Page 21 of Tarnished Crown

Slowly, I looked over at a small table in the corner to find an older man sitting there, watching me with a wicked gleam in his eye and a smug grin on his mouth. The expression was so familiar, even on the aged face, that I knew who he was immediately.

It shouldn’t have surprised me, knowing that the duke was likely to reside in this part of the castle as well, but I hadn’t expected him to be in his rooms in the middle of the day.

One of many things I had been wrong about, as it turned out. I wondered if this would turn out to be the one that killed me, considering who this man was and everything he had done. I swallowed back a wave of bile.

There was less than a second for a battle of wills where I once more debated running back out the balcony, but none of that would matter now that the duke himself had seen me. Besides, where else would I even go?

“Good morning,” he greeted casually, as if I hadn’t just broken into his private chambers from the castle roof. “Won’t you join me for breakfast?”

My heartbeat picked up its pace, and my mind reeled.What kind of game is he playing?

He gestured toward the chair seated across from him and began scooping some of the food from the bowls onto the plate there.

“Please,” he said, pointing at plates of poached eggs, bacon, and even biscuits. “I hate eating alone.”

My traitorous stomach growled, eager for something other than the porridge I had eaten every day since arriving in Bear.

But the small, principled part of me had no desire to take a meal with the man who had ordered my grandparents’ bodies strewn up the wall of their own castle. The man who had colluded with my other grandfather’s own brother and sister to depose him and start a war.

Where is my family’s blood debt in all of this?Aunt Isla’s mother and despicable uncle had disappeared before they could pay for their crimes, but this man was here, alive and physically well.

Would it be worth it if sitting here helped me find a way out of this?

Easing myself into the chair, I waited for the questions to begin, for the accusations or the list of ways I would pay for this, but they never came. The duke only picked at his eggs, thoroughly enjoying every bite, smiling up at me now and then, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to have me in his room.

“Do eat, my dear,” he said, gesturing toward my plate. “You won’t want it to go cold.”

Something was very wrong here, but I forced a neutral expression and picked up the biscuit, slathering some butter and honey on top. It was an effort to force myself to take a bite. The food should have been delicious, but doing something so casual as eating in the man’s presence had my stomach churning.

The duke watched me carefully, without saying a word, which only made the tension in the room grow.Is he waiting for something?

“Thank you, Sir,” I choked out, motioning toward my breakfast.

“Sir? What happened to Aleksander?”

Having never met the man before, I wasn’t aware we were on such informal terms...but, whatever game he was playing, I decided to play along.

“Of course, Aleksander. My apologies--”

I stopped short when his features pinched together, and he darted glances around the room. When his eyes landed on me once again, the paranoid expression that had been there only seconds ago had already disappeared.

“Ah, good morning, my dear. I’m pleased you could join me. I do hate eating alone.” A smile stretched across his face, as if he were seeing me for the first time again, and my chest tightened.

I forced a grin in return, though my mind was traveling to a dark place it hadn’t visited in years.

For a moment, it wasn’t Duke Aleksander sitting across the table from me, but Grandmother Bridget instead. She had forgotten the last time I had come to see her, though it had only been earlier that morning.

Her memory had been failing her for some time, but eventually she forgot my name, and then Avani’s. Eventually, she even forgot who my parents were.

My eyes stung, and my stomach knotted.

The difference here, of course, was that Grandmother Bridget hadn’t been a murdering sociopath before her mind failed her. When she forgot when or where she was, it was usually a peaceful place she returned to. One where her son was still alive or when she lived in the cottage by the forest.

Aleksander, on the other hand, had been ruthless and cruel. There was no telling who he thought I was or what he might decide to do about it.

“Do be sure to eat, my dear.” He motioned toward my plate as he continued taking bites from his own.

I forced myself to pick up a slice of the bacon, conscious of the way he waited for me to take a bite. Once again, something that should have been delicious turned to ash on my tongue.