Page 79 of A Divided Duty

Several seconds passed before Cass wrenched the door open, hair in disarray, lynx-tipped ears half-flattened against her head. It was surprisingly feline of her, given that whatever her descendant line was going to be, it didn’t seem to be remotely related to the Cait Sidhe. She was wearing a purple silk gown, tied shut at the waist and hanging off one shoulder like she’d just jerked it on—which, given her general dishabille, was probably what had happened.

“Aunt Birdie?” she asked.

“That would be me,” I said. “Can we come in, or is Walther indecent?”

“How did you know I was here?” called Walther, hidden by the shape of the door and Cassandra blocking the room with her body.

“Because I know my niece, and she wouldn’t be cheating on you with one of the stableboys,” I said.

Cass laughed, looking over her shoulder and then back to me. “He’s decent,” she reported. “Come on in.”

She stepped aside, and I moved into her quarters, closely followed by Chelsea.

Like most noble knowes, Muir Woods provided its permanent residents with multiple rooms, generally branching off a single center parlor. In Cassie’s case, that parlor looked like it had been swiped from a hunting lodge. The floor was dark maple, polished and uncarpeted, and the walls were papered in a lovely deep purple, highlights picked out with gold. If I looked closely, I could see that it was a pattern of blackberries hanging clustered on the vine, ripe and ready to be picked. There were two fireplaces, both of them crackling merrily away, but the room wasn’t overly warm. Two doors opened onto hallways leading deeper into her suite of rooms, and there was a single large cathedral-style window, showing a moonlit slice of the grounds through a frame that dripped with purple and green glass blackberries.

Walther was sitting on a loveseat near the fire, wearing a pair of sweatpants, a mortified expression, and nothing else, not even his glasses. He looked at me defiantly, one eyebrow raised. “To what do we owe the distinctly unannounced pleasure, Sir Daye?” he asked.

“Uh,” said Chelsea.

“Yes?” I asked.

“There is a half-naked man over there, and the queen’s chatelaine is wearing a bathrobe,” she said. “I don’t think we should be here.”

“Ah, the wisdom of the young,” said Walther.

“You, shush,” I said. “Chelsea, before Cassandra was the Chatelaine, she was my niece, and as far as I’m concerned, that position still comes first. She’s wearing a day robe, not a bathrobe; you can tell by the way it’s not made of anything absorbent, but is too thick to be a negligee. The half-naked man is her boyfriend, Walther Davies, who I know you’ve met before.”

“He had clothes on at the time,” objected Chelsea.

I gave her a hard look. “You’re a guest here. If our host’s boyfriend wants to be topless, you need to politely pretend he isn’t. Emperor’s New Clothes the awkwardness away.”

“But—”

“No.” I turned to Cassandra, who was watching us with amusement. “Sorry. She’s still new enough to be shocked.”

“That’s Sir Etienne’s kid, yeah?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“She’s actually less sheltered than I’d expect, after everything you’ve told me about her situation. What can I do for you?”

“Why do you assume I need something?”

“It’s the middle of the day and you’re here with a random member of your Urchin Squad. Of course you need something. That, and Karen told me to expect you sometime in the next day. She didn’t know exactly why, only that it was going to be urgent when you finally showed up, and it was going to be related to Blind Michael in some way.” Her face hardened. “He’s not back, is he?”

“No, thankfully. None of our enemies can actually raise the dead so far as I know, and he’s definitely dead. I put him in the ground myself. You don’t need to worry about him.”

“Then what’s going on?”

I glanced to Walther. He was an ally, and had been for a long time. I knew I could trust him. I just had to reassure myself that he was okay with this.

His look of mild annoyance had faded, replaced by a much-more-customary expression of concern. Whatever I had to say, he was ready to hear it. That was a good thing. I returned my attention to Cassie.

“Has Arden told you what happened with Raysel?” I asked.

She frowned. “She told me Raysel had left unexpectedly, and you’d gone after her. I assumed she was dealing with a panic attack.”

“You’re not entirely wrong about that, but for ‘panic attack,’ insert ‘parental kidnapping.’ Knowing Raysel, she’s having a panic attack by now, and it’s not likely to end until we get her home. Her own mother snatched her after the queen found in my favor, and she’s been taken a second time, by some of Blind Michael’s Riders.”