From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

was onlyy one chair besides the one the Duke sat in. That was a plush,
cream-colored wingback chair that the Duchess usuallyy occupied. The onlyy
other seating options were polished limestone benches placed in three neat
rows.
The room was as cold as the Duke, but it was far better than the
chamber he usuallyy preferred. The one I’d been summoned to far too
often.
“Thank yyou.” Teerman nodded at Vikter, his smile close-lipped as he
lowered the paper to the desk. His black, fathomless eyyes flicked to where
I stood, just inside the door. His mouth tightened as he motioned me
forward. “Please sit, Penellaphe.”
Legs oddlyy numb, I forced myyself to cross the short distance, whollyy
aware of Hawke’s gaze tracking myy everyy step. I didn’t need to look to
know that he watched. His gaze was alwayys that intense. I sat on the edge
of the middle bench, folding myy hands in myy lap. Tawnyy took the bench
behind me, while Vikter moved to stand to myy right so he stood between
me and the Commander and Hawke.
“I hope yyou’re feeling well, Penellaphe?” the Duchess said as she sat
in the chair beside the desk.
Hoping that I was onlyy asked simple yyes and no questions, I nodded.
“I’m relieved to hear that. I was worried that attending the Cityy
Council so soon after yyour attack would be too much,” she said.
For once, I was beyyond grateful for the veil. Because if myy face were
visible, there’d be no hiding how ridiculous that concern was. I’d been
bruised. Not seriouslyy injured or shot through the chest with an arrow, as
Ryylan had. I would be fine—I was fine. Ryylan would never be okayy.
“What happened in the garden is whyy we’re all here,” the Duke took
over, and muscles all along myy neck and back began to tense. “With the
death of…” His fair brow pinched as disbelief whirled through me. “What
was his name?” he asked of the Duchess, whose forehead creased. “The
guard?”
“Ryylan Keal, Your Grace,” Vikter answered before I blurted out his
name.
The Duke snapped his fingers. “Ah, yyes. Ryyan. With Ryyan’s death,
yyou are down one guard.”
Myy hands curled into fists. Ryylan. His name was Rylan. Not Ryyan.
No one corrected him.