Twenty-year-old Claire must deceive a vampire prince to infiltrate the monarchy and discover their secrets while resisting her desire for him.
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Nothing in my life has ever been easy. Including the mission my family has sent me on.
My sister and...
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Expliquer (verb) to explain, to account for
"Where are we going?" I asked Bastien, struggling to keep up with his long strides as we walked across damp grass. Dew clung to the hem of my robe and my ankles.
I was thankful for the cold. Which was probably the first time in my life I'd ever thought such a ridiculous thing, but it was keeping me awake almost as well as the telaryon root in my pocket would, and it gave a reason for my cheeks to be pink, besides his presence.
The vampire hadn't said anything since leading me from our room, and his silence was unnerving. We needed to hurry along with whatever he had planned.
Bastien pointed at a wooden building approximately two hundred yards from the inn. Low light shone from fogged windows, and the only sign of life was the line of smoke puffing from the chimney. The front door a stone's throw from the black lake.
"Why are we going there?" I asked, my eyes wide. My brain conjured images of torture devices where these evil sorcerers put Witches of the Light to the question. "And why are we walking so fast?"
Bastien didn't slow his pace. "You're cold, so I'm trying to hurry. And that building up ahead is a bathhouse."
"A bathhouse?" I repeated, jogging to catch up to him and lacing my arm through his the second I saw an ancient witch standing on the porch of one of the small homes watching us. All of a sudden, the inn seemed much safer. I lowered my voice. "My lord, why are we going to a bathhouse?"
He angled his chin toward me. Humor lighting his icy eyes. "Didn't you take baths at the Nightfall Convent?"
I rolled my eyes, and he smirked.
"Of course I took baths," I said defensively. "Just not in a special house or with..." My thoughts broke off, and I unwound my arm from him, hugging it to my chest. I gazed at the grass as I added, "A male."
He stopped before me, and I nearly ran right into him. My damp slippers skidding over the slick grass.
His glare was hard and cold.
"I'm only accompanying you," he said, "because I told you I'd protect you from the evil witches who fed you stew and offered to make you a poultice for the wounds that magickal necklace created," he added, gesturing to the choker. "That choker is the reason you and I are in the mess we're in."
There was something accusatory hiding behind his tone, and I knew he didn't trust me. Nor I him.
Bastien might be a beautiful monster, but he was still a monster.
I didn't know what to say, so I recalled what Mama had told me. Be polite and subservient. That's what they want.
"You're upset with me. For what I did."
He made an amused sound in the back of his throat, but nothing in his face was playful. "You're insightful."
I pushed back the hair intent on getting caught in my eyelashes. "I thought I was stubborn. Or perhaps, brave."
