Page 21

The man let loose a ringing guffaw that drew the attention of everyone in a four-foot radius. “Yes, yes, I admit the idea was mine! Highlan Pid and I are rather close, so he sought me out for inspiration.”

“A shame he couldn’t ask his daughter Trisne to host it. The parties I attended that she organized were always fantastic.”

The stranger kept that same cocky grin on his thin lips, but there was a subtle shift in the air as his eyes finally rose to meet mine through the veil.

He was sizing me up like the namesake of his outfit, a trebegnon lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right time to strike.

Except he was doing a terrible job of being subdued about it.

“Yes, a shame.” He drawled, his voice whiny without much bass to it. “I was rather fond of Trisne myself. She was a beautiful girl. So full of life. So full of… passion.” A deep breath whistled through his nose and his eyes slid shut as if recalling some euphoric experience.

My skin crawled, and I had to swallow down the disgust that roiled in my stomach.

“You speak as if she is dead. No one has reported her whereabouts, have they?” Irin tensed up beside me, pulling my arm again as a warning.

I ignored it. “And who are you to claim such familiarity to her when you have yet to give your name? It comes across as a bit lecherous, in my opinion.”

“Apologies, my lady. I am Forol Hent, a childhood friend of Jinon’s.

” The bow he gave was half-hearted, not even lowering his head so he could maintain his stare set on my face.

I was even more grateful for the veil now.

Even with my experience in these social gatherings, there was no way my expression was anything less than pure loathing.

“You are in a similar position, I believe. What kind of relationship did you have with Trisne?”

The question was intentionally barbed. I stood stiffly, hoping he would be the fish that caught himself on my hook so I could watch him flail and deny having anything to do with Trisne's death.

Forol's eyes wandered slowly down my body again, his gaze intentionally vile and wholly inappropriate.

Like he was trying to make me uncomfortable and scare me off.

He knew something.

Irin hesitated for only a handful of breaths, then began pulling me away from what was rapidly boiling to a more unsophisticated conversation.

“Dear, I think I see Highlan Ymir and his wife by the desserts. I’ve been meaning to introduce you.

They are staunch supporters of the Terramancy Guild, and I was in the same class as their son. It was good to meet you, Forol.”

I wanted to snarl. Gods, I wanted to leap at this Forol’s throat and tear it open with my teeth and nails.

I would show him what a real predator looks like in the hunt, instead of just wearing the fur of one like he shot it himself.

This fucking bastard knew something about Trisne’s death.

I could feel it. The way he talked about her so off-handedly, like a foregone conclusion, was offensive on its own.

But there was something deeper. Something…

wrong about this Forol Hent. I couldn’t see it with my eyes, but the instinct that kept me alive for so many years was howling in my ears that he was dangerous.

That he was not at all who he presented himself to be.

That cocky smirk stayed plastered to his face all the way to the far wall Irin dragged me to, my eyes never leaving the snake’s.

“Stop it,” he hissed under his breath and gave me a shake. “What is wrong with you?”

I balked. “With me? Were you not listening to the same conversation? Where the fuck were you?” He kept my arm pinned under his when I tried to pull away. Irin was coming very close to having that fucking arm ripped from its socket.

“Let’s step outside and cool down.” Irin towed me along to the closest balcony, nodding to couples and smiling along the way like I wasn’t two seconds from going feral on him. “What is going on with you?”

Keeping the snarl in my throat was difficult.

Irin finally let me snatch my arm away and I moved to grip the banister with both hands hard enough to whiten the knuckles.

Anyone looking on from the inside would probably think I was light-headed and needed some air with how I leaned over the railing.

Really, I was counting five things I could see in an attempt to not lose my composure entirely.

“You didn’t think there was anything off about that Forol bastard?” I kept my voice low enough that Irin had to move to my side to hear clearly. “He knows something about Trisne. The way he talked about her… What kind of friend of Jinon's talks about his daughter that way?”

He turned to lean back against the railing beside me, his hip lightly brushing my hand with his closeness.

His arms folded across his chest and cut a sharp line along his shoulders where the coat pulled tight.

“He was… odd,” he finally answered, “but nothing that would warrant such a violent reaction.”

"Of course not," I spat. "I'm sure Resparian nobility doesn't turn on their own very often. Nor would it seem odd for a man to speak about how passionate his friend's daughter is. How does that not sound perverted to you? Or even mildly suspicious, considering Trisne is now dead?"

The vehemence in my voice seemed to startle Irin. Whether it was from his upbringing in this woman-hating country or his separation of normal behavior because he's royalty, surely neither would make him so blind as to think Forol Hent was totally innocent.

He stared at me like I was a wild animal, wary I was going to tear his throat out.

"Haron, I think you're blowing this wildly out of proportion," Irin began, his voice pitched low enough to stay between us.

"Am I just supposed to haul in a man I've only spoken to once, and interrogate him on Trisne's death because he seemed odd?

From one conversation?" He heaved a sigh and pushed his hand through his hair, turning his eyes to look out over the garden sprawled behind Pid's mansion.

"I know you meant to attend this ball to find anyone who may be involved in her disappearance, but that seems a bit extreme to me.

I thought you were gathering evidence, not going on a full-blown hunt! "

Something twisted painfully in my chest. Perhaps…

he was right. I had no reason to be angry with him, just because Irin didn't share the same suspicion of Forol Hent that I did.

I just couldn't shake the slithering, unsettling feeling that man gave me even with that brief encounter.

There was just something wrong about him, and I was frustrated I couldn't voice what that was exactly.

"I'm sorry," I finally managed to respond, even as the apology tasted like ash in my mouth.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I just… Forol’s behavior warrants some looking into, is all.”

Irin sighed, as if tired of the conversation. “I will ask my spymaster to see what he can find about him. Is that satisfactory enough for you?”

That will have to be enough. For now, at least. "I know you have constraints in your current position, so I appreciate the offer. I’m sure you would hate to rock boats with your ascension to king approaching.”

Irin leaned even closer into my side. The move was slow, a bit hesitant, like he expected me to turn on him and snap my teeth.

“That is not the reason I’m hesitant to dig into the man’s background.

It would be difficult for me to justify tearing his life apart on the back of empty accusations and a bad feeling.

Even as the king apparent. It would not sit well with the nobility, I'm sure. "

I gritted my teeth. “Fine.”

He sighed heavily. “In my thirty-two years of life, never has a woman said she is fine and actually been fine.”

"Thirty-two?" I scoffed. "What a babe! Even more reason to not listen to you, youngster."

One of Irin's brows rose in disbelief. "Really? We're bringing age into this? I'm afraid to ask what yours is, I've seen what you can do to a man's hand. I'm sure that is possible with any other body part I value."

Oh, he would absolutely roll if he knew my true age. "Well, you have some sliver of common sense then. That's reassuring."

My shoulder pressed into his chest in a half-hearted effort to get some space, but Irin refused to budge.

His arm wrapped around the front of my waist and kept our bodies close, his hip now pressed to mine as he tilted his head to peer beneath my veil.

A playful smile tugged at his full lips. “Are we fine?”

“On what terms? This is nothing more than a mutually beneficial working relationship.” It was painful to swallow down the ire prickling in the back of my throat.

But I was already drawing some attention from another couple standing on the other end of the balcony, even if they couldn't hear all we were saying. I had always been an expressive person.

So, I allowed myself to be wrapped even further into Irin's arms, and used my extensive acting skills to smooth over my outburst.

“Hmm, maybe so.” Irin’s mouth moved slowly, achingly so, to brush his lips against the lace-covered skin of my upper arm.

The touch sent gooseflesh prickling under the thin fabric.

“It would be foolish to let someone like you slip through my fingers. I'd be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in something… more.”

“Well,” I hedged, tilting my head further out of reach of his devious lips. “You’re going to have to work for it, like everyone else.”

And with that I twisted out of his arm and dropped a proper, if not somewhat cheeky, curtsy before brushing past the baffled prince back into the ballroom. Regardless of his threats on managing my own interrogations, I would get what I needed from Jinon Pid about his so-called childhood friend.