Nobody bothered to look for her for quite a while, despite Lord Trevalyan’s assurance of being back soon. Felix’s arm was numb from holding the lantern, so he set it down at his feet. He glanced sideways at his charge, who was as pale and motionless as before, her breathing shallow but steady. Her dark hair, pinned in some elaborate style before, was a mess of tangles and loose strands. Her dress had torn at the hem and sleeves, and one earring was missing.
She was his age, about halfway between twenty and thirty. Maybe a bit younger. Old enough to be married with children of her own, he guessed. Was there a husband somewhere looking for her? It didn’t seem like it. There had been only her father. She was beautiful in a soft, ethereal way. He didn’t think pretty girls from rich families normally stayed unwed long into their twenties. But what did he know about that?Stop staring at the poor girl.
He focused his attention firmly back toward the house. After watching the lantern wicks burn low, relighting them, and then walking up and down the path countless times to prevent himself from nodding off, Felix finally spotted lightsbobbing in the distance. He glanced over at Isolde, who had still not stirred, and then walked ahead to meet the approaching figures. “Over here,” he called in a low voice.
Two men emerged into view. One of them looked like a guard; the other was Isolde’s father. Lord Trevalyan’s face was tight with urgency as he strode forward. He looked around, eyebrows raised, then his eyes landed on Felix.
“Where is my daughter?” he demanded, his tone clipped.
Felix’s jaw tightened. “I did as I was told,” he replied. “Took her away from the ley line. She’s still… asleep. I left her back there.” He gestured toward the small seating area.
Lord Trevalyan didn’t bother with a response. He glanced at the faint glow of the lantern Felix had lit and strode off in that direction. “Go speak to the mage,” he barked over his shoulder, like an afterthought.
Felix bristled. Not a word of thanks, not even a nod of acknowledgment. As if he had not spent the past hour watching over this man’s incapacitated daughter. It shouldn’t surprise him. Nobles were used to talking to everyone as if they were dogs.
The guard accompanying Lord Trevalyan stared at Felix with an odd expression.
“What?” Felix snapped, his patience long gone. “I have nothing to do with any of this. What do they want?”
“Oh, uh, no idea,” the guard said with a shrug. “Just got told to bring you back to the mage.”
“Fine.” Felix heaved a sigh and started toward the house. “Let’s go then.”
Once inside, the guard darted ahead, leading him through a long hallway that ended at a closed door, and knocked briefly.
“Enter,” a voice from within said.
Felix stepped into what appeared to be a study. Scroll cases and bookshelves lined the room, and a heavy desk dominated the space. Standing by the window was the green-robed leader of the mages, who had so coldly told a man his daughter was beyond help earlier that night.
The mage turned and waved a hand dismissively at Felix’s companion. “You. Out. Go see Lord Trevalyan.”
The guard hesitated, casting Felix a sheepish look, then obeyed, closing the door behind him.
Felix crossed his arms and waited.
“You are a capable mercenary with a decent enough reputation,” the mage began, his tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather.
It wasn’t a question, so Felix didn’t respond.
“You served in the Duskrend mercenary band for a time, but left their company two years ago due to a dispute with your captain, one Alwin?” The mage raised an eyebrow. “Since then, you’ve been working alone. You live in a boarding house well below the means of a man with your skills. The logical assumption is that you are in debt. Am I correct?”
The fuck?Felix’s expression twisted in disbelief. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”The Trevalyan spymaster must be the best in the city.
“Answer the question.”
He scowled. “Yes.”
“Good.”
Felix raised his eyebrows. “Good? What does my personal situation have to do with any of… this?”
The mage ignored his irritation. “I’ll get to that. You have no magical abilities of any kind.”
“Do I look like I bloody do?”
“Indeed not. Any relatives with magic?”
“Not that I know of.” His patience was wearing thin. “Are we done with the interrogation?”
