Page 45

He tensed, looking toward the guarded gate, but then smiled wide, showcasing his missing tooth. “It’s just Mr. Duval.”

My brow rose. “Who is Mr. Duval?”

“My father’s sanguine partner.”

I didn’t know this man, and I lamented my lack of magick. “Why would your father’s sanguine partner be coming here?”

Adrien frowned. “Because I don’t listen.”

“You listen just fine.”

“Everyone says I don’t.”

“What does not listening have to do with Mr. Duval?”

Adrien kicked at a patch of pebbles. “When I don’t listen, the nannies leave, and Mr. Duval has to feed me.”

The garden gate swung open, and a rather striking man appeared between the gap in the hedges. He was tall and broad, with ochre skin and a top hat covering a shaved head. He set his hands on his hips when he saw the two of us sitting in the grass beside the pond.

“I thought I might find you out here, Master Adrien,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

Adrien shook his head.

Mr. Duval grinned, his attention sliding to me. “When I am sitting with a beautiful woman, I often forget to eat as well.”

“Why does everyone think she’s pretty?” Adrien said defensively. “She’s just my friend.”

Likely because I was a descendant of Gorrath, I thought to myself. That’s where our beauty came from, Gran always said.

Mr. Duval raised his hands. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Master Adrien.”

He sauntered closer, and I stood to greet him. “Abize Duval,” he said, extending his hand. “And who might you be?”

I avoided answering his question. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Duval.”

While I wasn’t keen to reveal more about myself to anyone here, I saw Mr. Duval’s presence as an opportunity to learn more about life at Château du Mer and being a blood partner. Not that I was considering staying just yet, but for Della’s sake, I decided it was good to collect more information.

“Adrien, why don’t you go inside the cottage and see if Della is awake?”

He popped to his feet. But before taking off, he turned back to Mr. Duval. “Her fingers are bleeding. You should help her with that.”

And then the little snitch raced off, leaving me standing there with Mr. Duval.

“I tripped over a loose stone, that's all,” I said.

He looked at me. I looked at the pond.

I didn’t think he believed me any more than Adrien had. Mr. Duval strolled to one of the garden beds by the gate and returned with a few feathery sprigs of yarrow. He gestured to one of the large rocks that framed the pond, and we sat across from each other while he crushed the yarrow leaves between his fingers.

“You’ve caused quite a stir around here, you know,” he said. “Half of Old Town saw Valemer sprint into the harbor after you.”

My cheeks heated. “I wasn’t trying to cause a stir. If anything, I wanted to go unnoticed. But now…”

Too many had noticed me. And not just Yves and the gossipers. But the Dark Witches he went to arrest.

“Now that you have been noticed,” Mr. Duval hedged, pressing the crushed leaves gently onto my fingers, “what are you going to do about it?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.