Illyria stupidly thought she could swing her hand against a mercenary, as if he were the footman of her mansion, expecting him to bow to her authority.
Slash.
Steel bit through flesh. Illyria crumpled to the floor.
Lorraine winced. Barking orders at mercenaries? Ugh. What did she expect?
But that was not the only foolish thing she did.
"Boys! Get to her! Lorraine—protect them!" Illyria cried, her voice raw with desperation as she bled out.
The mercenaries halted for a beat, eyes narrowing. They exchanged glances, blades tightening in their grip, realizing there was another presence in the library.
One of them turned his head, gaze cutting through the gap in the shelves until it landed squarely on Lorraine.
Damn. Lorraine swore under her breath, jaw tightening. Trust that stupid mistress to drag her name into this at the worst possible moment!
"I see her," the man growled to the others. "You get them. I'll handle her."
