The Threshold
Dinner in the Great Hall had been a nightmare.
Lord Ethan had stared at me like a butcher evaluating a pig. Baroness Alice had dropped a subtle insult about my rough hands every ten minutes. I barely managed to swallow three bites of roast chicken before my stomach twisted into tight knots.
Now the heavy oak door of my private bedchamber clicked shut behind us.
Cassian immediately walked the perimeter of the dark room. He checked the iron lock on the door. He checked the wooden shutters on the glass window. His movements were slow and heavy.
Dark purple circles hung deep under his amber eyes. He had not slept a full hour since the assassin attacked us three nights ago.
"The room is clear Arianna," Cassian said, turning to face me.
He walked over to the wooden door and
