Touch (Denazen #1)(91)

She let out a long, venting sigh. “I’ll behave.”

Her father didn’t understand her reaction to Navar. Most thought him handsome, with his dark good looks and perfect soldier bearing, but the more Kera learned about him, the less attractive he became. Her father believed his guidance would cure Navar of his self-centered ways.

Kera didn’t share his optimism.

As soon as Navar strutted into the parlor, his clothes painstakingly pressed and shoes polished, the cheerful mood in the parlor evaporated like water in the desert. His dark eyes found hers and wouldn’t let go. Not a drop of rainwater had dared to fall on him, yet he moved to their empty fireplace, waved his hand, and wood appeared, along with a crackling fire. The air turned unpleasantly hot. Her day dress smothered her skin, and the tight stays pinched her torso. No amount of comfort could be had in the man’s presence.

She produced the required nod to his crisp bow and returned to her music, her fingers searching out the keys to a well-known song. Sadly, there wasn’t a lively enough tune to block out the deep, aggressive staccato of Navar’s voice. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him sit in a nearby chair, put ankle to knee, and rub a non-existent spot of mud from his shoe before settling in.

Kera let loose a weighty sigh and turned the page of sheet music. She’d die of boredom if she were made to stay put much longer. Her father’s quiet voice became lost in the drone of Navar’s egocentric comments, which were accompanied by the slap of his riding gloves against his knee, an annoying punctuation mark to his words. To those who looked, he was a lord in waiting. A king in the making. A conqueror in the flesh. Only she saw him for what he truly was.

A danger to all.

The thought sent a chill through Kera. She abandoned the piano and paced the edges of the room. Still, Navar’s eyes followed her. She lifted a book from a table and hid behind its pages. Navar’s gaze never wavered.

Irritated, she returned to the piano, clutched her necklace and muttered a tiny spell. A rank odor engulfed Navar, sending him out of his chair. He glared at the aging dog lying oblivious by the fireplace, before moving away.

Much better. She resumed playing.

He paced, then stopped and faced her. “Is everything well with you, Kera?”

Kera’s fingers froze on the ivory keys. To anyone listening, Navar’s inflection held just the right dash of interest without any real concern. She didn’t want to answer him. Didn’t want to encourage a new custom of verbal intercourse. A quick glance at her father told her she had no choice.

Staring sightlessly at her sheet music, she said, “I’m fine, my lord.”

She was always fine. It lent an air of banality that had kept him at a distance, so far.

The clock on the mantle chimed. Quarter past five. Dinner was hours away. Would this day never end? Navar’s appearance had already ruined her afternoon plans. After a lesson about the aspects of using the earth’s energy to perform magical feats, Faldon had planned to let Kera practice archery.

She sighed. If only they could refuse Navar their hospitality.

An idea formed. A deliciously evil idea that had Kera smiling despite herself. She rose, sweeping the bulk of her heavy skirts behind her, and crossed the room to a clear ball the size of a dinner plate. She stroked it and brought forth the image of their housekeeper.

“Agnes,” she whispered, “add another layer of cotton to Lord Navar’s mattress. You know the kind. We wouldn’t want him to suffer unduly tonight.”

Agnes grinned. “I’ll stuff it nice and tight, my lady.”

“Thank you.” She lifted her hand and the image disappeared.

Installing him on the lumpiest mattress should see him off soon. She turned and encountered her father’s questioning gaze and smiled. “Lord Navar’s accommodations are progressing nicely.”

Her act didn’t fool her father, but before he could corner her and beg her to be civil, Granel stormed into the parlor, his eyes bright with triumph. “My lords.”

Though Granel tried to appear commanding, his clothes always leaned toward dishevelment, which pointed more toward a common man than a courtly one. The stocky lieutenant-at-arms shoved his hat beneath his arm and bowed, displaying a tiny patch of baldness on top his head. Kera waited for him to acknowledge her, but he purposefully ignored her. Nothing new there, and highly desirable as far as she was concerned. The more invisible she became, the sooner they’d leave.

Navar scowled. “Well?”

“You were right.” Granel offered up a too-wide smile, more disturbing than any frown. “In the woods, not four leagues from where we stand.”

Navar slapped his gloves on his thigh again and stood. “Excellent.”

Kera’s father rose, a wary expression on his face. “What brings on such good humor?”

“We’ve found one of the tainted.” Navar peered at her father. “In your woods.”

Her father’s face reddened at the suggestion. “I thought you said the last of that plague was eradicated months ago.”

Kera moved to join them, but her father caught her eye. She could see the warning behind his calm gaze, could almost hear it. Stay put.

Navar pulled on his gloves. “Some will always fight their fate.”

“Are you sure it’s one of them?” Her father’s probe was a risk. If he pushed too hard, Navar could easily become suspicious. It was his nature.