“Oh. Oh, I don’t think—you don’t need to call me mistress, Archer. I’m not the lady of the house.” “Yes, you are.” The words sent a bolt of panic through me. Fisher was behind me, and he’d heard every word. “No other will ever claim this seat.” He said it matter-of-factly, drawing out the chair in question, gesturing for me to sit down. “From now on, you are Lady of Cahlish.”
