Caress of Fire (Dawn of Dragons Book 2) by Mary Auclair

Author:Mary Auclair [Auclair, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Eclipse Press
Published: 2018-12-18T18:30:00+00:00

Henron stood at the door, preventing anyone from entering. Anyone other than Fedryc and Isobel, who stood motionless over the girl’s body.

Fedryc cast a sharp glance at his aunt, her face as smooth and expressionless as if she was looking at a doll lying on the floor and not a girl who had worked all her life for the Haal family. A girl Isobel had known for years, yet whose death brought not an ounce of sadness or compassion. Her mouth was straight and two fine lines ran down at the corners of her lips. Isobel’s eyes were lined with dark circles and her skin looked parched and brittle. She looked older, more tired than on the day he’d arrived in Aalstad. Lord Aymond’s death had taken a toll on her.

“What was her name?” Fedryc looked away from Isobel to the still figure of the servant girl. She was slumped in a wooden chair, her upper body slightly leaning to the side, her hands hanging down while her head was tilted way too far back. Her empty eyes stared at the ceiling, soft, golden and beautiful, but beginning to cloud with the shroud of death. She was young, perhaps in her late teens or early twenties, slim and short, dressed in a long gray dress like all the servants of Aalstad castle.

“Asha.” Isobel’s musical voice was even but Fedryc heard the tremor at the end. Perhaps Isobel wasn’t as insensitive as he first thought. “She was born in the castle. Her mother and father died years ago. Her grandmother will be distraught.”

“Yes, she will,” Fedryc answered, kneeling in front of the dead servant girl. She was Delradon, like every other person in the castle. It seemed Isobel didn’t hire human help. The girl’s face looked so peaceful, so innocent, with her dark lashes framing eyes that looked without seeing. She would look alive if it wasn’t for the painful stillness of her chest and the faint blue tone of her lips. “She didn’t die long ago. An hour, maybe two, not much more.”

“She was so young.” Isobel stepped closer and the mask on her features cracked, revealing the woman behind. Fedryc got a glimpse of the grief that struck his aunt and it softened his anger toward the woman. “I remember her as a young child, always running into trouble, always where she shouldn’t be. She had such spirit. She was Silva’s friend, the only other girl her age in the castle.”

Isobel turned away from Asha and walked to the girl’s small dresser, the only other piece of furniture in the sparse room apart from the bed and the chair, then braced herself on the plain wooden surface where there was a small jewelry box. Fedryc could see her hands gripping the wooden surface so hard her knuckles were white. He watched his aunt for another second before looking at Henron.

“Have your men found out anything about her?” Fedryc asked him. “Did the girl have any enemies?”

“She was nineteen years old,” Isobel snapped, not turning around to look at them.

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