able to take all of your burdens as acting Master to House Majum away from you as he claims his rightful inheritance. Is he well?” Again her quick, cunning smile of perfect pleasantness. “I would hate for some mysterious illness to affect him as it did his poor sister. What a tragedy for you to lose the girl while she was in your care! I know you must be striving with all effort to see your nephew arrives healthy and happy at his waiting seat in the Chamber of Masters.”
“He’s quite healthy I assure you.” The Baron made his assurance through tight teeth as he glanced around at the other Masters who stood nearby on the steps to the Chamber of Masters. They were observing the exchange with interest…some even with unconcealed amusement. “When he takes his seat, it will be as though I am right there beside him. I’m training him well.”
“I’m sure you are teaching him everything you possibly can.”
To anyone who knew the Baron, the implication was clear. Since everyone at hand was a peer, few felt the remark slip past them without understanding.
“My Lady,” Najir interrupted softly at her back. “The Chamber convenes in five minutes.”
“So it does. Well, we shouldn’t be late, Majum. I will take my seat, and you will take your nephew’s for now. Business as usual, then.”
She nodded a farewell and went to leave, but she had barely moved a step when the Baron’s hand clamped like a vice around her arm. He found her ear as he jerked her shoulder hard against his chest.
“Beware that clever tongue, Hanna, or I will cut it out and lay it beside your brother’s. Or perhaps I will take your heir’s first and leave your House without succession. I hear your sister Ashanna is impossible for you to control these days, and I would hate to cut apart one Drakoulous bitch only to have her replaced with another. I already made that mistake with your mother.”
Hanna turned her head slowly and met the Baron’s black eyes with cold contempt and fury in hers. This time she joined him in his whispers.
“Now let me warn you, Wheyn,” she hissed, his name dripping from her lips like spit-out poison, “that unlike my mother, my nature is not so peaceful. Pray your taunts about my brother are never proven, because if I discover you touched even the air around him, I will eviscerate you. I will bathe my face in your blood and then lick away every drop with ultimate pleasure afterwards.”
Her threat was so unexpectedly vivid and vicious that the Baron released her arm and took a step back. The believability Vejhon had discovered in her eyes was not exclusive to him. Majum could see the coldness of her truth and the honesty of her threat. He had never realized that the daughter of so temperate a woman as her mother could ever be so ruthless. Where had she learned it from? And where did she hide it? Even he couldn’t help exposing his less savory side in public now and then. In her eight years as Master of her House, she had given no clue at all to her bloodthirsty nature. Should he believe her? It was more than likely a bluff…
Wheyn flicked his eyes to Najir. The slave had stood passive the entire time, although he had been close enough to catch some of the exchange. The slave would pay with his life if he attacked a free man of any rank without permission to protect his Master’s life, but the big bastard looked as though he didn’t much care. Najir clearly wanted to rip Wheyn’s head from his body.
Impressive. If Majum hadn’t hated the bitch with such a passion, he’d ask her how she managed to control the brute, even when it was obvious he did not wish to be in control of himself. Whatever her technique, he was beginning to think that she might even be able to break in her new confection as well one day. As he watched her walk off, Najir in tow, he forced himself to master the furious scream of jealousy the idea sent ripping through him.
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