Selene offered a graceful, respectful nod toward the Count before gliding toward one of the seats near the right of the table. Then she gestured to the chair beside her and Alaric took his place without hesitation, his black cloak folding behind him as he sat.
Though his eyes flicked over the room once, memorizing faces. Nobles. Merchants. Military officers in ceremonial sashes.
Their gazes returned to him just as quickly.
Whispers were kept behind tight lips, but their eyes were less restrained.
Who is he?A new retainer? A bodyguard? A lover?
But no one asked aloud.
A few more chairs shuffled as the last of the attendees entered, a balding merchant lord with bejeweled fingers and a paunch belly, followed by a young knight adjusting his house tabard. The doors closed behind them with a solid thud, and silence fell.
Count Casten leaned forward, folding his hands atop the polished wood.
"Let us begin."
