Page 51 of Whisper of Nightmares

“Lady Kelda, I heard of your arrival yestereve. I trust you are well rested after your long journey.” It’s at that moment his eyes seem to snag on Euphemia. “Oh. My apologies. I did not realize you were entertaining a guest. Should I come back at a better time?”

His hands wring nervously around a rolled piece of parchment.

“No need, Percival.” Kelda doesn’t bother looking at him. “This one lives here now.”

“Does she?” Percival balks, something dark simmering behind his stone eyes. He blinks and replaces it with something more proper and inviting. “Well, then, it is my honor to welcome you to Thorfell Crag, Lady…”

“Euphemia.” Kelda supplies her name before Euphemia can.

Percival nods and waits, as if he’s expecting more. Truthfully, Euphemia is surprised by the brief introduction as well. She had expected Kelda to call her Dagfinn’s bride, or to refer to her as her new daughter-in-law.

Then again, their wedding had been rushed and odd, to say the least.

Perhaps Kelda plans to announce them more formally at a more opportune time.

Since Euphemia cannot read the woman’s mind, she keeps her mouth closed and merely smiles.

Percival clears his throat, turning his attention back to Kelda. “How is Lord Dagfinn fairing? Any improvement?”

“Not yet,” Kelda says over the rim of her mug.

The flagon is empty though, and Asvald strides across the room, boots echoing, and refills it. The grateful glance she sends him after makes Euphemia’s stomach tighten as if she should not have witnessed such a glance.

Asvald seems to notice it too, and he shifts uncomfortably where he stands. “And did you discover anything more about what ails him during your travels?”

“I did not.”

Percival’s face drops with exaggerated remorse. “I am so terribly sorry to hear it.”

Only Euphemia can see Kelda’s eyebrows bob as if to suggest she doubts that, which only increases Euphemia’s fascination with this man. Who is he? Someone clearly important enough to demand an audience with Kelda the day after she returns, but it’s obvious from Kelda’s blatant disregard of him that she’d rather him not be here at all.

The great hall quiets and only the sound of Kelda’s fork scraping her plate fills the air.

Beside her, Percival’s fidget with the documents in his hand again.

“You are as subtle as a ship on the horizon on a clear day.” Kelda hunches over her food and nods toward the parchment. “What have you brought me?”

Trepidation flashes behind Percival’s eyes. But he clears his throat like someone who’s been preparing for this moment his entire life. He hands her the scroll.

“More estate paperwork?” Kelda’s eyebrow lifts as she unwinds the parchment. “I thought we already completed this after Otho’s death.”

“We did. Rest assured, the deed to Thorfell Manor is almost entirely settled. We merely await Dagfinn’s signature.” Percival reaches up to his throat and adjusts the high collar of his dark, finely embroidered robe. His hair is slicked nearly away from his face, not a strand out of place, as though he spent a considerable amount of time making himself look respectable, just for this moment. “This is not that deed though. This is something else I had hoped you might look over.”

Kelda’s eyes rove over the document.

The rest of the room waits on a knife’s edge.

Euphemia can feel herself trying to peer over the top of the parchment, even though it would be impossible to read from this angle. Asvald inches closer too, though his gaze seers into the side of Percival’s face.

Percival’s eyes flick briefly over him, noticeably tracing over the tattoos carved across Asvald’s face and wrapping around his skull. His mouth tightens before he returns his attention to Kelda.

Kelda starts muttering, reading random lines from the document aloud, “A yearly allowance of forty shillings…use of the Ironwycke house and garden…income from the northern meadow…marriage to be sanctified before the spring equinox⁠—”

The air in the great hall becomes caustic.

Asvald’s fists tighten as Kelda tears her gaze away to glare up at Percival. She shakes the document at him. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Why, I’d like to think of it as the start of a prosperous union.” He actually has the gall to look surprised by her outrage.