Page 98 of Ashen Torment

Another cough wrenches his chest.

“And besides, hearing ‘Lord Brownell’ from you... it sounds terribly formal.”

I pat him on the back. “Go.”

He smiles slightly and follows my valet toward the carriage, his figure receding with a slight tremor.

I turn to go back and nearly bump into a solid chest.

Lord Dorian has remained behind me, so close I could have counted his breaths. He makes no move to shift, he remains planted there.

“You have accomplished your mission. You may go now,” I say, trying to pass him without touching.

“Are you dismissing me, Viscount?”

“I did not say that.”

I move past him and continue, hoping he will stay behind.

He doesn’t.

His footsteps return parallel to mine.

“You don’t seem well either,” he observes.

“I was perfectly fine until a moment ago.”

“Does something disturb you?”

I inhale slowly, my fingers resting on my temples.

“No, Lord Vasiliev Ashford.”

“Why do you not simply call me Dorian?”

I stop for an instant and my hands slide away from my face. “Because we do not possess that kind of familiarity.”

He moves to my side again, perfectly aligned with my pace.

“And what kind, pray tell, would that be?”

I don’t answer him.

“The familiarity you have with Richard?” he insists.

“I have known Richard for years. We grew up together and attended the academy together. You have nothing to do with it.”

“You two are friends.”

“Yes. That is what I said.”

“And we are not.”

I stop. He takes a second too long to do so, nearly overshooting me.

“No. We are not at all. Therefore, there is no reason to take such a liberty.”

His gaze remains fixed on mine. Too long. Too direct.