I looked down, trying my best to steady my shaking hands. Corvin stepped out of the carriage first, offering me his hand. I took it, feeling much calmer the moment our fingers intertwined. We stared at one another for a heartbeat, eyes filled with the same steely resolve…and with the same growing affection? We didn’t speak, but with a gentle squeeze of my hand, Corvin said it all nonetheless—we’re in this together. The heel of my silver sandals clacked against the cobblestone road as we walked toward the manor’s entrance, hand in hand.
Approaching the belly of the beast.
The butler greeted us with a stiff bow, a consummate professional. “Rogam welcomes you to his latest evening soirée. The dining hall is straight back and off to the left—the staff will guide you.” His next words were directed toward Corvin. “May I take your coat, sir?” Corvin pulled his feathered cloak tighter against himself. “I’m finding the coastal air to be rather cold. I’d rather keep it on.” The butler nodded politely. “Of course. Please feel free to head inside.” He didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow at Corvin’s decision.Not surprising given who employs him.He was probably paid a handsome sum to ignore the unusual, to never ask a follow-up question or scrutinize the goings-on around the manor too closely.
Sure enough, as we stepped inside, another member of Rogam’s staff materialized at the door, beckoning us onward. We followed the serving woman down the hall, bypassing the foyer’s stunning double staircase, composed of two symmetrical sets of steps on the left and right side of the room, winding upto the floor above. Entirely excessive since they both ultimately led to the same destination. The hallway was lined with various artifacts and idiosyncrasies, all contained within glass display cases. A calculated move, no doubt, since the purpose of Rogam’s dinner parties was to entice his guests into making a purchase.
I had no idea why he even bothered. Surely, he already possessed everything money could buy.
My heart clenched painfully, thinking about Eterna, imprisoned somewhere within the manor. For all his wealth, I failed to believe even Rogam would be audacious enough to display her publicly. She was likely being kept inside some cold, unforgiving dungeon below. Still, I listened for a phoenix’s melodic call each time we passed by another closed door. Could she be in that one? Or that one? Locked away just beyond our reach?
The hallway curved to the left, and we were ushered into a large dining room.
A long mahogany table filled the entire width of the room, already laden with a spectacular array of food. Corvin need not have worried about Rogam serving me mushrooms, because there were a multitude of dishes to choose from. A meal plentiful enough to cater to every possible taste. An ornate crystal chandelier hung above the table. Likewise, the dishware and goblets at each place setting were made from delicately crafted crystal. My mouth started to water as the delicious aroma of freshly cooked food wafted toward me.
I surveyed Rogam’s other guests; evidently, we were among the last to arrive. Would Rogam turn away anyone else, now that each chair was accounted for, or was this simply one of several dining rooms he had prepared for a dinner party which required no official invitation? Six people sat around the sides of the tablealready. A few servants stood pressed against the walls as well, strategically placed around the room, clutching carafes of wine.
I spotted the couple from earlier, plates heaped to the brim with food. The woman summoned one of the servants, demanding they fill her goblet. A man sat at the far end of the table, hood pulled down over his face, not eating. His disinterest in the food made a sharp contrast to the gentleman closest to the door, who was digging into his plate with gusto. “I’m Rogam’s neighbor. Or as close as he’s got to one! His estate spans quite the acreage, you know. I just come for the food!” he told the young couple. He laughed jovially to himself, piling yet another dish onto his plate as soon as the staff placed it on the table.
One of the guests was dressed rather simply, more like a maid than a noblewoman. Her choice of seatmate made her plain attire all the more obvious, because he was dressed in a white-and-gold embroidered smock. Royal colors. Possibly employed by Queen Elasha in some capacity. A curious collection of people. Each one contradicting the last. Then again, I expected nothing less from such an affair. The serving woman didn’t formally announce our arrival. Nor did anyone ask our names as we claimed the remaining seats.
It wasn’t that kind of party.
The dining room doors were left open. There was another open room visible, located across the hallway from us. I stole a quick glance to my right, peering past its doorway. It appeared to be a study—tall bookshelves lined the walls. A selection of comfortable-looking chairs was positioned near a roaring fireplace at the forefront of the room, though I couldn’t see far into its depths from my current vantage point.
I turned my attention back to the food in front of me, reaching toward the nearest serving dish, spooning a generous portion of some mixed vegetables slathered in a rich, creamy sauce onto one side of my plate. I watched the woman acrossfrom me, taking mental notes so I could mimic her demeanor. Like the slightly haughty tilt to her chin. I wasn’t particularly thirsty, but I beckoned one of the staff to fill my goblet all the same, crooking my finger using the same entitled gesture. Someone rushed to comply with my request. I took a long sip of wine, hiding a grimace when its bitter flavor hit my taste buds, which were largely unaccustomed to drinking alcohol. It took some effort, but I managed not to let my aversion to the drink show too much.
Corvin sat to my left, engaged in pleasant small talk with his seatmate. Curious, I eavesdropped on their conversation. The plainly dressed woman leaned over, cheerfully confiding in Corvin, “Lady Farnwick is incredibly generous. She sends me to buy a new casket of wine from Rogam, all so I can partake in the meal. I absolutely adore the roast lamb he serves.”
Feeling much too cautious to try and break into the conversation, I ate in silence, wary of making a potential misstep. I’d only eaten a few bites when a tall man filled the doorway, placing his hands on the seat at the head of the table.
Our host in the flesh—Rogam Vunzaver. He was a handsome man, his skin a deep russet-brown, with medium-length white hair and a nicely trimmed goatee. It wasn’t too surprising he dyed his hair white, despite being middle-aged, given the color’s association with the Kothian noble class. A sign of respectability. An homage to the banshee warriors. I imagined a veneer of respectability was particularly important to men like Rogam. Men with something to hide.
Still standing, he reached for a glass, waiting for his staff to fill it with wine. Once filled, he raised it high in the air. “Welcome! A toast. To a profitable evening. I look forward to talking with each and every one of you.May our daughters rise again!” He finished with a common Kothian blessing. I rushed to raise my glass, joining in the toast. The hooded man at theback of the room made no move to participate. Rogam pulled out his chair, taking a seat as everyone ceremoniously sipped their drinks.
Rather than shrink away from his presence, I forced myself to emulate the casual indifference of the other guests. Nobody else seemed the slightest bit concerned. Either they didn’t realize they were sitting across from a dangerous man, or they didn’t care. I took another bite of food, suddenly aware of Rogam’s eyes boring into me. I looked up, plastering what I hoped was a bland smile onto my face.
His eyes dipped to my chest. “Your necklace is quite striking. And your gorgeous green eyes. Green is the rarest eye color—did you know? At least, for those of us who aren’t channeling our ancestors.” He chuckled to himself, referencing the banshee warrior’s glowing green eyes. I wilted under the weight of his shameless inspection. He pursed his lips in a thin line, picking up on my discomfort. “Forgive my impudence. I find I simply must comment when beautiful, rare things are in my presence. It’s a compulsion. Not all bad, of course.” He waved a hand lazily around the room as if to say that very predilection was the driving force behind his substantial wealth.
“Of course. No harm done. You flatter me.” I played with my hair, pretending to enjoy the attention. Even if there was something a little too calculated, a little too shrewd, in his gaze for me to actually feel at ease conversing with him.
A protective arm came to rest around my shoulder.
Rogam’s eyes flicked to Corvin, then back to me. “You make a lovely couple. Married?”
“Soon to be engaged,” I said, infusing my voice with a hefty dose of excitement.
“Congratulations to you both.” Rogam scrutinized us again. “Where are you from?”
“We traveled from Tardide,” I answered. A vague response, but also a true one.
“Here for a ring perhaps?” he asked, staring intently at my bare finger.
I flexed my right hand anxiously against my thigh, glad it was concealed under the table. I didn’t want Rogam’s scrutiny to land on the flame ring around my thumb, scared he might recognize it for what it was and the powers it contained.
“She’ll be given my grandmother’s ring,” Corvin interjected smoothly. “I dare say if we were only after a ring, we’d be at a jeweler’s right now instead of guests at your dinner table. We’re hoping you can offer us something of even greater value.”
A roguish smile took up residence on Rogam’s face. “There are artifacts in this manor more valuable than you can even fathom.” He drained the rest of his goblet. “But I must beg your pardon once more. Enough talk of business. We shall resume our conversation in my study after dinner. Allow me to make a recommendation while you remain in Kincardine. You must make time to visit the Kalypise Gardens. Have you been before? The perfect activity for a young couple in love.”
