Page 149 of The Rogue's Curse

“Yes, ma’am,” Paris said. “Should I introduce myself, or do you already know?”

Her eyebrow arched. “Phillippe ‘Paris’ Rossignol, right hand to Julian Alcott, previously loyal to Eduardo Alazan. Currently serving the Durendal court in a rather unconventional decision to splinter from a powerful court into a less advantageous situation. You have a reputation for being loyal but foolish, as well as a generous lover,” she said, with the same calm she would have described the weather.

Paris’s jaw dropped. “Well, I wouldn’t presume to correct your impression.”

Her expression remained ice cold. “Did you and your court imprison my agent against his will?”

Paris shifted uncomfortably. He looked at Misha, and he could see the battle raging behind his lover’s eyes. Paris wanted to protect him. “Not precisely,” he said.

Misha winced, and before he could move, Rafaela was behind them, driving a stiletto-thin blade into the back of Paris’s neck. He jolted and let out a sharp cry, but didn’t fight back.

Sharp pain lanced up Misha’s arm, and he protested, “Hey!”

“There’s no need for any pain, Mr. Rossignol. But I have places to be and very little patience for prevarication,” Lady Demirci said. “I will ask you a direct question, and you will give me a direct answer.”

“No, I didn’t keep him against his will,” Paris said, digging his hands into his own thighs to keep from squirming.

“Mikhail?” Lady Demirci asked. “Explain yourself. Mr. Rossignol says that he did not detain you. You were given orders to return home, but you did not follow them. Did you not understand?”

“I understood,” he said. “I chose to ignore them.”

“Are you engaged in a sexual relationship with Mr. Rossignol?”

“Yes,” Misha said.

“Does this have to do with your refusal to return?”

He looked at Paris, then back at Lady Demirci. “Partially.”Her nostrils flared with irritation. “Ma’am, may I speak freely?”

“Speak,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.

“I was attracted to Mr. Rossignol, but that had no impact on my work. We focused on the mission and engaged in intimacy only when it was appropriate,” he said. “Using my magic caused some unpredictable side effects that incapacitated me for a time.”

“We’re aware of this. Your mentor informed me that she ordered you to come home so she could assist you in dealing with these effects,” Lady Demirci said. “Furthermore, Ophelia Klein also ordered you to come home. You made a choice to ignore her.”

He nodded. “That’s right.”

“Because of your attraction to Mr. Rossignol?”

“Because I believed in what he was doing,” Misha said. “Carrigan Shea was killing with impunity, and I knew that we were close to victory. I was—”

“We?” Lady Demirci said, cocking her head. “You are not a part of their court. You serve the Crown. And your mission is what we say it is.”

His throat went dry. “Ma’am, if your mission is to let more people die to Carrigan Shea, then we don’t have the same mission anymore.”

Her eyes went wide, and then they deepened to a red so dark they were nearly black. “You would defy the Crown?”

“I don’t want to, but—”

“Misha,” Rafaela said in a warning tone. The air was suddenly heated. He recognized the scent of her magic billowing over him. She was preparing to take him down.

“Let him speak,” Lady Demirci said.

“Ma’am, I have served the Crown loyally for more than fifty years. You have held me responsible for crimes I did not commit because the one who committed them was long dead, and I was the only one left to serve the penance.”

“That isn’t—”

“I had no choice in what Frasier did,” he interrupted. “I had a choice this time, and whatever you decide to do with me, I’m not going to apologize for the choice I made. That we made. If you need to order me back to Rome to study with Rafaela for the next decade to believe me, then so be it. I would make the same decision again in ten years, and in a hundred years after that.”

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