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“It does not.” He paused, his gaze returning to the woman on the stage. “Her name is Karlinda Stone.”
Undoubtedly either Jonas or Nuri could tell me more about her—and, more particularly, if she had any siblings or not.
Charles walked onto the stage and was again introduced. He knelt in front of Karlinda, head bowed, as she proceeded to list the names of all those who'd held the position before him. I shifted slightly in my seat, my gaze searching the crowd, looking for a replica of the woman on the stage.
“Are you bored, Lady Catherine?”
I took a sip of champagne and then glanced at him. “Would you be offended if I said yes?”
He smiled. “No, indeed, as I suffer the same infliction. Tell me, what is it that you do?”
“I'm between positions at the moment, I'm afraid.”
“But when you do work?”
I hesitated. “I'm a sexual massage therapist.”
His laugh was soft, but it nevertheless ran across the silence. The woman on the stage glanced our way and frowned. As did Charles.
“I do not think your lady approves of such outbursts,” I murmured.
“She doesn't approve of much at all. Her family are fundamentalists; in fact, it would be extremely amusing to introduce you to them.”
I raised an eyebrow, even as my heart raced that little bit faster. An introduction was exactly what I wanted; if nothing else, it would be the quickest and easiest way to uncover if Dream really was impersonating someone from Karlinda's family. “And why would you wish to vex them so if you know beforehand they would not approve of my profession?”
“Because I do not approve of fundamentalists.”
“And yet you have a relationship with one.”
His smile flashed, but there was cold amusement in his eyes and perhaps even a touch of disdain. Not for me, but rather for Karlinda. “Because, as I said, it suits us both.”
A statement that made me wonder what—given Julius's bisexuality and preferences for young men—she was getting out of the situation. I didn't know much of anything about the fundamentalist movement, but the very nature of the word suggested a belief system that went back to basics—and surely that also meant sex. It was doubtful she'd be into leash and rope play—unless, of course, that was what he meant by a beneficial relationship. Perhaps their relationship was a cover for darker desires.
I watched the ceremony for several more—exceedingly long—minutes, and then switched my gaze to the two guards standing on either side of Charles and the chancellor. Both were armed and watchful, their gazes constantly roaming the room, looking for any sign of trouble or danger. Yet there was something about the man closest to Karlinda that stirred my instincts, though I had no idea why. And if said instincts had any idea, they were frustratingly mute.
Movement caught my eye and I glanced around to see Branna step into view. He paused, his gaze sweeping first the people immediately around him and then the seating area. I took a sip of champagne and schooled my features into an expression of bored disdain. His gaze went right past me, then recognition stirred and he looked back. Not at me. At Julius.
He began to make his way toward us.
Which suggested he knew Julius. But did that, in turn, mean the man sitting so elegantly by my side was the reason for the kill order? And that he was working with Dream?
How else would someone like Branna—who was, for all intents and purposes, an outcast, and as such would never have been invited into middle society let alone the upper echelon—come to be in a place like this?
He walked up the steps and strode toward us, every movement vibrating with the anger I'd so often sensed in him. It was an anger that had come from the war, a fury that stemmed from the loss of everyone he cared about, and one that had become so inflamed the minute he'd learned I was déchet that it seemed he’d been claimed by an unreasoning form of insanity.
He stopped in front of Julius and knelt down. He didn't even glance at me, though his closeness had my skin twitching. “Forgive the intrusion, my lord, but I was wondering if you know where Hedda Lang might be. She was supposed to meet me here, but I cannot find her.”
Julius sniffed—a disdainful sound if ever I'd heard one. “I have no idea where that woman is, nor do I care. And you are in my line of sight, young man.”
Branna made a low sound that rather reminded me of a growl, but did nothing more than nod and move away.
I watched him for several seconds and then glanced at Julius. “Such impertinence.”
“Indeed,” he drawled. “But the fault is not his but rather Hedda's. She should not have given him clearance to come to this event.”
My stomach clenched, even if my expression remained cool and calm. “So you do know him?”
“Not really.” He shrugged. “I merely dealt with the formalities finalizing the contract he accepted.”
