Blood of the Underworld(7)

She winced at the memory of Leon. He’d been unpleasant at times, if not repulsive. The fat had rolled off of him, yet his tiny eyes had always been of a young, starving man eager to take, and take, regardless the vice. She’d heard stories of what his gentle touchers—his private group of elite torturers—could do to a man to make him break. A shudder ran through her. She prayed that Stephen had inherited very little of his father beyond his name.

As for the last family of the Trifect, the Keenans, they’d yet to recover from the fiasco in Angelport two years prior, when both Madelyn and Laurie had been murdered, along with their temporary successor, Torgar. Their grandchild, Tori, was the biological heir, but it would be many years before she could take over rule. Last report Alyssa had heard from Angelport was that various relatives were still bickering over who would be Tori’s godfather, as the Keenan wealth crumbled around them.

No, Alyssa was the pillar of strength of the Trifect, the one holding it all together. She had to be strong, confident. Zusa had been right. Terrible as it was, the last thing she wanted to do was flaunt her feminine qualities when needing Stephen to take her seriously.

“I should have brought Nathaniel with me,” Alyssa said as the litter bounced across the rough street.

“Your son is better served with an honorable man like Lord Gandrem than dealing with worms like the Conningtons,” Zusa said.

Alyssa frowned and glanced out the curtained window to the passing homes.

“Yes,” she said. “But it won’t be too long before he must put away foolish fantasies of knights and armies. I won’t have all I’ve built squander and break like it has for the Keenans. In time, he must learn to deal with the worms as well as the dragons.”

Not long after, they arrived at the closely guarded Connington mansion. Thick, high walls protected it from intruders, and armed soldiers with sashes about their waists to show their loyalty to the family patrolled the area. At the gate, two men bowed and opened it wide so they could enter. One of them sneered at Zusa’s appearance, but the woman twirled, blew him a kiss, and then followed after Alyssa.

“Must I tell you to behave?” Alyssa whispered as they crossed the stone path toward the mansion entrance.

“I could have struck his head, if you would prefer.”

Alyssa glanced back, saw the same guard watching them with a sneer on his face.

“Perhaps on the way out,” she said, and they both quietly laughed.

Another guard stopped them at the door, and he glared at the daggers Zusa carried.

“No weapons,” he told them.

“Zusa is my bodyguard, and will use them only to protect me,” Alyssa said.

“There is no need. You are safe within these walls.”

“Is that so?” Alyssa asked. “How long have you served the Conningtons, good sir?”

“Nine years,” said the guard.

“That means you were here. Excellent. Please, tell me, where were you when your former master died?”

The guard swallowed hard. Leon had died in the mansion barracks, believed by most to have been killed by the Watcher.

“Very well,” said the guard. “But do not draw them unless forced.”

The doors opened, and they stepped inside. Alyssa had been there before, after its reconstruction from the fire during the Bloody Kensgold. The floors were still soft, deep red rugs she knew had to be a nightmare to keep clean. The ceiling was high above her, the wood columns decorated with various animals. But where there should have been vases on tables were only bare surfaces. Where there should have been paintings and murals, bare walls.

“Much missing extravagance,” Zusa said, keeping her voice soft.

“Perhaps their coffers are worse than we thought,” Alyssa said.

Zusa didn’t look convinced. She gestured to where many portraits of Leon were clearly missing.

“Or the son looked upon the father, and did not like what he saw.”

At the end of the hall they waited until a servant stepped in, announced their presence, and then flung open the door. A practiced smile on her face, Alyssa went in to greet the new heir to the Connington fortune.

She knew he’d be young, only eighteen if their information on him was true, but she was still surprised by his small size, his soft face, and even softer hands, as he bent on one knee, bowed low, and kissed her offered fingers. Alyssa felt her smile grow more natural. He may not have spent his early life in affluence, but he’d learned quickly over the past year.

“I’m thrilled to at last make your acquaintance,” Stephen said, his voice tinged with a charming honesty. “I must admit, ever since my appointment, you were the one I was most nervous to meet.”