Page 146 of Ashborne Phoenix

When I didn’t relent or invite him in, he sighed and glanced at the servants again. “Sir, I will keep the inconvenience to a minimum, but… your reputation precedes you. I assure you, we would both far rather work in tandem, than in opposition. And in order to prove that to you, I must ask for a moment of your time… urgently.”

“This isn’t the time for political—”

He leaned in, and my senses screamed. I would have moved to take him to the ground, but his muttered words reached me a split second before I brought a hand up to capture him in a headlock.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

I glared at him, nearly nose to nose. “And who is your enemy, sir?”

“Yours, I believe. Though if I might step inside, I’m certain we could determine that quickly.”

I assessed him swiftly, instinctively. Roughly the same height and weight as me. He was older—possibly more experienced. But everything I’d observed about the man, and learned from Bren and Donavyn, suggested his weapons ran more to intellect and stealth than physical confrontation. Still, one could never be certain. Especially when I knew the highborn often undertook training and—

“Let him in. He’s a good man. I think.” My head snapped around and I cursed again at the sight of Grace, wrapped tightly in a silk robe, standing with her chin high in the doorway of the bedroom. Her hair was piled up, twisted into a loose bun, and her face was pale. But she didn’t stand like a woman with a mortal wound.

In the slanting light from the tall window, she was stunning. And virtually unclothed.

“Grace, I’ll handle this,” I growled. “Go rest—”

“Let him in. He despised Breckon. That’s a count strongly in his favor,” she said firmly.

I turned back to find Hanson raising his chin from a bow. His brows shot up. “Despised? In the past tense? So the rumors are true?”

Muttering under my breath, I stepped into the suite, and opened an arm to indicate Hanson should enter, but I glared a warning at him, and positioned myself between him and Grace.

He eyed me, wary, but not nervous, as I closed the door and locked it once more.

“Thank you for the… hospitality,” he offered wryly as I turned back to the room.

Grace gave him a tired smile. “To what do we owe the gift of your presence, Hanson?” I hurried to her side and led her to the couch, settling her into it, and pulling a lap rug over her as Hanson spoke.

“I understood there was a… duel of sorts overnight. The castle is abuzz. At first I intended to merely check after your safety, Lady Barnslow. But it seems perhaps some of the darker rumors are, in fact, true. I knew we’d lost a few men, but I assumed most merely slept in after a long night. Yet, I gather from your comment Breckon is no longer with us?”

As Grace nodded, I frowned and pulled the lap blanket higher, so it covered her chest as well as her lap, before turning back to the man.

“You didn’t come to make sure Grace was safe. I know enough of you, Lord Hanson, to know you don’t waste your time with casual encounters. You’ve gained entry, now speak plainly. We have very little time, and I have very little trust.”

Hanson’s jaw tightened. “I would greatly enjoy a frank conversation, if you are so willing, my lord?”

I stood next to Grace so he couldn’t reach her without coming through me, and folded my arms. “Isn’t that precisely what I just said, my lord?”

“For the love of all that is holy, why don’t you both just whip out your blades and compare lengths,” Grace sighed, shaking her head. “Voski, Hanson was kind and respectful to Bren. He found Breckon deplorable, and when I was alone with my former betrothed, he stepped in to ensure I was here willingly and discreetly offered his services if I should need them.”

I opened my mouth to retort about his alliances with far more distasteful men, but she continued.

“Lord Hanson, Voski—excuse me, Lord Vane Ashford—is my mate and husband avowed. He protects me with his life, and is a man well worth following. I would urge you to do so—many here did not, and in the early hours of this morning they learned of his strength and fortitude to their detriment.”

I would have hissed at her not to give too much away, but Hanson’s gaze turned sharp.

“Ashford? In truth? The Lady Avarice Ashford’s son? Not a ring-in?”

“Sadly, no,” I muttered.

“So, the rumors are true? The Circle was broken? She was… dispatched? Along with many of her most loyal?”

I went still. “Were you among them, Lord Hanson? You seem healthy and hale just now.”

“Of course not—do I look like a sorcerer to you?” he spat.