Free Mist-Torn 01 - The Mist-Torn Witches by Barb Hendee

alarm.
    “Lieutenant,” the beautiful chestnut-haired woman admonished. “Really.”
    Anton cast Jaromir a dark look and then seemed to find his own manners. He motioned to the woman. “Please allow me to present my aunt, the Lady Karina.”
    Céline hid her surprise. Karina couldn’t be more than six years older than Anton. Up close, she was even more stunning, with a slender face and exotic slanted eyes. With little idea what a proper response might be, Céline simply bowed her head again. “My lady.”
    Karina smiled. “Anton has told me of your kind offer of…assistance. I am so glad for your presence here, and I must say you come as a surprise. I had no idea what to expect. You look lovely in that gown, my dear.”
    Céline was slightly taken aback, both at the lady’s somewhat diplomatic use of the term “assistance” and at her open honesty about not having known what to expect and the kindness in her voice. She seemed sincere.
    “Thank you for the gown, my lady,” she answered. “I understand you had it sent.”
    “Well, I had two of them…” Lady Karina trailed off helplessly as she looked to Amelie, who stared right back.
    “And this is Master Feodor,” Anton put in quickly, gesturing to the slender man with the long mustache, “our court physician.”
    “Charmed,” said Master Feodor, but his tone hardly suggested he was charmed in the slightest. Céline disliked him right away. He struck her as…oily.
    Inna had moved a little closer to Anton’s shoulder and was glaring at Céline with poorly disguised hatred. What in the world was wrong with that young woman?
    A gong sounded throughout hall, echoing off the stone walls.
    “The meal is ready,” Anton said, sounding relieved, as if he realized this small, rather mixed party would not be capable of making polite conversation.
    But that was also when Céline noticed that Anton had not been the only man staring at her. Pavel’s mouth was slightly parted, his eyes fixed on her as well.
    She wanted to sigh. This entire event hardly felt like a good start to a murder investigation.
    Pavel was just as tall as she remembered, but he was clean and dry now, and the brown tunic he wore suited his tan face and cropped dark hair.
    To her surprise, he stepped forward and offered his arm. “This way,” he said.
    Anton frowned but said nothing.
    At a loss, Céline took Pavel’s arm. He led her to the second table and then motioned her to a place on the bench. He sat on one side of her, while Amelie sat on the other.
    Anton, Jaromir, Lady Karina, and Master Feodor all sat at the first table, up on the dais, with Anton in the center. Inna did not sit down, but rather stood behind Anton, again looking like a dog waiting for an order.
    It seemed within moments, the tables were full of seated guests, most of whom were dressed in the gowns or quilted tunics of merchants or minor nobles, but there did seem an unusual number of pretty girls in their late teens among the families.
    “Look at all this,” Amelie whispered, gesturing to the food on the table, as if impressed in spite of herself.
    “That’s just the first course,” Pavel said, and thenadded, “But we don’t eat like this every night, only when my lord calls for a banquet.”
    The spread laid out before them was indeed impressive, with long trenchers of mutton with gravy, roasted potatoes, and greens. Loaves of steaming white bread were abundant. Bowls filled with spring strawberries were being passed around, and everyone’s goblet was kept full of red wine.
    Without hesitation, Amelie took a gulp of wine and dove right into the mutton. Céline was a bit more stringent, especially with the wine, but she’d hardly taken two bites when a hoard of fresh servants came through the hall’s entrance carrying huge trays of roasted turkeys over their heads—two for each table.
    “Second course,” Pavel said, taking a swallow of wine.
    Céline had never seen anything like this. She wondered what