Chapter Sixteen
Watching Francesca stumble back to the house, Ran-Del thought she looked like she herself had been in an accident. Soot and ash covered the silvery gown she wore, and a few streaks of blood stained the hem where she had knelt by D’Persis’ body. Her face still had the rigid look of someone numb from shock.
The man Francesca called the butler approached her, a group of anxious-looking servants behind him. “I’m sorry, Baroness,” he said. “The security staff have been over the wreckage. There’s—there’s almost nothing left.”
Francesca seemed to pull herself up as he spoke, almost like someone had yanked on a string attached to the top of her head. “I expected that.” She sounded brisk enough, but Ran-Del could feel the crushing weight of her grief. “You take care of that for me, please, Chien,” she went on, “and have someone call a doctor for Miss Palli. They’re taking her to her room. Send someone to sit with her until the doctor comes.”
He bowed, and she headed for the house, Ran-Del trailing in her wake. What would happen now that Stefan Hayden was dead?
Ran-Del paused, struck by a grim thought. Had Great-grandfather seen this death and said nothing?
The Sixth Discipline Page 58