Lord Brenheran nodded as he looked Gandrett over like a prize pony. “I see.”
Beside him, Lady Brenheran sought Gandrett’s gaze as if she was trying to tell her something. An apology maybe… But the lady averted her eyes too fast to be reading too much into it.
“There is a lot of work to be done, Brax.” He glanced at the young man, who gave a nod as well, his eyes lighting up despite his otherwise cool expression.
Gandrett tried to make sense of their words, her heart picking up speed. “Denderlain court?” She finally peered over her shoulder to find Nehelon frowning. “I thought I was to free Joshua Brenheran. A mercenary mission.”
The lord laughed before Nehelon could explain. “If it were a mission doable by mercenaries, believe me, our own guards and mercenaries would have managed.” He shot a look of dismay at Nehelon. “He would have managed,” he added, his chin jerking at the male.
It was clear in the lord’s voice and the way Nehelon almost invisibly cringed that this was personal for him. Her success was personal for him.
She took a steadying breath and straightened, placing the sticky napkin on the table before her. “What am I to do to bring Joshua home?”
Chapter Fourteen
“Seduce Denderlain?” Gandrett coughed at Lord Tyrem Brenheran. His wife flinched beside him but said nothing. “You are aware, Lord,” she raged, her calm facade crumbling in the wake of the lord’s words, “that I am a Child of Vala. Trained in swordsmanship. Trained for combat.” She paused, inhaling deeply through her nose, and exhaled through her mouth once. Twice. You, yourself, saw to it that I was sent to the priory as Sives’s stupid sacrifice, she wanted to say. But she held those words in, throwing little daggers through her gaze instead.
The lord acted as if sending a girl of barely eighteen to seduce the enemy for information was something he did every day.
“A disguise,” Nehelon said behind her, his deep voice clarified. “Not a job.”
Brax Brenheran grinned widely as if he was enjoying the spectacle. Nehelon shot him a pointed glare.
“For some reason, House Denderlain knows every face of my guards, male or female. There is no one I can send who they won’t identify right away; and send back with a missing limb in the best case, execute on the spot in a worse case.” He looked her straight in the eye, face fierce with a hint of fatherly concern. “Worst case, they torture my guards, my mercenaries.” His gaze shot to Nehelon and back. “I don’t want to know what they are doing to my son.” Lady Brenheran reached for his hand at that, her face tight. “Hamyn Denderlain is not a man to hold back his blade.” There was a deep sadness in his eyes, and rage—the rage of a father who was helpless, who could do nothing but watch as his son was taken from him, hurt, potentially tortured—
Gandrett’s head sunk at that last memory of her own family. The pleas to choose someone else, to leave their daughter with them. This man before her, sitting in his castle with his wife and son, feeding on imported fruit, fighting on the expense of his people—the people of the west of Sives. She focused on the silverware before her, swallowing any emotion. She had to keep a clear head.
“We need to infiltrate the Denderlain court and find out Joshua’s whereabouts. Last time my men tried to get him, Hamyn moved him just a day before they arrived and had a party of soldiers waiting for them instead.”
Nehelon shifted behind her, but Gandrett didn’t turn, didn’t want to see what was there on his face, if it spoke of pain, of torture, of a history that had driven him to agree to make her nothing more than a courtesan…
“And where exactly do you expect I find Joshua?” she asked pointedly. “In Hamyn’s bed?”
“I like her, Father,” said Brax to the lord and chuckled darkly. Then, he turned to her, shaking his head. “It’s a disguise, Miss Brayton,” he repeated what Nehelon had said before. “Nobody expects you to actually get that far.” His gaze swept over her once more. “And it’s not Hamyn we expect you to seduce but his son and right hand, Armand. You need to win his trust so you can sneak around and find Joshua. And with Armand’s trust, his affections—” He didn’t need to continue.
Gandrett swallowed and looked down at her brown gown, shabby compared to anything she had seen in this palace so far, and became very self-conscious. She knew enough about boys to understand Brax’s assessing glance. He was studying her curves, and the dress, even if plain and unrevealing compared to what some of the courtiers had worn, what Lady Brenheran was wearing, showed off the generous curve of her breasts, her slender waist. Heat rose in her cheeks as she noticed they were all looking now. Even Nehelon, who had stepped forward and stood by her side, face unreadable.
With another deep breath, Gandrett shook the feeling of being an exotic animal to be sold at an auction. “I am a Child of Vala,” she repeated, implying precisely what it meant and reminding the four people in the room of exactly that. “I was forced at the age of seven to swear an oath to be faithful to the goddess and the goddess only. I am sworn to the Order of Vala, and that will be my sole company for the rest of my days.” Nobody had to point out just how bitter she sounded, how little she had wanted that oath. How little she wanted that life.
Even Brax Brenheran lost his grin at her words.
But Tyrem Brenheran, no matter how understanding his eyes were, simply said to Nehelon, “I didn’t pay a fortune for a girl who shies away at the sight of men.”
Nehelon squared his shoulders ever so slightly, as if reminding himself of something, but didn’t speak.
He saw their looks, Lord Tyrem’s and Brax’s. And he could tell they agreed with what he, himself, could no longer deny. Below the plainness of her dress, the girl’s body was as if made to draw men’s stares. She was perfect for the job—especially her skills in sword fighting, her uncanny way of knowing just how to put her opponents on their back. Once she’d made her first kill, she would be unstoppable.
How exciting it was to come across someone skilled and strong enough to maybe even take on him.
But seducing Armand Denderlain to win his trust, even if it was just a decoy…
He remembered that first time Lord Tyrem had hatched the plan. Find Joshua by infiltrating the palace. Armand Denderlain, Hamyn’s right hand and commander of the guard, was suspicious of every new addition to his fighters, every new courtier, so there was only one way to get her close enough to him without having to introduce her as a servant.
Maybe they would plant her at one of Denderlain’s parties, Armand was known for always looking for a new face. He was sure Armand would not miss her undeniable beauty.
“I don’t shy away from anyone,” Gandrett clarified, her cheeks stained in a shade of red that reminded him of the wild raspberries in the forests of Ulfray.
Brax’s eyes sparked as he noted the fire in Gandrett’s gaze. Not a Child of Vala—a warrior of Vala.
“You may have bought me from the Meister like a common slave,” she said, her voice deadly calm, “but I am nobody’s whore.” She paused, letting her words sink in, and to Nehelon’s satisfaction, Lady Crystal gave a short nod of agreement. “I will do what I can to save your son. I will risk my life because that is what I was trained for. I will even slip into make-up and flimsy dresses to get it done.”