Uhleksis could still smell the jasmine in the air, could still feel the cool breeze brushing against her skin.
But it was the look in Ohtis Marcelo's eyes that stayed with her most vividly. He had been nervous, unsure, the perfect mark for her schemes.
It had all started with a simple letter, an invitation delivered to his door. He hadn't known what awaited him, but he had come nonetheless. Uhleksis had made sure of that.
Ohtis stood beneath the shadow of the garden's towering statues, his face half-lit by the moon.
He had never been a particularly handsome man, his nose too large, his lips too thin, but his position in court had afforded him some respect.
However, all that paled in comparison to his unhealthy fixation on Ireen Montclair.
Uhleksis had known of his obsession for months, watching the way his gaze lingered on Ireen during royal gatherings, the way he stumbled over his words whenever she passed by. He was a fool, blinded by lust.
