Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,51
on the back.
Two things became startlingly clear to her in that moment.
The first—whoever Thorne was—he was the reason they were there.
And the second—by the look in their eyes—Thorne and his other warriors had taken a keen interest in her. One that Lazarus was obviously not alright with, if his gritted teeth and tense shoulders were any indication. Judging by the gleam in Thorne’s eyes when he looked at Quinn, the Cisean man saw it too.
Though he attempted to disguise it with his distance as he took a step back from Quinn, Lazarus was fooling no one. Least of all himself.
Necessary Friendships
“There are no true friends, only great allies and even greater enemies.”
— Quinn Darkova, former slave, fear twister, vassal of House Fierté
“Leave us.”
Whether it was in deference to his guests or simply because he felt like it, the Cisean leader, Thorne, abandoned the use of his language completely and slid into a heavily accented Norcastan tongue as he returned to his seat.
The warriors nodded in unison and exited the room quietly and efficiently. “Not you, Vaughn.” The pale-eyed warrior paused on the threshold and looked back. “Take Joachim with you and please allow my friend’s vassals to assist in preparing a place for them to stay.”
Vaughn cast a glance at Quinn as he nodded, but it wasn’t Quinn that moved when Thorne turned an expectant eye on Lazarus. “Lorraine. Dominicus,” Lazarus said. “Follow him.”
They nodded, trailing after Vaughn as he finally left what had become clearer to Quinn was the Cisean leader’s throne room. A heavy silence lingered around them. Draeven kept his gaze sharp and trained forward on the large man. Red eyes slid over Quinn. She didn’t flinch away but met them head on which seemed to amuse Thorne a great deal.
“You’ve brought me some interesting entertainment, Lazarus.” Thorne turned his demonic ethereal gaze to Lazarus as he spoke. “We didn’t expect you for several weeks. You had my men in an uproar.”
“Our plans had to change,” Lazarus replied stiffly. “I apologize for the inconvenience—”
Thorne waved his hand, cutting Lazarus off. “Please, my friend. I am not like your aristocratic kin. No apologies necessary.” A smirk stretched his lips. “However, had you not been recognized by Vaughn, things may have turned very bad for you. You are lucky.”
“I will be sure to give him my thanks,” Lazarus replied. Quinn didn’t believe he would, not for a second.
Thorne nodded, shifting in his seat as he perused Draeven and then Quinn. “I recognize your left-hand, but the girl is new.”
“As I said before”—Lazarus leveled Thorne with a look—“she is a member of my household.”
Thorne nodded. “Yes, you did say that, but what kind of member I am wondering.” His smirk turned roguish. “Has the great dark heir been tamed?”
If it were possible, Lazarus stiffened even further. Quinn frowned as she observed them, curiosity tickling the fringes of her mind. But instead of the abrupt or rude comment she expected from Lazarus, he took a deep breath, the tension in his shoulders releasing all in one go, and with it the tension in the room fizzled out as well.
“A cad as always, Thorne. She is a new vassal. Nothing more.”
Quinn lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.
Thorne nodded, the grin still on his face as he turned towards Quinn. “And does this new vassal speak at all?”
“I speak well enough,” Quinn said, “when I have something to say.”
Lazarus shot her a look that she ignored in favor of focusing on the man before her. Thorne rose from his seat once again and moved forward. “You are an interesting one, aren’t you? And you are obviously not from Norcasta.” He reached for a lock of her hair, his fingers just a mere breadth away from a long silver strand when a dark, tanned hand locked around his wrist.
Quinn blinked, turning her gaze away from Thorne and up to Lazarus as he invaded her space. “My vassal does not like to be touched, Thorne.”
On the other side of Lazarus, Draeven’s mouth hung open for a brief moment before he snapped it shut and controlled his features once more. “Protective, hmmm?” Thorne didn’t seem offended as he tugged his hand away from Lazarus’ grip.
“It’s not me he’s protecting, sir,” Quinn said pointedly with a small smile.
“Oh?” Thorne looked her over curiously. “You think he means to protect me?” Behind the Cisean leader’s back, Draeven’s eyes widened as he shook his head rapidly at Quinn.