His eyes blazed in a face gone white with fury. “I knew you weren’t Cumbria’s ward.” The words, icy and sharp, sent chills down Martise’s arms. She retreated as he stalked her. “A servant, yes. A unique and educated one. But a slave?” He lashed out, kicked the only stool across the room so that it smashed into the opposite wall. Two of the legs split with a loud crack. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he snarled. The cords in his neck tightened, skin flushing so that the circlet of scar tissue stood out in a pale band.
