“Your father has forfeit his life through his own actions. I am here to carry out his sentence. You, however, have a vested interest in what happens next,” Rezkin said.

“That is preposterous!” Ruald shouted. “My father may be devious, crude, arrogant, and a terrible philanderer, but nothing he has done would warrant death. And, who are you to carry out such an act? You have no such authority!”

“Unfortunately for your father, you are wrong on both accounts.” Rezkin drew a sealed letter from the tunic beneath his armor—expensive, quality armor, from what the young lord could see. He held the letter out for the young lord to take.

Ruald hesitated for several moments, his eyes captivated by the small paper. Dread filled him as he realized that this letter must contain some proof of his father’s alleged misdeeds. Finally, he forced his feet to move across the seemingly endless expanse of the sitting room and gingerly accepted the proffered missive. The letter was warm and innocuous from the outside, but he feared the demons that must lie within its crisp folds.

As he read through the message, Ruald’s face drained of color and his stomach lurched. He stumbled back until his legs struck a chair, into which he dropped like a stone. Rezkin strode to the sidebar and poured the man a drink, passing it to him as he returned to stand before the hearth. Ruald seemed barely to notice as he absently accepted the snifter.

“I … I did not …” the young lord stammered. His confused and distant gaze found the shadowed face of the intruder as he whispered, “Lillian.” He gulped and averted his eyes, returning to the words on the page, but this time he did not see them. He could not through the tears that threatened to fall. “She came here for me. He said … he said he wanted to see if she and I were a match. He spoke of a possible betrothal.”

Rezkin waited a few minutes before speaking. Eventually, he said, “Your father is going to die tonight. There will be no debate on that issue.” Pausing, he watched for the young lord’s reaction. Ruald looked up at him and swallowed but did not argue.