His words were not making me feel any better. In fact, this whole thing was making me more distraught than before we arrived. “Maybe Lissa’s name was the mistake, not mine.” They weren’t comforting words to my ears, but they were a possibility that I felt should be voiced.
“I wondered that as well, and I’ve put out inquiries to the proper channels. But so far, there is no record of an Isabeau Finne being Sióg.”
A look flickered across his face, gone as quickly as it had shown up, a war between hardness and tenderness tangoing through him. “I don’t have any other answers for you, yet. My agenda held the name of Lissa Ingersoll, as did Liam’s thereafter. The Lanmhuchadh’s order had your name on it. If it had been otherwise, he wouldn’t have performed his end, and you wouldn’t be here now.
