Phelan took a sip, but his gaze found mine again. “I remember everything.”

I had to break our stare first. My skin warmed when I thought about how I had touched him last night, how he had seen my bare back, how he had asked me to stay with him.

“I need to tell you something, Anna.”

I braced myself. Surely, his mother had convinced him to dismiss me, and I waited for it to come, for Phelan to let me go. He set his teacup in its saucer. He was drawing this out, to no doubt make me nervous.

“What is it, Phelan?” I asked, impatient.

“I’m going away,” he said.

I gaped at him, unable to hide my shock. “To where?”

“I can’t tell you. But I’ll return in a week or so, and I need you to remain here. To record the nightmares that may emerge and to give the portion of dream tax to the duke’s collector, who will be arriving any day now to claim it. I also need you to discreetly pass on a payment to a friend. You will note that there is a purse with a red ribbon in the safe, where I store the money. When they stop by to ‘borrow a book,’ I need you to ensure they receive that money.”

I was quiet so long that he frowned, concerned.

“Anna?”

“Yes, I will do these things for you,” I said, inwardly shaking myself. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

“This must be a trip of great importance, since you should be at home, recovering in bed.”

He refused to answer, returning his attention to his stack of papers. I sensed that his mother had given him this order.

And then the realization hit me like a strike to my body, and I turned to the window quickly, before Phelan could see the emotion ripple across my face.

I knew where he was going.

Hereswith.

24

Three days after Phelan departed, Lord Deryn called.

I found him waiting in the library, standing before Phelan’s bookcase, intently studying the volumes on one of the shelves. He pivoted when he heard me enter, a well-practiced smile on his face.

I smelled the bergamot of his cologne. A sickly sweetness, mingling with that odd scent of molded parchment. And I knew he was here for me, not the tax.

“Miss Neven. It is good to see you again.”

“Your Grace,” I said with a curtsy.

“Forgive me for calling so unexpectedly, but I wanted to speak to you. Please, sit.”

I obediently lowered myself into the chair, but my dread kindled. A few spells rose to mind, in case I needed to cast them on a whim.

“I wanted to inquire about this last new moon,” he began, taking Phelan’s seat behind the desk. “Was it my nightmare that materialized?”

“No, Your Grace.”