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“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“I…” He licked his pink lips. “It’s not. It’s just…I couldn’t help overhearing last night. Lady Evelina said she didn’t want to marry.”

I tugged on the parchment, and he released it, sending it flapping back toward me. I picked it up and rolled it into a tight scroll. “My sister doesn’t want to do anything I want her to do. It’s her whole personality. If I told her she couldn’t marry Martin of Lar Plestes she would have already eloped.” Immediately, I regretted saying so much. All of Nor Doru knew of Evelina’s antics. There was no need to give the gossips more fodder. And I wasn’t entirely convinced Jordan of Twyl wasn’t a spy. Even if he wasn’t, he probably couldn’t give a shit about my domestic problems.

But his smile was sympathetic. “Sisters,” he said, as if that explained everything. In a way, it did.

“You have one?”

“Three.”

“Gods.” A shiver went down my spine. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

I must have looked genuinely horrified, because he laughed, displaying a dimple in one cheek. “It’s not so bad. They’re all a lot older, and they wed years ago. My biggest problem when I return home is getting swarmed by nieces and nephews. It’s hard to keep everyone’s names straight.”

He didn’t sound like it was a problem. If the soft smile curving his lips was any indication, he loved it.

“It sounds nice,” I said, and I found myself looking for that damn dimple again. I’d never noticed it before. Because he’d never laughed in front of me. I certainly hadn’t given him a reason to.

“It is.” His smile faded, but the warmth lingered in his eyes.

I tucked the contract under my arm and fetched my gloves. Instead of pulling them on, I slapped them gently against the cover of the nearest book on his table. “You waste your time with this. Lar Satha is an impoverished estate whittled down to a patch of infertile land and a crumbling tower. Scholars have researched the rumors of elven blood and found the evidence lacking. It’s a house of no import. There’s nothing remarkable about it.”

“King Baylen of Sithistra defied his council and his First Queen to wed Vessa of Lar Satha. He put his crown at risk to take a vampire with no money and hardly any station to wife. You don’t find that remarkable, my lord?”

“Vessa of Lar Satha was the greatest beauty in Ter Isir. Men will do a lot of stupid things for pussy.”

He flinched at my bluntness…but then he swallowed. “Not all men,” he said softly.

A beat passed. “No,” I said just as softly, “not all men.”

An understanding passed between us—one I’d recognized since I was twelve years old and knew I wasn’t quite like everyone else, or at least the mix of squires and lords’ sons who trained at court. They talked endlessly of pussy, and I found plenty to interest me in the soft curves and sweet-smelling hair of the serving maids they chased after. But I was also plagued by images of hard muscles and tight asses. Sometimes, I didn’t want soft or sweet-smelling. Alone in my narrow cot in the squires’ quarters, I yearned for masculine sweat and rough skin…

I’d fought those forbidden desires to no avail. Ran as far from them as I could, but it was never far enough. Then Laurent had come along and showed me why. He knew things like that, just as he knew Jordan of Twyl would welcome my advances.

And in another life, I might have pursued the earnest, oddly charming ex-brother. He offered something safer and easier than what I had with Laurent, which was complicated and often difficult. At times, I hated it. More often, I hated myself for needing it. But I was also addicted to it. No matter how much trouble it brought, I knew I’d never give it up.

I’d resisted that reality for a time, but now I faced it unflinchingly. I was good at that—at accepting things I’d rather not acknowledge. It was how I survived. How I made sure Laurent survived.

And this problem with the Deepnight… There were no coincidences. I could ignore Jordan of Twyl all I wanted, but he kept popping up. He spoke of elven blood and secrets at the same time Given of Sithistra had crossed the Rift and claimed to hear voices she shouldn’t be hearing.

I looked Jordan square in the eye. “I serve the king.”

“Yes. Of course.” Any disappointment I thought I glimpsed on his face was covered quickly. “We are all his servants.”

“It’s my job to protect the crown from threats.”

“Yes, my lord. I know that.”

I went to the library doors and bolted them shut. Then I returned to Jordan’s table and sat. Silently, I motioned for him to do the same.

Fear reigned on his face, but he sank into his seat without protest.

“What do you know about House Lar Keiren?” I asked. “And if you know anything, you already know vampires of the warrior class can sense lies, especially at close range.”

For a moment, he was quiet. “I know what you’re really asking, my lord, and that’s what do I know about you.”

I allowed a small smile to touch my lips.