“You have done well by your people, my lady.”

Nemissa nodded, watching as Fletcher picked up his cup. He ate, drank, much like any other being. Other than the oddities of his appearance, she wouldn’t have called him undead. “I have been left with the best of tools to do well by.”

“No one has answered me about what happened to the Baron of Castlehaven.”

In an instant, Nemissa felt her breath leave her. A subject she had never thought to speak of again, brought up by this stranger. He appeared to notice how his lack of decorum affected her.

“I apologize. That was improper of me, nor any of my business.”

“I suppose it is curious, a baroness without her baron.” Her reply was nearly breathless. She should have had more control then that, but for some reason she didn’t. For some reason it hurt all over again, right when she couldn’t afford for it to. Not with anyone around.

Fletcher hesitated. “More that your son has no father. My apologies. Again, it is none of my business. And it certainly has had no outwardly ill affect on your heir. He is a delightful child.”

Nemissa could breathe again. “That he is. I almost don’t deserve him.”

The undead chuckled. “Almost?”

“I am the Baroness of Castlehaven.”

“Ah. Good point.”