Page 176 of Ashen Torment

Nathaniel settles further into the armchair. He crosses his legs, his back relaxing, his gaze not so.

“Quite careless, brother.”

“In any case, Isobel hasn’t been staying long, lately.”

“Indeed?” I ask.

“Since this afternoon she’s been spreading perfume everywhere,” he replies. “You know, she was headed to Lord Dorian’s, so...”

I feel the blood accelerate beneath my skin. My fingers close slowly around the chalice.

She is with him. She went to reach him. And he did not even think to—

I stand up, a flash of dull pain tightening across my back, a brusque warning from the bruise. I have to support my back for an instant, the stiffened muscles protest against the posture maintained for too long.

“You were right, Richard,” I say. “It is hot in here.”

The fever intensifies again, leaving a metallic taste in my mouth.

Nathaniel limits himself to observing the table.

“I wouldn’t have said. Isobel usually prefers written invitations. Not sudden visits.”

I take a few steps toward the window.

“Do you surrender, then?” Nathaniel asks.

I stop.

“I beg your pardon?”

He points to the chessboard.

“You choose the next bottle,” I reply.

Then I reach the window. Outside, the sunset has grown darker.

What did you say to her?

Did you let yourself be served tea like a well-behaved man?

Did you let her brush your hand?

Did you bow your head as she spoke in that falsely innocent voice?

It burns me to think that now, with him, there is Isobel to capture his attention.

Why?

Behind me, I hear light steps and the clink of a bottle being opened.

“Nathaniel.”

I hear the wine slide into the chalice with a soft sound.

“Yes?”

“I thought you did not approve of Isobel’s interest in Lord Vasiliev Ashford.”