Whatever exchange they were having finished as Kit sliced his hand through the air, silencing whatever Uilleam thought to say next. While Lawrence had seemed to quake at the thought of upsetting Uilleam, Kit didn’t seem to feel such fear.
“Excuse us, Luna,” he said, looking from his brother to her, the colorful accent that marked his words drawing the syllables of her name out. “Continue as you were.”
The pair walked off without another word, leaving her standing there looking after them. Once they were out of sight, however, she quickly turned back the way she came and closed herself into her room, thinking it was probably best to stay out of sight.
And because she was still tired from the journey and her lack of sleep, Luna made sure each of the doors to the room was locked before she climbed up onto the bed and willed herself to sleep.
It wasn’t until hours later that Luna came awake with a start, sitting bolt upright as her eyes scanned the room. In her delirium, it all came rushing back.
The auction.
Her life being sold to a man that seemed a conundrum.
And Kit.
There was also Kit.
A minute at most she had spent in his presence and she still felt … affected by him. But her interest in him, and even his brother, was not sexual. She could admit that they were both handsome, more so than most men she had ever seen in her short life, but she didn’t feel any desire toward them.
She didn’t think she could feel desire at all, not after everything she had been through.
Mostly, she was curious.
Curious how a man as young as Uilleam could spark subservience in men like Lawrence. He was just so young, only old enough to be her older brother, yet he seemed fearless, content in the knowledge that he would get his way.
And then there was Kit.
What did it say about the man who wasn’t afraid of the one everyone seemed to fear?
Did that mean he was worse?
But she couldn’t possibly answer that question, not when she wasn’t even sure what Uilleam was made of.
Not entirely.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Luna wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she had watched the pair of brothers walk away, but she guessed several hours since the room was dark, and the sunlight that had shone through the French doors was now absent as the moon hung heavy in the night sky.
Her stomach rumbling from the lack of food, she made a stop in the bathroom, washing her face free of the remaining traces of makeup she had worn. Looking at her reflection now, she still looked haggard, her eyes a little too sunken, her skin a touch too pale, but beneath that layer, she saw a glimmer of hope.
Even if foolish, she clung to it.
After her last encounter with him, she wasn’t sure she wanted to run into Kit again. He had seemed rather … agitated, and even if it were aimed more at Uilleam than her, she thought it best to avoid him entirely.
Maybe one of the guards could find her Uilleam instead.
Venturing back out, this time she didn’t linger in the hall to look over the portraits, moving on well past them, though her gaze, unbidden, had flitted to Kit’s before she hit the foyer.
It was quiet here, barren. And despite all the men she had seen earlier walking the grounds, either they were very good at what they did, or this place was bigger than she had originally suspected.
The marble flooring was cold beneath her feet as she came into what looked like a formal dining room, with a table that stretched nearly wall to wall, a place setting in from of each of the eighteen chairs. But there was only one setting at the head of the table that had a set of glasses accompanying it, as well as forks and knives.
And the closer she walked toward it, the better she could smell whatever was cooking in the kitchen. The aroma made her mouth water, her stomach tightening with hunger. Besides the nibbles of the sandwich she’d eaten on the plane, she hadn’t had much else over the last twenty-four hours or so.
She would need to ask permission first before she touched anything. Back at the estate, Luna had never been able to eat freely—offered only two meals a day, and only if she performed good enough to deserve them.
In the beginning, Luna had gone days without eating.
“Luna, is it?” A voice called from behind her.
A woman with flowing light blonde hair stood across the room, eyes trained on Luna as she dropped the hand she held her phone in to her side.
She wasn’t what Luna was expecting.
Just the sight of her made Luna feel inadequate. Her hair shone in the dim light of the room, makeup was expertly applied, and there was nothing cheap about the skirt and blouse set she wore. She could have been early to late twenties for all Luna could tell—there wasn’t an imperfection on her.
“I—yes, I was looking for Uil—the Kingmaker,” she quickly corrected herself, wishing she hadn’t stammered through that entire sentence.
The woman’s smile was patient. “He’s stepped out at the moment, but I’m sure I can assist you with whatever you need. I’m Aidra.”