Page 242 of Ashen Torment

“They mentioned Le Rêve.”

My fork remains suspended in mid-air.

“Are journalists not supposed to be barred from that place?”

He nods slowly. “It has always been so.”

He tilts his glass and drinks. “But, apparently, someone managed to infiltrate. The details were... excessive.” He makes a vague gesture with his hand. “What he did. In whose company. No other names, however.”

A low sound escapes my lips.

Lucien smirks. “The lyrical angel revealed as a promiscuous one.” He shakes his head, amused. “It was inevitable that it would cause a stir.”

A corner of my mouth lifts. “I would have paid to see Reverend Fallow’s expression at the news.”

“You are a terrible man, brother.”

“Lucien, you are laughing. Admit you would have enjoyed it too.”

He smiles but drinks to wash it down, tilting his head back slightly. “They wrote an article about you as well, did they not?”

I tighten my grip on the cutlery, the cold metal stings my knuckles.

“That one was truly absurd. I understand many things, but to insinuate such a thing... with the Viscount, no less.”

“Do you know him?” I ask through gritted teeth.

He leans toward me.

“No, but I know how famous he is. Tell me... you who know him, is he truly as otherworldly as they say?”

I slam the cutlery onto the table.

Lucien stiffens in confusion, his brow furrowing as he shifts back in his chair.

“That is none of your concern.”

“It was only a question. Why are you so agitated?”

“I am not agitated.”

“It would not seem so.”

I fling the fork onto the table, it slides, leaving a dark streak across the cloth.

“Damn it, Lucien!”

He jolts, his eyes widening, hands tightening on his own utensil.

“I said nothing—what has gotten into you?”

“You speak of him as if he were an object!” my voice thunders through the room.

“I did not say that. I was merely curious... calm down, for God’s sake.”

I press my fingers to my temples, digging my thumb and forefinger into the skin.

Lucien pushes a glass of wine toward me. “Relax.”