The Vampire & Her Witch

”It wasn’t Liam’s fault...” Ollie started, but Liam’s voice cut across his with surprising firmness.

”No.”

The single word carried enough weight that even Ollie fell silent, turning to look at the young lord with surprise.

Liam stepped forward, and his movements were deliberate and controlled despite the tension visible in his shoulders. When he reached a position directly in front of Ashlynn, he lowered himself to one knee in a mirror of Ollie’s earlier gesture, pressing the fingertips of his right hand over his heart in the Eldritch style as he bowed his head in submission before raising his eyes to meet her gaze as he offered his explanation.

”This was my mission to complete for you, Lady Ashlynn,” Liam said, doing his best to keep his voice steady and even despite the pressure that accompanied Lady Ashlynn’s emerald gaze.

”Sir Ollie offered his knowledge and his power to help secure the alliance with my father, but the responsibility for how that alliance was negotiated and everything that happened as a result of the... problems with those negotiations,” he said delicately. ”That was my responsibility, and the fault is mine.”

He kept his gaze fixed on Ashlynn’s face, not flinching from the cold intensity of her eyes, even though he could hear the people behind them struggling to regulate their breathing in the face of the barely contained icy fury that radiated from the powerful witch.

”The circumstances that forced Sir Ollie to push himself to the brink never would have happened if not for my mistakes in handling my parents and their vassals,” Liam continued, pressing on when Ashlynn remained silent.

”I failed to recognize that among my father’s vassals, there were people of strong faith and convictions, and I failed to anticipate how they would react to the possibility of peace with the Eldritch,” he said, laying out his failures one by one to be judged. ”I failed to control the situation once it began to spiral. In the end, Sir Ollie was forced to act because of my failures, and his injuries are the result of my failures.”

His hand pressed more firmly against his chest, and his jaw tightened as he prepared for the worst.

”I take full responsibility for what happened to Sir Ollie,” Liam said. ”And I am prepared to face whatever consequences you deem appropriate for that failure.”

The silence that followed his words was heavy enough that Eira found herself holding her breath. Lady Ashlynn’s expression hadn’t softened at all during Liam’s speech, and the faint glow in her emerald eyes suggested that whatever power she’d used to heal Sir Ollie was still close to the surface, ready to be used for far less gentle purposes.

For a moment, Eira considered stepping forward to speak up on Lord Liam’s behalf. He’d done the best he could with revelations that shook the very foundations of the Dunn Court, and things had worked out in the end. Yet, no matter how much she wanted to speak up on his behalf, her feet wouldn’t take a step forward, and her lips refused to part.

Part of that was because she remembered Lord Liam’s words, scolding her in the carriage for asking about joining Lady Nyrielle’s progeny. There were currents here that she didn’t understand, and she took the lesson well that she might only make things worse if she tried to help, only to say the wrong thing at a critical moment.

But the greater force that kept her from speaking was Lady Ashlynn herself, who looked like she was trying to decide whether to scold Lord Liam or strike him physically for what had happened to Sir Ollie.

Before Ashlynn could respond, however, before whatever judgment or fury she was preparing could be unleashed, the door to the common room opened to reveal a group of people who had been waiting in the room next door in order to allow Lady Ashlynn to have this moment with Sir Ollie.

”I think,” Isabell said, her calm, measured voice cutting through the tension like a knife through butter. ”That this conversation might benefit from being held over dinner. Ollie is tired from everything that happened, and I’m sure he’s hungry after spending the day cooped up in a carriage.”

”We can hear the details from Lord Liam while Ollie has a chance to fill his belly, and there’s plenty of food for everyone else,” Isabell said as she stepped into the common room, followed by a small procession of others.

Diarmuid came first, still wearing his crimson and gold Inquisitor’s robes, though he’d loosened the collar slightly. He was followed by a hawk-nosed man with dark hair who dressed much like Sir Ollie did, wearing a dark brown sleeveless tunic over a cream colored undershirt with billowing sleeves that helped mask how thin his frame was.

Behind them came a youthful-looking man with delicate features and dark hair who looked like he was at most a year or two older than Cadeyrn, moving with an easy grace that suggested confidence despite his apparent youth.

Another handsome man followed, older than the dark-haired youth, though he felt somehow similar enough to be an older relative; though he wore antiquated robes that resembled the robes of the Inquisition instead of the refined, fashionable tunic and breeches of his young companion. But anyone familiar with the icons of the faithful would quickly notice patterns and symbols on his robes that belonged to older orders of the Church that hadn’t seen common use in decades or even longer.

Carwyn brought up the rear of the group with a heavily pregnant woman at his side, moving carefully but with obvious relief at reaching their destination. Eira’s eyes opened wide as she realized who the pregnant woman must be, after all, if one ignored her large belly and more humble bearing, it was easy to see how much she resembled Lady Ashlynn, but what was the pregnant mistress of Owain Lothian doing here, of all places?

And there were Inquisitors! Two of them, traveling with the Mother of Trees. Hot on the heels of that revelation came another thought as her eyes swept back to the other figures who had entered with the Inquisitors and the pregnant woman.

The Mother of Trees clearly didn’t travel with ordinary people. Perhaps the most ordinary of all of them was Sir Carwyn, bringing up the rear with Samira. She might have put the hawk-nosed, slender gentleman in the same category, but the way he dressed left her wondering if he might be another member of Ashlynn’s coven, like Sir Ollie... though the Cypress Knight had never mentioned another man among Lady Ashlynn’s coven.

But if that was the case, then who was the silver-haired woman dressed all in black? Surely she couldn’t be as ordinary as the scholar she resembled, the silvery eyes hiding behind her silver-rimmed spectacles held far too much confidence for that.

And then there was the strange youth with the soft, dark, curly hair, and eyes as black as coal. When Eira met his gaze, she felt like she was staring into the deepest, darkest cave she’d ever seen, and if she didn’t look away soon, the darkness would swallow her whole...