I rolled my eyes so hard it was a surprise they didn’t fall out of the back of my head. I wasn’t sure if he actually thought that offended me as he stopped to open the door. Likely he believed he’d delivered some sort of cutting blow with his words. Most little men thought they were capable of such. He looked over his shoulder, the stare in his pale eyes challenging.
Meeting his gaze, I smiled, and that smile deepened as I saw his jaw clench. Breaking eye contact, I walked into the study.
Claude sat on the edge of his desk, his long, lean legs encased in black breeches. He looked up from a piece of parchment he held as we entered. A loose smile appeared on Claude’s handsome face, and I was struck by how there wasn’t a single hint of last night’s indulgences there. It had to be because of what he was. If I behaved like him, I’d have permanent shadows beneath my eyes.
“Good morning, pet.” He lowered the parchment to the white oak surface of his desk. “Please have a seat.”
“Good morning.” I sat on the settee as Hymel closed the study door, folding my hands in the lap of my plain, cream-hued gown.
“Would you like some coffee?” he asked as he picked up a small cup.
“No, thank you.” The last thing my jumpy stomach needed was caffeine.
“You sure?” Claude took a small, rather delicate sip of coffee. “You look tired.”
“It was a . . . late night,” I said.
Claude raised a dark brow. “And a tiring one?”
I watched Hymel cross over to the credenza, a smirk plastered across his lips. “Somewhat. I . . . I didn’t expect to meet a Hyhborn when I entered his chambers.”
“Oh.” He frowned. “Did I not tell you he was a Hyhborn?”
“No,” I stated flatly.
“Good gods, I thought I did. I was . . .” He exhaled slowly. “I was a bit deep in my cups last night.”
And then some.
“My deepest apologies, Lis. I truly thought I had told you he was a lord.” He sounded genuine, but at the moment, I didn’t care. “But did you enjoy yourself?”
“I did,” I answered, feeling a bit of warmth creep up my throat.
“Of course you did.” He drank from his cup. “Tell me, is it true what they say? Are Hyhborn lords hung like— ” He glanced at Hymel, brow scrunching. “What do they say?”
“They say they’re hung like their stallions,” Hymel told him, having poured himself a glass of whiskey.
“Ah yes.” Claude’s brow smoothed out. “That. Dying to know.”
I wasn’t sure why Claude needed to ask for clarification on that saying. Besides the fact that it was a rather common, crass one, he was part Hyhborn. Caelestias were quite well-endowed in that area. “I believe it would be a somewhat close comparison.”
Pale skin crinkled at the corners of his eyes as he laughed. “Look at you,” he purred. “Blushing.”
Forcing a slow breath in and then out, I pictured one of those stallions crashing through the study and trampling the Baron. And Hymel. Just a little. My smile returned.
“As much as I would love to hear all about what brought that blush to your cheeks, that will have to wait,” Claude continued. “What did you two speak of?”
“We spoke of where he was from, but not in any great detail.”
“And?”
I eyed him. “Do you know who he is? More than just his name?”
Claude raised a brow. “All I know is his name, which is why I sent you, my pet. I assume he’s some lord the King keeps close at the capital.”
“He’s not just some lord,” I told him. “He’s not even a lord, Claude. He’s the Prince of Vytrus.”
“Holy shit,” Hymel rasped, eyes widening.
The Baron lowered his mug to his thigh. “Are you sure?”
Why did everyone keep asking me that? “Yes, I’m positive. He is the Prince of Vytrus.”
“My gods, why in the realm would he come here?” Claude exclaimed.
“He’s not here to collect any tithes,” I shared.
“No shit,” Claude murmured, settling the mug onto the desk, likely staining the wood with a ring. I didn’t even know why I was thinking about that, but it was a shame to damage such beautiful wood.
“I thought you’d be more relieved,” I ventured.
“I would be, but I’m far more concerned about having such a brute in the manor.” His throat bobbed. “When the King is displeased, it is usually the Prince of Vytrus who is sent to rectify the situation, and by rectifying, I do mean spilling copious amounts of blood.”