Page 106 of Ashen Torment

I continue without looking at him.

“Regarding the book... it was not a requested cadeau.”

I grip the door handle.

“Nevertheless, I thank you.”

When I open the door, the corridor hits me with colder air, stripping away the warmth just born in the room. Behind me, he remains silent. We exit the library, I first, with Étienne closing the door behind us.

“Evander.”

I turn.

“Mother.”

Her expression is strained. I already know that she will not like any version of the facts.

“Where had you disappeared to?”

“There was a slight mishap.”

Her eyes slide past my shoulder. I turn a little as well, enough to see him advance half a step.

“Viscountess Rochefort.”

Bowing his head, he takes her hand and presses his lips to it.

Her gaze falls upon the wound on his forehead, then bounces back to me. With a light wave of her hand, she summons Mademoiselle Agnes, who appears with her faint scent of violets and the rustle of her lilac dress.

“Evander, Mademoiselle Fairfax wishes to take some air. Accompany her.”

She tilts her head toward me, smiling weakly, and a lock of golden hair falls onto her cheek before she gracefully tucks it behind her ear.

Behind me, Lord Dorian intervenes. “You would feel the cold out there.”

She looks at him, her light lashes lifting, and those blue eyes flecked with green linger on him.

“I am well accustomed to the climate, my lord. Do not worry.”

She moves toward me, her dress brushes the floor with a soft sound, and when she reaches me, her arm hooks into mine.

The pain in my temples returns, stubborn and dull.

Only now do I realize that, for a brief moment, in that room with him, the pain was gone.

Behind me, Lord Dorian’s breathing grows heavier. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his brows knit as he watches where her hand touches mine.

Does he perhaps harbor an interest in her?

“Lord Ashford, Duke Durant was looking for you a moment ago.” My mother interjects, and with her hand she indicates the corridor leading to the winter garden.

“Vasiliev Ashford, Mother.”

She turns toward me in surprise. I also feel his gaze upon me, concentrated, almost disconcerted.

“The name is Lord Dorian Vasiliev Ashford.” I repeat, without knowing why I persist.

Her attention returns to him.