“My father Lord Durando of Allys, wishes to congratulate Lord Salamar on the engagement of his son,” Tyrell beamed, as if he was sincerely overcome with joy.
Lia handed Tyrell the bottle of wine they had purchased on the docks before boarding the ship so the former could present it.
The doorman took the bottle without moving a muscle of his face and said, “This way.”
He had them sit in the parlor and wait while he went to consult Lord Salamar about the surprise guests.
“If anything at all makes you uncomfortable . . .” Tyrell whispered to Lia.
Lia rolled her eyes. “I promise I’ll come straight back.”
The plan thus far was very simple—get in and look around to locate this mysterious forbidden wing so they could bring Tavia there later. For the “Getting in” part Tyrell intended to use hislordly charms and hoped to distract the Salamars long enough for Lia to slip away and explore.
The doorman had hardly stepped out of the parlor when a bouncy round nobleman flew in, arms open smiling.
“LITTLE TYR!” he boomed.
Lia and Tyrell both jumped in alarm. Was this . . . could it possibly be . . .HOW WAS THIS ROSEY CHEEKED BUNDLE OF JOY JULIAN’S FATHER?
“Why the last time I saw you, you were,” the old Lord leaned down and held his hand knee-high. “How kind of your father to send you! Is he doing well?”
Tyrell plastered on a grin that did not blind Lia to the terror in his eyes. At least the doorman matched Julian’s aesthetic somewhat.
Just when Lia was recovering from the shock of the kindness tidalwave, another voice rang from the hallway.
“Did I hear right?”came a sweet, grandmotherly voice. “Little Tyr-tyr is here?”
A beaming round woman who was clearly the other half of the set of nobles charged in and took Tyrell by the shoulders.
“Oh, let me look at you! Let me see you!” she fussed. “You’ve certainly gotten handsome!”
Before Tyrell had time to say anything, Lady Salamar was waving down a maid in the hall.
“Bring us some tea, cakes too please,” she cried. “And—”
Her gaze suddenly fell on Lia.
“Why Tyr!” she gasped. “I didn’t realize you were married!”
“Oh . . . she’s not—” Tyrell started but Lady Salamar was already clasping Lia’s hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, dear! I must hear all about it! All about it!”
“Delighted, my lady,” Lia said with a deep curtsey. “I would love to tell you anything, but first, is there someplace I can freshen up?”
“Oh, how rude of me!” the lady rebuked herself. “Of course, Martha will show you. MARTHA!”
A plump bubbly maid practically skipped into the room, and at Lady Salamar’s direction, took Lia away down the hall.
Lia did not freshen up.The moment the maid left her, she slipped back out into the halls with a few simple objectives in her mind. First, was to scope out the property and see if she could find Julian’s forbidden wing. Then, she needed to figure out where Tavia was staying, and finally, she wanted to locate entrances and exits in case they needed to sneak back in to confront her later.
Passing through the lower rooms made this manor look like that of any other noble in Allys.
Suddenly, Lia became aware of voices somewhere off to her right. She did what anyone might do while trying to avoid detection in a house of nobility—slipped behind a tapestry and hoped the speakers wouldn’t notice her feet sticking out. Even from behind, Lia could make out the beautiful sea-themed art stitched onto the hanging fabric. The Salamar’s definitely had a passion for the sea.
“Yes, the ebony set.”
Lia’s heart raced as she recognized Tavia’s voice.
