Page 73 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

I incline my head. “Perhaps you should.”

She withdraws with perfect grace, the rustle of her skirts fading down the hallway. I wait until I’m certain she’s gone before addressing Tenyt. “Take the south passage. Avoid being seen by anyone not in my service.”

“Yes, Your Lordship.” He hesitates. “And if I am seen?”

“Then ensure whoever sees you doesn’t live to report it.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he nods. Good man. He’ll go far in my service, assuming we all survive the next few days.

Now that my message to Vazor is safely on its way, I force myself to make the rounds through Starfrost Manor. Everything must appear normal—more than normal. Perfect. Any deviation from the expected might alert Jonyk’s people that something is amiss.

The ballroom gleams with ice and silver, blue-white Caixlights floating near the ceiling like captured stars. Ramira directs a team of servants arranging tables along the walls, each surface to be laden with delicacies for our Icecaix guests.

“Everything appears to be in order,” I say to the housemaid, who preens at the praise. “Though perhaps more light near the entrance? We wouldn’t want our guests stumbling in the darkness.”

As if any Icecaix would be so graceless. But it’s the sort of thing a proper host would notice, would comment upon. Another piece in this elaborate performance.

I’m almost to the door when Baron Svalkat’s voice drifts in from the hallway. “My, my. What have we here?”

My hand freezes on the doorframe. Through the gap, I see Svalkat has cornered Lara as she attempts to carry a tray of wine glasses to the ballroom. His gaze roves over her in a way that makes frost crackle beneath my fingers.

“Pardon me, sir.” Lara’s voice is carefully neutral as she tries to step around him. “I need to deliver these.”

He shifts to block her path. “No need to hurry.” His tongue flicksout. “I’ve been watching you, you know. Such an interesting addition to the household.”

I should walk away. Should let this play out naturally. Any intervention will raise questions I can’t afford right now. But my feet remain rooted in place as Svalkat leans closer to Lara.

“I wonder,” he muses, reaching out to toy with a loose strand of her hair, “what our dear duke sees in you. Perhaps I should investigate myself.”

The wine glasses on Lara’s tray rattle as she jerks away from his touch. “Don’t.”

“Oh, come now.” He crowds her against the wall, his shadow engulfing her smaller frame. “Surely you’ve learned to be accommodating in your position. After all, that’s what pets are for, isn’t it?”

Ice crawls up the door frame beneath my hand. I force myself to breathe slowly, to maintain control.

But when Svalkat’s hand drifts toward Lara’s face, something in me snaps.

“Baron.” My voice cuts through the air between us. “I believe Prince Jonyk’s advance guard wished to speak with you about security arrangements.”

Svalkat turns, his expression so falsely innocent it makes my jaw ache. “Did they? How fascinating.” His hand drops away from Lara, but he doesn’t step back. “Though surely it can wait a few moments while I become better acquainted with your charming servant.”

“It cannot.” Frost spreads across the floor from my feet, creeping toward him in delicate spirals. “Unless you wish me to inform His Highness that his safety is less important than your diversions?”

Now he does step back, though his smile remains fixed. “Of course not, Your Lordship. I merely thought?—”

“Don’t.” The temperature in the hallway plummets. “Don’t think. Don’t touch. Don’t even look in her direction again.” Each word emerges accompanied by a puff of frozen breath. “Am I clear?”

Something ugly flashes in his eyes, there and gone too quickly to name. “Perfectly clear.” He sketches a bow that manages to be bothprecise and mocking.

I let my power flare, just enough to remind him exactly whose domain he stands in. “The advance guard, Baron Svalkat. Now.”

He withdraws, though not before casting one last lingering look at Lara. I wait until his footsteps fade before turning to her. “Are you all right?”

She nods jerkily, though her hands still tremble where they grip the tray. “I’m fine. I should get these to the ballroom.”

“Lara.” Her name emerges softer than intended, and I see her shoulders tense. “If he bothers you again?—”

“I’ll handle it.” She finally meets my gaze, and something in her eyes makes my chest ache. “Unless that would get me hanged for disloyalty?”

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