Page 41 of Thief of Souls
Pasting a smile on his face, he prowls into the gathering, but he’s clearly looking for someone.
Now I know who is he is.
He’s the Lord of Mistmark’s assassin. He has to be.
Every court has one, and while they’re usually less… visible, Mistmark would want to keep his well in hand in an enemy court.
And he somehow saw right through my shadows.
8
Two hours later, there’s no sign of Keir.
What is he doing?
I pace the party, trying to hold my own with people I don’t care about and trying to avoid both Falion and Mistmark. Someone laughs about how “Malechus is keeping such a close eye on dear Anissa,” and the group I’m passing all exchange secret smiles. I slip among them, hoping for more information, but the only other thing I glean is that with Belladonna marrying, Malechus’s stakes as a bachelor just increased.
And that’s when I finally see Keir, surrounded by a flock of pretty fae woman.
Our eyes meet across the garden.
This was my idea. But I hate the way it feels to see him with a pair of handsome blondes practically perched on his knees.
Stop it,I tell myself.They’re hardly perched upon him.And they’re gigglers. He hates gigglers….
It doesn’t matter if he hates gigglers or not, because he’s doing exactly what you asked of him.
“Stop staring at him. Stop staring at him. Stop staring at him,” I whisper under my breath, and turn to intercept another servant with a tray of iced lemons.
I’ve eaten three already.
But I should have been watching my back, instead of Keir.
“The Lady Merisel of Greenslieves,” Belladonna purrs, linking her forearm through mine as she slips out of nowhere. “Walk with me.”
Clearly, there’s little choice. “An honor, Your Highness, though are you not busy with your forthcoming wedding?”
“For you, I’ll make time.” She cuts me a smile and leads me toward the maze.
What is with this maze?
If I were Malechus, I’d send a dozen dryads into it to hide, and I’d have every secret that’s available at this bloody court.
The thought makes me look closely at every tree in the row. Not a single face is revealed in any of the trunks, but a shiver runs down my spine regardless.
And then my mind helpfully conjures a recap of Mistmark and Falion’s conversation.
Not helpful.
It’s a big maze. It’s not as though the beast will be lurking near the party….
You can always throw Belladonna at it….
“The wedding celebrations have been lovely thus far,” I say, though I’m terrible at small talk.
And who needs to make it right now?
Clearly, she’s not dragging me in here because she thinks I’m a stimulating conversationalist.
