?” Hawke said from behind me.
Only then did I realize two things. One, I’d come to a complete standstill in the hall, and I was sure that seemed odd to him. And secondly, he had called me by my name twice now instead of Maiden. He wasn’t Vikter. He wasn’t Tawny. Both of whom only called me by my name when we were alone.
I knew I should correct his use of my given name, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to, and that frightened me as much as what awaited me in the Duke’s office.
Taking a deep breath, I clasped my hands together as I straightened my shoulders and started forward.
The Royal Guards avoided eye contact as they bowed upon our approach. The dark-skinned one stepped aside, his hand on the door. He started to open it.
For some reason, I looked back at Hawke. Why, I had no idea. “I’ll wait for you here,” he assured.
I nodded and then faced forward again, forcing one foot in front of the other, telling myself that I was getting worked up over nothing.
Stepping into the suite, the first thing I noticed was that the curtains had been drawn. The soft glow of several oil lamps seemed to be absorbed by the dark wood paneling and the furniture fashioned from mahogany and crimson-hued velvet. My gaze fell to the large desk and then the credenza behind it, where several crystal bottles of various sizes were full of amber liquor.
Then I saw him.
The Duke sat on the settee, one booted foot resting on the table before him, and a glass of liquor in his hand. Chills swept through me as he looked over at me with eyes so dark, the pupil was almost indistinguishable.
It made me think that when next I saw Ian, his eyes would no longer be green like mine. They’d be like the Duke’s. Pitch-black. Bottomless. But would they be as chilling?
I suddenly realized that the Duke wasn’t alone.
Across from him was Lord Mazeen, seated in an arrogant sprawl. He held no drink in his hands, but his fingers tapped idly on his bent knee. There was a smirk on his well-formed lips, and every instinct in me screamed that I needed to run because there was no fighting what was coming.
The door clicked shut behind me, causing me to jump a little. I hated the response, hoping that the Duke hadn’t seen it, and knowing that he had when I saw him smile.
Teerman rose from the settee in one fluid, boneless movement. “Penellaphe, I am so incredibly disappointed in you.”
Chapter 13
Cold to my very core, I drew in a short, measured breath as I watched him take a drink from his glass. I knew I had to choose my words carefully. It wouldn’t change what was to come, but it could determine the severity. “I’m sorry to have disappointed you,” I started. “I—”
“Do you even know what you have done that has disappointed me?”
Muscles in my shoulders stiffened, and my gaze darted from the silent Lord to the corner of the suite, where several, narrow pieces of reddish-brown wood were propped against a bookcase. They were fashioned from a tree that grew within the Blood Forest. When I looked back at Lord Mazeen, I saw that he was smiling. I was beginning to think that he had reported something back to the Duke, but if I was wrong about that, it would only add to my problems.
And Lord Mazeen knew this as he watched me. He gave no indication of the role he played in this. Even if his part was only to bear witness. He rarely spoke when he attended these lessons. While his silence would typically give me relief, it only heightened my anxiety now.
I forced the next words out even though they rolled off my tongue all wrong. “I don’t, but I’m sure, whatever it is, I am at fault. You’re never disappointed in me without cause.”