Ruelle's fingers slowly curled beneath the table. Even though the fire burned on the side in the fireplace, she felt an icy chill crawl through her. How did he find out?
She forced herself to keep looking at Elder Minister Carnifex, afraid that even the smallest flicker in her expression might tell him he had struck the truth. She had been careful and there was no way Peyton had known.
"There's no need to be hostile," Elder Minister Carnifex remarked, and his eyes shifted to look at Lucian sitting beside her. The black tendrils of smoke had quietly spilled across the polished floor, spreading outward until they swallowed the ground beneath them. "If I truly intended to make an issue of her being a witch, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Would we, Lucian?"
But the black tendrils didn't retreat.
Ruelle's fingers tightened in her lap before she found herself asking, "Does that mean... you'll still allow the treaty to continue?"
