The Blood Knight

Начало книги

Smiling, Robert Dare offered Muriele a rose.

“Keep it,” she suggested. “Perhaps it will improve your smell.”

Robert sighed, stroking the small black beard that sharpened his naturally fine features. Then he retracted both hand and flower, allowing them to rest on his breast, fixing his dark gaze on Muriele.

He looked far older than the twenty winters he had spent in the world, and for the barest instant she felt a distant sympathy for this man who had murdered her husband and daughters, for what he had become.

Whatever that was, however, it wasn’t human, and her sympathy was dragged off by a tide of revulsion.

“As charming as ever, my dear,” Robert said evenly.

His gaze shifted slightly to the other woman who stood with them in the room as if he were a cat trying to keep track of two mice. “And how does the beautiful Lady Berrye fare today?”

Alis Berrye—Muriele’s maid and protector—favored Robert with a cordial smile. “I am very well, Your Highness.”

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