Page 124 of Ashen Torment

Isobel shrugs slightly. “We have known each other since we were children.”

Agnes moves closer. “May I do so as well?”

I swallow hard, and at that very moment, he gives a short, sharp cough. He glares at me as though he wants to strangle me.

I ignore both of them and turn to Isobel.

“How are Cecil and Richard?”

“Much better. The fever has almost left my brothers”

Duke Alaric strikes the heel of his stirrup, and a uniform movement ripples through the group. The horses respond, we advance slowly, in an orderly line.

Isobel turns to him. “We could ride together, what do you think, Lord Dorian?”

He barely lifts his chin, his lips remaining clamped in a thin line.

“By all means,” he replies, his voice dry.

But instead of moving closer to her, he closes the distance between the two of us. His horse moves forward, and I perceive the tension running along the animal’s back, transferring to him.

His presence remains constant, dominating the space between our saddles as the group proceeds along the icy driveway.

The pace of my horse matches the rhythm of the group, but I feel his breath beside me, every now and then, his eyes graze mine, a flash of intense gray that pierces through me to shake me.

He seems ill at ease.

Isobel and Agnes advance beside us.

“The wind is chillier than I anticipated,” I observe.

He barely tilts his head, his gaze remains fixed forward, without uttering a word.

Isobel laughs lightly. “I hope your horses prove more docile than their masters.”

“Mine tends to obey when there is respect for the one leading.”

Why does he not speak?

At every turn, his horse just barely brushes mine. Agnes observes the scene, annoyed.

“Do you not fear losing your balance, Viscount?” Isobel asks.

“If Lord Vasiliev Ashford did not invade others’ space...” Agnes intervenes crossly.

It seems the dislike between them is mutual.

He tightens his black gloves on the reins, staring straight ahead.

I shake my head slightly, without looking away from him.

“I am careful, thank you.”

The woods close in around the path, and the group separates, heading in different directions.

Agnes, beside Lord Dorian, tilts her head, shifting her blonde curls. “You seem upset, my lord.”

He runs a hand through his hair, his fingers slowly tightening on the leather of his gloves.