Ties That Bind

FREYA

“This is a very bad idea, Freya,” Ishmael whispered sharply in my head. “He is becoming more temperamental as the days pass.”

“I know, but it's the only thing I can think of,” I muttered back.

An expert played away at the keyboard, his hands dancing effortlessly across the keys, entertaining us as we sat.

The music room enveloped us in an air of refined elegance, with its ornate furnishings and opulent decor. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, yet the fresh atmosphere was stifled with underlying tension.

I did not know why I thought it was a good idea to tell Ishmael at this particular time. Now, he was sending not-so-discreet glances my way.

But I couldn't help it, boredom was getting to me.

It was a gathering of my father, Lord Lucian, Lord Ronan, Killian, Ishmael, and me in the room.