Meera froze. She would have rubbed her ears to make sure they were functioning properly, but she found she simply couldn’t lift her hands. It was all she could do to allow them to remain by her sides and shake.
“My niece sees too much,” Albert said sharply.
“She sees too much of what, my lord?”
“Things you don’t need to know about,” Albert said shortly. “If you want to make it as clean as possible, slay her, then blame it on that new lad. Kill him afterward.” He paused. “Odd, isn’t it, that name? Damion?”
“Very odd,” Slaidear agreed.
“I wonder . . . nay, the one I’m thinking of would never find himself laboring in a barn. Now, if you haven’t the stomach to see to this yourself, trot off to the village and find someone to do it for you. I’m off to sell a horse.”
Meera started forward
