Page 95 of Blackheart

Xavian leaned forward, steepling his fingers. “Creatures?”

“Well, they are simple, and not like us or usefu-”

Riven shot out of his seat, yanked Arthur Pos up by the collar before he could manage a full sentence.

Draven stiffened. “My lord, I implore you to remember that Lord Pos controls our mines. Do not allow the Oathkeeper to behave this way.”

Effortlessly, Riven dragged Arthur across the floor to the window overlooking the sea and dangled him over the edge.

“You should have stayed in Drakington! You defiant, hedge-born,bastard!”

Arthur squealed like a castrated swine on his way down, landing with a grand splash.

The rest of the council rushed to the window, peering over. He flailed as his head surfaced for air.

Draven glared at Riven, while Avan was thrilled.

“Reschedule our meeting for this evening,” Xavian said. “Pos will need time to dry.”

He left the meeting room, storming down the stone hallways and entering a courtyard behind the House of Sterling.

Blademen trained while elegantly dressed nobles strolled along casually. A woman with sandy bronze hair wearing a light-blue dress caught Xavian’s gaze. She was slightly taller than the other women around her, curvy, and had an element of innocence about her.

She gave him a quick look before strutting back into the House of Sterling, letting the door close behind her.

Xavian moved along, taking a lap around the courtyard while mostly focusing on the training. Nobles rushed to him, their eyes alight by the sight at their lord.

After a few minutes, he exited the courtyard through a side door, and entered a muted stairwell. He crept up the steps before walking down a hallway that appeared… residential?

He opened the door to a feminine bedroom, where dresses were laid along a chaise and an array of powders and cosmetics were scattered on a vanity.

The woman in blue stood against a bedpost, hiding her arms behind her back. From her attractive gown to her freshly pinned-back curls and jewels, it was obvious she was of wealth or nobility.

“How was your meeting?” Her voice was rich and silky, like it too, was expensive.

“None of your concern.”

“Of course.”

Xavian's eyes practically undressed her from the bottom up as he placed his hands on her waist.

“Did my father?—”

He tensed, and she stopped herself, words lingering without an end.

“I have no desire to discuss your father.”

Shewas Arthur Pos’ daughter. They shared the same pronounced chin and hooded eyes.

If she was disappointed by Xavian’s answer, she hid it well. “What do you desire, my lord?”

“Put your hands on the bed.”

Oh, hell no.

No no no no.

I tried forcing myself awake, but my eyes would not open.