His meaning was unmistakable. He spoke with the casual cruelty of a bully who enjoyed tormenting someone unable to fight back.
Count Vissan immediately took an angry step forward, but Lina pinched his arm before he could act. She then loosened the cloak and carefully lowered her head, allowing her pale hair to fall around her face. At the same time, she caught hold of the count's hand and squeezed it firmly, silently urging him not to lose his temper.
She didn't know whether her plan would work, but she needed to prevent a fight at all costs. There were too many unknowns, and she had no intention of gambling her life on the count's pride.
A moment later, torches flared in the darkness, flooding the road with harsh, yellow light. Lina squinted as her eyes adjusted, and through the gaps in her hair, she caught a glimpse of the people surrounding them.
There were at least a hundred men.
