A muscle in her jaw quivered. “I thought you were hungry.” She moved the platter closer to him and selected a slice of cheese for herself.
While she ate, he gathered up the stones in his gloved hand. “Red, black, and the number two. What future did these foretell?”
She swallowed. “It was simply a game to keep us entertained.”
His fist closed around the pebbles. “Then there’s no harm in telling me.”
She studied his face for a moment, then nodded slowly. “All right, then. When I drew those three stones, I said in two weeks I would meet a tall and handsome stranger with red hair and a black horse.”
Damn. He set the stones down, gazing at them in wonder. “They told the truth.”
She gave him a dubious look. “Only if I actually consider you tall and handsome.”
He arched a brow at her.
Her mouth twitched as she plucked a grape off the platter. “Well, you are tall.”
“You think I’m handsome.”
“Do I?” She popped the grape in her mouth.
“Yes, you do. You were staring at me the first time we saw each other.”
“I was staring because the prediction had come true.”
“Ah. So you do think me tall and handsome.”
“I don’t think it.” She picked up another piece of cheese. “I know it.”
He grinned. “I knew you were exceptionally intelligent.” She smiled back, and he ran his fingers over the three stones. “It seems like a fun game. May I have a turn?”
She nodded as she ate.
He pointed at each stone in turn. “A beautiful woman with black hair will meet a man with red hair—make that a tall and handsome man with red hair.”
When she snorted, he picked up the stone with the number two. “This means the two will become one.” He set it down and looked at her. “Is that a future you can accept?”
Her cheeks grew pink, and she fiddled with her cup of wine. “I—perhaps.” She winced as she glanced toward the bed.
“Something wrong?”
“No.” She took a drink of wine.
“You were hoping I could bed you now?”
She sputtered, her eyes watering as she coughed.
He hesitated, wondering if it was safe to pat her on the back. With her gown and his gloves, there were two layers of insulation. Tentatively, he touched her. Her coughing continued unabated. No shock, then.
He patted her.
“I’m all right.” She wiped her eyes.
He let his hand rest on her back.
She drew a deep breath. “I could use more wine.”
“Of course.” He stood to grab the wine bottle from across the table, then sat again to refill their cups. “Ana, I need you to be extra careful until we catch the third assassin.”
“Do you have any idea who he is?”
“I’m having someone watched.” Leo suspected Father Rune, but it would be hard to prove at this point. They knew the assassin was wounded, but the young priest had a nasty habit of inflicting wounds on himself. “Whoever he is, he’s extremely dangerous. He broke into the dungeons and killed the first assassin and the two jailers there.”
She nodded, and he realized she wasn’t surprised by the news.
“You already knew?”
“I … heard.” Her gaze shifted toward the bed. “Were there any clues left behind? Can you do like before and use your dog to track down the killer?”
“You mean Brody? He-he’s on another mission right now.”
Her eyes widened. “You send your dog on missions?”
Leo winced inwardly and decided to change the subject. “Your father is arranging the funeral for this afternoon. It should be happening soon, but I would prefer that you not attend. It will be hard enough to keep your father safe. We’ll have to keep him surrounded and insist he wear a helmet.”
“I understand.”
“How do you conduct your funerals here at Vindemar?”
A look of alarm glinted in her eyes. “Oh, th-the usual way.” Her gaze darted toward the bed, and she quietly fiddled with the grapes before turning to him. “The dead are burned on pyres along the cliffs overlooking the sea, then the bones are interred in the catacombs.”
That wasn’t the usual way for the rest of Eberon. Leo had a strange feeling that she’d just repeated the answer word for word.
Her gaze shot toward the bed once more. “It’s a shame no one can talk to the ghosts of the dead jailers. The ghosts would know the identity of the man who killed them.”
“An interesting strategy,” Leo murmured. But for whom was she suggesting it?
Her jaw shifted as if she was annoyed by something, then she turned toward him. “I have a question for you.”
“Go ahead.”
Her eyes narrowed as she watched him closely. “Did you have Captain Bougaire killed?”
Leo sat back. “What? I banished him. That’s all.”
She continued to study him. “You didn’t order someone to kill him?”
“No. As far as I know he’s—” Leo leaned toward her. “Are you saying he’s dead?”
She nodded. “You seem genuinely surprised.”
“I am. I told you I wouldn’t kill him, and I kept my word.”
She sighed, a flicker of relief crossing her face. “I didn’t think you could have done it.”
Leo tensed. How could she know that the captain was dead? And if he was dead, did that mean someone had murdered him to keep him from talking? Had Captain Bastard told the truth, and the woman sitting with him now was an imposter?