"We're just humble frontier lords. What can we possibly do against the might of the Inquisition and the will of our Marquis?"
Ashlynn smiled slightly and tipped the brim of her cavalier hat in Loghlan's direction as he delivered her the perfectly articulated position she needed to destroy in order to take control of the Lothian Court.
For a moment, her eyes flicked over the faces of the men and women sitting at the High Table, taking in their expressions and reading the set of their jaws, the rhythm of their breathing, and the motion of their eyes, the way Marcel and Nyri had taught her to.
Most were on edge. Too many of the women at the table were holding themselves back in fear. Some of that fear, Ashlynn could forgive. She'd lived most of her life in fear of the Inquisition. It was the furtive glances a few of the women gave their husbands, however, that poured fuel on the fire burning in her heart.
