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“Are you okay?” Erik asks, taking my shoulder. When I don’t respond, he pulls me into a hug and I let him. I count his heartbeats, trying to breathe in rhythm with him, but his heart is racing too fast to calm me.
He takes me to my room and pulls a dress from the wardrobe. I look down and realize mine is torn. It flaps at the shoulder, ripped in the attack. I reach for my zipper and start to pull off the damaged gown. As I do, Erik throws his hands over his eyes.
“Sorry,” he says, his voice muffled by his hand.
“Are you covering your eyes?” I ask in disbelief. The gesture surprises me.
“I’m being a gentleman,” he says, still looking away.
“That would be a real first,” I tell him as I slip the dress over my head.
“I guess I’m a changed man,” he teases.
“You can turn around now,” I say after I’m sure that I’m completely covered.
When he does, I can’t help but notice that his cheeks are a little pink.
“Zip me up?” I ask. My hands are still shaking too hard to manage the last bit of zipper on the back of the dress. I pull my hair up and Erik tugs at the slider in a slow, gentle motion, one hand on the small of my back.
“What’s going on?” Jost asks, coming into the room. I pull away from Erik and fall into Jost’s arms while his brother explains what’s happened. Jost’s eyes travel between our faces, growing darker until they flame with anger. He jerks away from me and heads down the hall, forcing Erik and me to follow after him.
“Where are you going?” I call, but he doesn’t respond so I sprint to keep up with him.
“I’m going to have a little chat with Kincaid about his men,” Jost says through gritted teeth.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” I murmur. “We’re his guests—”
Jost cuts me off. “And one of his guests was attacked. He needs a lesson in hospitality.” He whirls to face us, but I can’t think of anything to say that will stop him now that he’s reached this point.
“You don’t think he’s going to do something about this on his own?” Erik points out. “I doubt Kincaid will be happy to hear this has happened.”
“I think Kincaid is the one who sent him,” Jost says.
“Why? What purpose would that serve?”
“Everything serves a purpose,” Jost responds. “We can’t trust him. Do I have to remind you that he was Guild? The only thing we can trust is that he knows how to lie.”
“Maybe we should get Dante,” I suggest quietly, trying to draw down the volume of Jost’s voice so we aren’t over
heard.
Before we can talk Jost out of it, he’s bounded down the stairs to the main floor of the house. It doesn’t take long for us to hear the shrieking castigations coming from the assembly room.
“Yes, sir,” a guard says.
“This is poor form. What will my guests think?” Kincaid squeaks.
“He’s prepared to make amends for his … mistake,” the guard says.
“Oh, amends will be made,” Kincaid says.
For a moment we hang back, but something pushes me forward.
“Adelice,” Kincaid croons when I get close enough for him to see me. “I have been informed of what happened. In fact, I was about to send for you.”
“I’m sorry for interrupting. It was rude of me,” I say, “but I was hoping you had learned why he attacked me.”
“The boy is new, came in with a refugee group only a few weeks ago,” Kincaid says. “He had an introduction letter and everything. Standard protocol for someone who has come in through our contacts in Arras.”
