Page 112 of A Fate so Cruel

A small disbelieving smile. “I didn’t realize your lot knew the term. Do be sure to visit the spa. It has excellent skin healing properties.”

“I’ll do that.”

Foley’s hand left his pocket and went for the inside of his dress tunic. Rion’s eyes darted toward the movement, but themale held his other hand up in mock surrender. “Just a private invitation,” the male assured before holding out an envelope with a thick wax seal depicting a crow.

Rion met his gaze, wondering if it were a taunt. Foley gave nothing away.

After a moment’s hesitation, Rion took the envelope and the male continued. “All those of significance will be there, the governor included. Can I assure him he need not worry about a repeat of the things that happened in Fernsworth?”

Rion opened his mouth, but a light voice interrupted. “There you are.” Both males turned toward Selina as she half jogged toward them dressed in a pair of light tan shorts and a white top. She wore a necklace depicting a starfish and dangling earrings with sea turtles at the ends. “How are we supposed to get dinner if you’re out sightseeing?”

Selina slipped her arm through his and pressed herself close, no doubt sensing the distressing nature of the conversation. She’d likely seen the crowd and had come running.

Foley’s shock wasn’t feigned. His lips parted and his gaze wandered down her form and back up before taking careful note of the way her arm was looped through Rion’s.

Rion offered her a disarming smile. “My apologies, I ran into an old,” he paused and made a show of looking the male up and down, “acquaintance.”

“Oh.” She looked Foley over as if she were just seeing him for the first time. “Do you mind if I steal him back?”

The male sketched a bow and smiled. An evil wicked thing full of dark promises. Rion had seen the same look on Foley’s face after the male had successfully poisoned an entire village of innocents. They hadn’t gone peacefully.

“Not at all.” He stepped back. “Perhaps we’ll meet you and your . . . friend?” Selina tilted her head into Rion, but didn’t speak. “After the event.”

“We’ll see,” Rion replied.

The male inclined his head to Selina. “It was a pleasure,” he waited.

“Selina,” she offered.

“Selina.” The male tasted her name, savoring it as though it were a fine wine. “I was just inviting the young lord to an exclusive after party. I hope you’ll both attend. Things tend to take a more . . . pleasantly heated turn after hours.” He made another show of looking her up and down. Rion clenched his fists. Selina pinched his arm.

They most certainly wouldn’t be joining anything of the sort. The thought of anything heated with Foley in the same room was enough to make Rion’s stomach churn.

Foley turned away first, then Selina tugged on Rion’s sleeve and guided him back toward the inn in silence. Both glanced over their shoulders and into the shadowed alcoves.

“You should have waited for me,” he said.

“I did, then I got bored and when I saw the crowd, I thought you might need a little help.”

“You just painted a target on your back.”

She shrugged. “I did that the moment I recruited you.” She glanced back again. “Who was that anyway?”

“Someone who should be behind bars.”

“Your doing?”

“Saoirse’s, though I was there. He’s the original creator of the poison.”

Selina cringed. “Well, I guess we know we’re in the right place then.”

“He’ll be keeping a close eye on me. If I’d known he was involved—”

“There’s no way you could have, especially if you thought he was locked up.”

“He talked as if Saoirse already knew . . .”

“Maybe she does.”

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