Home > A Soul of Ash and Blood(51)

A Soul of Ash and Blood(51)
Author: Jennifer L. Armentrout

There was that…spunky attitude—the fire I’d seen in her. “No insincere thanks are required or needed. It is my duty to keep you safe. Even from treacherous staircases.”

She drew in a deep, audible breath. “My gratitude was not insincere.”

Noting the irritation in her tone, I grinned. “My apologies, then.”

We reached the third-floor landing, taking the left that led to the castle’s newer wing. She was quiet once more, as usual, and I used the time to plot what to say to her next. She was clearly worried I’d recognized her and would report it, which was just silly. But did she really believe I didn’t recognize her voice? Or hadn’t seen enough of her features that night at the Red Pearl to know it was her when she was unveiled? She didn’t strike me as being that foolish. Perhaps she wanted to believe I hadn’t recognized her, despite what she had said to Tawny.

Reaching the wide, wooden doors at the end of the hall, I purposely made sure my arm brushed hers as I opened one side. Her lips parted slightly in response. I held the door for her, waiting for her to enter.

“Watch your step,” I said, even though the spiral staircase was well-lit from the numerous oval-shaped windows along the wall. I didn’t think she’d trip again, but I was confident I’d get another response out of her. “You trip and fall here, you’re likely to take me out on your way down.”

She huffed. “I won’t trip.”

“But you just did.”

“That was a rarity.”

“Well, then, I feel honored that I bore witness to it.” I eased past her, fighting a laugh. “I’ve seen you before, you know.”

Her breath hitched.

“I’ve seen you on the lower balconies.” I held open the door to the fourth floor. “Watching me train.”

“I wasn’t watching you. I was—”

“Taking in the fresh air? Waiting for your lady’s maid, who is not a maid?” I caught her elbow once more, stopping her. I lowered my head until I was a few inches from her veil-covered ear. “Perhaps I was mistaken,” I spoke, my voice low. “And it wasn’t you.”

There it was again, the catch in her breath. Those tiny reactions were a good sign. “You are mistaken,” she said, her voice softer but not in that submissive way.

One side of my lips tipped up as I let go of her arm. That veiled head tilted toward mine, a ghost of a smile on her lips. One not as tight. Nor as practiced. I stepped into the hall, spotting two Royal Guards stationed outside the quarters where I’d first spoken to the Duke. I waited for her, but she had gone still again. I looked down, finding that she wasn’t looking at me but at the two Royal Guards down the hall.

“Penellaphe?” I questioned.

She jerked slightly and then took another deep breath. She clasped her hands together and moved forward. The two Royal Guards stared ahead, not looking at her as she stopped before them. One started to open the door, but she turned her head back to me.

Something about that made me wish I could see all of her face. Those warning bells renewed as my gaze flicked to the doors of the Duke’s office.

“I’ll wait for you here,” I assured her.

There was a moment of hesitation, and then she nodded, turning away. The Royal Guard opened the door wide enough for her to enter, just enough for the Ascended’s faint, stale-sweet scent to waft out. As she left my line of sight, the urge to follow hit hard and unexpectedly. More of those warning bells I’d been experiencing. They were even louder now.

I strained to hear anything beyond the doors, but there was nothing. The walls in the newer parts of the castle were thicker.

My hand tightened on the hilt of the sword as I eyed the two Royal Guards. I didn’t recognize either of them. “Is this common?” I asked, nodding at the door.

The darker-skinned one answered after a moment. “Not too common.”

That wasn’t much of an answer. “How long do these…meetings take?”

Again, the one who spoke hesitated. “Depends.”

I glanced at the other guard. He stared straight ahead as if he heard nothing of the conversation. I looked between the two, sure they had witnessed some horrific shit.

Atrocities they had decided they could live with knowing.

I could force them to tell me what they’d seen—the things involving her—but using compulsion was too great a risk. Some mortals were resistant, remembering everything they were compelled to do.

Instead, I sent a steward to get Vikter. Maybe he could tell me what was going on.

A muscle ticked in my jaw, as did the time while I committed both guards’ faces to memory. About ten minutes passed before the doors at the end of the hall swung open, and Wardwell entered, his white mantle streaming behind him. He motioned me forward as he stopped several feet away.

I didn’t move. Not for several seconds. It was like my damn feet were rooted to the floor. Glancing at the doors to the Duke’s office, I forced myself to move and join Wardwell.

“How long has she been in there?” he asked, dragging a hand over the sandy strands of his hair.

“A little over ten minutes,” I answered, noting how the creases at the corners of his eyes had deepened. “What does the Duke want with her?”

“He likely wanted to discuss her upcoming Ascension,” he answered, attention focused on the doors behind me. “I will take over from here and continue for the rest of the day.”

Everything in me went on alert. “My shift doesn’t end for several hours.”

“I know.” His gaze shifted to mine. “But I’m here now. You got a problem with that, take it up with the Duke.”

Irritation flared deep, and energy ramped up in my core. I felt the compulsion to make him tell me what was going on building in me as I snagged Wardwell’s gaze. I had to fight it back. Knowing my luck, this fucker would be one who remembered everything they did while under compulsion.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the urge down. I looked over my shoulder at those closed doors. “She…”

“She what?” he pushed when I didn’t finish.

She’d looked at me as if she needed assurance that I’d be out here, waiting for her.

And that should’ve pleased me. It meant that she was already starting to trust me, despite my short time as her guard. I figured the Red Pearl had a lot to do with that, but either way, I needed it from her. Trust. However, nothing about this sat right with me.

“Hawke,” Wardwell snapped.

“Nothing,” I said, tearing my gaze from the doors. I smiled at the older Royal Guard. “Good day.”

Then I walked away.

I left the fourth floor.

I left the Maiden.

 

 

A TWISTED IRONY OF SORTS

 

 

The reason for the meeting between the Duke and the Maiden remained a mystery, much to my ever-growing displeasure.

Especially when Vikter changed up the schedule, moving me to guard over her the following night when I was supposed to be watching over her that day. He’d done the same today, and when I demanded to know why, he’d pulled rank while calling me a boy. I wasn’t sure which of those two things irritated me the most as I stood outside the Maiden’s chambers, the dark hall lit by a few scattered wall sconces.

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