The Mage—a burly older man with a large beard and deep-brown hair—shot me a look of disdain with his beady brown eyes before backing up a step. He towered over me—even though I was not a short person—and it was easy to tell that he used his size to intimidate. I crossed my arms and raised my chin, steeling myself and refusing to let him bully me.
Arrogant.
“Lord d’Refan is requesting your presence in his study immediately,” he growled, and my shoulders sagged slightly.
“Please inform him that I will be down shortly. I have things I have to do first,” I said with as much confidence as I could muster.
Things like napping. Andmaybecracking open that journal from the Librarian again. . .
The bear in front of me curled his lip in a very unattractive way. I could see his yellowed teeth and barely suppressed a shudder.
“Lord d’Refan,” he reiterated with a sneer, “demands your presence. It wasn’t a request,Rune Master,” he spat with unconfined vitriol.
How many times have I told them not to call me that?Though judging by his tone, this one definitely meant it as a slight.
I sighed, my shoulders slumping, before I turned and locked my door, completely aware that I was not getting out of this meeting.
“Fine. Lead the way,” I said tiredly, the headache from this morning pounding in earnest behind my eyes.
Chapter 23
Faylinn
The Mage rapped twice on Lord d’Refan’s study door before stepping back and snapping to attention.
I rolled my eyes with a quiet scoff.
Just because the man thought himself a king didn’t make him any better than the rest of us. In fact, it only placed further responsibilities on his shoulders—responsibilities I wasn’t confident he could fulfill.
It was no secret that Ellowyn d’Aelius—d’Refan, now—was disgruntled. She was rarely seen with her husband and, when they were together, was cold and aloof, a far cry from the meek, scared girl I met in Hestin.
If he can barely keep his wife happy, how was he going to be able to do that for an entire realm?
“Enter,” Lord d’Refan’s voice called from inside the office. The Mage opened the door just as I heard the deep, smooth rasp of another voice inside. The familiarity of his whiskey-smoothness caused my muscles to seize as the Mage gestured me inside.
I stood, frozen, as the door opened wider, revealing Lord d’Refan’s study. It was a large, rather ostentatious space withtall windows on the far wall, letting the late afternoon light stream inside to illuminate the ornate red rug covering the stone floor. There was an oversized stone fireplace to the right, a fire crackling merrily in the hearth. Bookcases covered the walls—some shelves filled with books, others with priceless trinkets—and I subconsciously shuddered at the open-grate fireplace lit next to such flammable materials.
But what drew my eye wasn’t the well-decorated space or the countless tomes full of knowledge.
Instead, I was intently focused on the man sitting in an armchair nearest the fire. He still wore his black uniform with the two gold bars on each shoulder, while supple black leather boots covered his feet and calves. His hand curved sensuously around a clear glass tumbler of whiskey as he slowly swirled the amber liquid. My gaze trailed up his taught forearm to his chest and up further still to the close-cropped beard that adorned his strong jaw.
That’s new.
My perusal continued further, past his full lips and strong nose. I skipped his eyes, taking in the dark hair longer from his time away. It was still short, but now long enough to run your fingers through. There was a texture to it, a slight wave that I itched to touch.
His eyes were still the most arresting green, deep like a forest as it turns to spring, and they were glued on me.
I gulped under his intense scrutiny.
General Rohak d’Alvey.
I was undeniably and indescribably pulled to him—both in mind and body. But the man hated me after I forcibly Bonded Ben and Asha without Ben’s consent—an action that went directly against what Rohak believed to be right and true. Something he had confessed to me only hours before I forced Ben into the Bond.
He had every reason to distrust me.
I swallowed audibly before the Mage at my back huffed in annoyance and pushed me into the room. My bare feet left the cold stone of the hallway and made contact with the plush rug, which gave me a chance to break the intense eye contact with Rohak as I focused on the fibers beneath my bare toes.
“Soft,” I mumbled as I wiggled my toes.
