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Instead of answering, Neill looks behind me. So I turn, my heart thumping with the hope that Vanni might be behind me. But I groan as soon as I see the man making his way toward me.

“Father Beald.”

“A woman alone in an establishment such as this would be heartily frowned upon in many places,” he comments, giving me a look full of judgment.

I glance around for Neill, but I’m not the only one who dislikes the Elderman. He’s nowhere to be seen. I’ve been left to ward off the Elderman myself.

“Much like a man of God who preaches love and spews hate.”

I’ve attempted in the past to garner the man’s favor despite his obvious dislike for me, but no honeyed words can overcome blind hatred. I had long ago stopped trying.

His smirk makes my blood run cold.

“You’ve left Murwood End to learn the truth of your words?”

I’ve not. And he knows it well.

Leaning toward me, he whispers for my ears alone. “I’ve visited your grandmother. The great Lady Edrys did not appear very well. Such a shame. So few Garra remain. I shouldn’t be surprised if there’s one less one day soon.”

Tensing, I do not even attempt to hide the anger that courses through me.

“You are an evil man.”

He does not seem the least bit bothered by my words.

“The only evil here, Lady Aedre, is a brazen woman who preaches pleasure. Who caters to the devil’s whims, flaunting herself as if proud. And proud of what? You are less than nothing.”

I want to flee. To rid myself of his presence. But I can’t allow him that victory. So I turn back to my ale as if his words do not make me want to toss the contents of my mug in his face.

After a moment, no longer able to feel his cloying presence next to me, I glance over my shoulder, wholly unprepared to see Vanni standing between us.

He says something to the Elderman, who, with one final glare back at me, turns to leave. It comes as little surprise when Vanni follows him out.

Attempting to steady my hands, which are still shaking, I take a drink. And another. Only when a second ale is placed in front of me, Neill apologizing for leaving when he sees my face, does Vanni return. He does not say a word but rather nods to the table where we sat several days earlier, one affording more privacy.

“That will be the last time Father Beald speaks to you again.”

I’m not prepared for the controlled anger that simmers beneath the surface of his words. But then, neither am I prepared for another conversation with the man I’ve thought about nearly every moment since leaving that cave.

Vanni sits and leans forward across the table.

“Tell me what he said to you.”