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After the meeting, Owain’s luxurious carriage felt more like a prison cell.

The scented oils that the Blackwell servants had applied that morning had turned sickly sweet in the afternoon heat, mixing with the sour smell of three men’s frustration and anger.

Every bounce and rattle of the wheels over cobblestones made Hugo’s teeth clench, each jolt feeling like another small humiliation after their defeat in the guild hall.

The leather beneath Owain’s hands creaked as his fingers dug into the upholstery.

His scowl deepened with each bump, transforming his handsome features into something dark and brooding.

Across from him, Sir Rian’s considerable bulk shifted restlessly, the knight’s sword scraping against the wooden panels as he adjusted his position for the tenth time in as many minutes.

"Sniviling cowards, scrambling for coins and benefits when there are demons breathing down our necks," Sir Rian spat, clenching his fist as if he wished that one of those guild masters was present in the carriage with them so he could personally tell them what he thought of their attitudes.

"This is what it’s like on the coast," Owain said with a snort. "Money, money, money. They treat these ’Guild Masters’ as though they’re the same as knights and even Count Rhys is a member of one of their guilds. He’s actually proud of it, belonging to a guild of fishermen and fish mongers."

"Count Blackwell is a guild member?" Hugo said, blinking several times in surprise. "Doesn’t that create a conflict with the other guilds that he’s not a member of?"

"He has other ways of currying favor with the guilds, bowing and scraping before those spineles vultures," Owain said. "Until recently, he actually planned to marry my, my sister-in-law Jocelynn to the son of one of those feckless ’masters,’" he said, barely catching himself from calling her ’my Jocelynn.’

Unlike the murdered Sir Broll and the traitorous Sir Tommin, neither Rian nor Hugo were aware that the ’Ashlynn’ at the summer villa was an imposter and he saw no reason to tell them the truth.

As far as he was concerned, too many people already knew, it felt like it was inevitable that it would get out some day.

That wasn’t a problem in the long run, as long as he married Jocelynn and inherited his father’s throne then the truth might hurt him but it couldn’t topple him. Until then, however, he had no intention of sharing his secrets with his newest confidants.

"You know what," Owain said after his thoughts turned to Jocelynn and her perfect proportions and sparkling seafoam eyes. "Stop the carriage!" Owain shouted, banging on the walls of the carriage to catch the driver’s attention.

"Hugo, get out," the young lord continued, shocking his steward with the intensity of his gaze. "Go find me a woman. Make arrangements and come fetch me when everything is prepared."

"My lord," Hugo said, frowning at Owain. "Your only just married and your wife has yet to give birth to your child. If she’s carrying a boy, it’s all well and good, but if she’s carrying a girl and you accidentally leave behind a child in this place, it could threaten your succession," he warned.

Hugo was all too familiar with the fate of bastards.

If his own older brother hadn’t suffered a frightening injury falling from his horse, he might never have been recalled from his studies to the Hanrahan Barony.

His father had treated him as a ’back up heir’ in case his half brother never recovered from his fall.

A year later, however, when his brother was once again fit to ride and fight, Hugo’s existence had become an inconvenient reality that threatened his brother’s status.

Owain’s sudden need of a steward gave Baron Hanrahan the perfect method of securing a title for Hugo and in doing so, making it clear that he wouldn’t contest for the title of Baron when the time came.

But now, as Hugo looked at Owain’s burning gaze, he worried that his lord was about to commit the same sort of mistake that his own father had and the consequences could haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Do you think I’m an idiot?" Owain said coldly. "This is Blackwell City, home of one of the three greatest ports in the kingdom. Do you think that in a town with this many sailors there aren’t professionals to tend to a man’s needs?"

"Go hire me a woman, a professional will know how to prevent herself from conceiving," Owain said as though he were explaining things to a child. "And Hugo," he added after a moment of thought. "I like blondes. There shouldn’t be a shortage in Blackwell City."

"Damn, brat," Sir Rian said, slapping a hand on Hugo’s back with enough force to knock the wind out of the slender steward. "Don’t tell me you’ve never bought yourself a night with a woman when you were lonely. You’re not the charming sort who never has to pay for it."

"I don’t..." Hugo started, only for Rian to grab him by the tunic and pull him out of the carriage as the portly knight stepped out. "Lord Owain, I could use a good wench myself. I’ll teach the boy what needs to be done, be sure of it, and I’ll send him back to fetch you when things are arranged."

"And you, boy," Rian said, poking the young man in the chest. "Tonight, it seems like we need to make a man out of you. Don’t hold your purse strings tight," he added in a low voice.

"I hear these Blackwell women can rock a man with the rhythm of the waves and they’ll sweap you away to the Heavenly Shores with the way they move their hips. "

"Just get it done," Owain said. "And be discrete," he added before slamming the door shut and pounding on the walls of the carriage for the driver to continue.

It was times like this that he missed Kaefin the most. Kaefin hadn’t just been his steward, the man had been like his older brother.

He even took a much younger Owain to his first brothel more than ten years ago so that his ’little brother’ wouldn’t suffer from an inexperienced partner for his first time.

Now, as the carriage rolled away, he wondered if Sir Rian even understood him well enough to know what he wanted when he sent the man to find him a blond. What he wanted right now was someone like Jocelynn, with a figure that was well balanced, who smelled of the sea and had eyes he could drown in.

It was impossible for a common woman to possess even a fraction of Jocelynn’s refinement and elegance, but as long as her features were pleasant and her body was supple, he could lose himself in the illusion for a while and let go of the stress that had built up in his body after meeting with those conniving merchants.

He was afraid, however, that Rian would mistake his desires and search out a buxom woman who could rival Ashlynn’s endowments.

The last thing he wanted right now was a reminder of the witch who had derailed his perfect life.

If not for her, there would have been no need to hide away an imposter at the summer villa and Sir Kaefin would never have fallen on that demon woman, Lynnda’s knife.

So many things wouldn’t have gone wrong if he hadn’t nearly been tricked into lying with a witch.

But then, as he considered the possibility that Rian would find a woman who resembled Ashlynn, a dark smile began to form on Owain’s lips. If they found a woman like Jocelynn, then he would relax and let go of his pent-up desires as he waited for the day he could truly make her his own.

And if they found a woman who resembled Ashlynn? He’d never had a chance to sample her charms, though Samira came close. But out here, in Blackwell City, with a prostitute that no one would care about, who wasn’t needed for his plans to conceal Ashlynn’s death...

Owain’s hand curled into a tight fist as visions of an evening’s pleasures danced through his mind. There were limits to what he could do with Samira, but here... he could vent out more than just his lust if they found him a woman who resembled Ashlynn....