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Duchess Teerman and Lord Mazeen went in the opposite direction, heading toward the gates leading to Radiant Row. Neither they nor their guards were aware of me as they neared the spot where I remained hidden in the shadows.

I stiffened again.

My gaze fixed on the Lord and narrowed as he passed. Most Ascended had the same scent, but Lord Mazeen smelled different tonight. Beneath that stale-sweet scent they usually had was a hint of jasmine, iron, and…something else. It wasn’t the flowery smell or the faint trace of blood that I picked up from him that caused my hand to tighten around the hilt of my broadsword, and it should’ve, considering what they’d just been discussing. It was the sweeter, slightly earthy scent that caused my nostrils to flare and a low growl to rumble from my chest. He carried her scent on him.

The Maiden’s.

Soft, quick footsteps came from my left as I watched the Lord disappear into the night.

“Hawke?” came a soft voice. “Is that you?”

Dragging my focus from where I last saw the Lord, I turned to see Britta inching her way along the wall.

“I thought I was well hidden,” I answered.

“It is you,” she said, her arms folded tightly over her chest. “I saw you from up there.” She tipped her rounded chin to one of the windows on the second floor. “I thought I’d say hi.”

Tamping down my irritation, I smiled as her scent reached me. It was tart. Lemony. My gaze drifted over her willowy frame as she drew near. How I hadn’t immediately recognized it wasn’t her last night was beyond me. It was likely due to my needing to feed. Our senses weakened when we went too long, but damn. Britta was a beauty, but she wasn’t anything like the Maiden.

“Something happen tonight?” I asked, using the interruption to my benefit.

Several flaxen curls bounced from below the edges of her cap as she nodded. “There was a death.” One hand went to her slender throat. “A…a murder.”

“That’s what I heard.” I glanced at the gates. The Lord and Duchess were long gone. “Was it a servant?”

“No. It was Malessa Axton.” Britta lowered her voice and stepped in close enough that we nearly shared the same breaths. Considering how quietly she spoke, the latter had little to do with what she said. “She is the widow of one of the merchants and fairly close to Lady Isherwood.”

“Was she here with the Lady?”

Britta shook her head as she leaned in, her chest brushing my arm. “As far as I know, Lady Isherwood isn’t here tonight.” Her head tilted back as she looked up at me with cornflower-blue eyes. “Mrs. Axton was alone…”

The way she trailed off told me she knew more than what she was saying. But, then again, Britta always knew a lot about everything.

Except for the Maiden.

When I asked Britta about her, she had very little information to share. That was no different than any other person, but how did the Maiden get her hands on Britta’s cloak?

I angled my body toward her, noting how her breath caught as my arm dragged across her chest. I dipped my chin, watching her lashes sweep down. “I heard a Descenter was at fault.”

“I don’t know about that.” The hand at her throat lowered. Her fingers curled around the collar of the maroon uniform the servants wore.

“Because she wasn’t alone?” I pressed.

“No.” Reaching out with her other hand, she fixed the strap of my baldric that didn’t need fixing as she drew her lower lip between her teeth. Her lashes lifted. Little flirt. “I heard she was in one of the sitting rooms with a Lord.” Her finger lingered on the strap that crossed my chest. “The chamber she was found in. Her neck was broken.”

“And she was drained of blood?”

Her pert nose scrunched. “I hadn’t heard that. Only about her neck.” Swallowing, she drew her hand back. “Her blood was drained?”

“That’s what I heard, but I could be mistaken,” I added, not wanting to disturb her. “Do you know what Lord she was with?”

“Lord Mazeen,” she answered.

I took a breath. “I don’t know much about him.” That was all I said. I fell quiet, giving her the opportunity to elaborate.

Britta took it. “He can be…very friendly,” she said tentatively, cautiously. The servants, even her, knew better than to speak ill of the Ascended. Her throat worked on another swallow. “Some would say a little too friendly.”

I liked that he smelled of the Maiden even less. “Is this something you’ve had personal experience with?”

“I tend to make sure I’m very busy when he’s near.”

“Clever girl,” I remarked, and she gave me a grin. “Is he at the castle often?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Not any more than the others, but he is usually with the Duke. They are good friends.”

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