“You’ve felt that way,” he said, looking at his father and seeing a man capable of playing those kinds of games. Seeing a man who
had
played those games. But not out of cruelty or rage. Saetan had played those games out of desire.
“I never looked at Hekatah and thought,
Mine,
which should have told me the truth about her feelings and my own.”
Daemon hesitated, but curiosity pushed aside caution. “Sylvia?”
Saetan closed his eyes. “Yes, Sylvia. There were a few times while we were lovers when she came to my bed and . . .” He swallowed hard.
A feeling in the room. They both had to step away from it, shake it off. For now. But he would have to circle around the subject with Jaenelle and find out if she’d found the Sadist thrilling or frightening. If she’d found him thrilling . . .
Step back, fool, before you become a danger to everyone around you.
Since he could see Saetan trying to shake off the feeling as well, he cast around for something else to talk about.
“Where’s Theran?”
A flash of amusement from Saetan. “I sent him down to the village. With Vae.”
“Vae?” Daemon stared at his father. “You sent him to Halaway with
Vae
?”
“Yes.”
“The young Sceltie who’s such a managing little bitch that Khary used up every favor owed him in order to get her out of his own village for a month?”
“That’s the one.”
“You sent
her
with a man who doesn’t know anything about Scelties or kindred?”
“Yes, I did.”
Daemon swallowed the sudden tickle in his throat. “That was mean.”
Saetan smiled. “I know.”
As he thought about Theran trying to cope with any Sceltie, let alone Vae, Daemon staggered back a couple of steps, hit the wall—and filled the room with laughter.
By the time dinner was half-over, Theran missed being around Vae. At least with the nippy little bitch, he had a clear idea of where he stood. Sitting across from Jaenelle Angelline, with her husband and her father the only other people sitting at the table, he felt like he was walking on a knife’s edge. Say too much or sound too flattering and he would be stepping on Sadi’s territorial toes. Say too little and he would be condemned by the father for his lack of courtesy.
Either way, it wasn’t making dinner sit easy. And Lady Angelline’s refusal to say anything about her meeting wasn’t helping his digestion. Neither was the way she looked at him, as if she knew something about him that amused her.
When the fruit and cheese arrived at the end of the meal, along with squares of thick chocolate and coffee, Saetan said, “All right, witch-child. Share the joke. What is it about Prince Theran that you find so funny?”
“Prince Theran has some traditional tastes,” Jaenelle said with a sweetness that made Theran’s palms sweat. “Apparently he has the same resistance toward women wearing short hair and trousers that you do.”
Hell’s fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful.
Saetan gave Jaenelle a pointed look. “I don’t recall making any comment about your hair.”
Jaenelle pursed her lips. “That’s true. You’ve never been
that
rigid in your preferences.”
Two pairs of gold eyes fixed on Theran, and he was really hoping there was a house rule that guests were not executed at the dinner table.
“But like you,” Jaenelle continued, “Theran will have to develop some flexibility and learn how to compromise.”
“Is that what I did?” Saetan asked.
“Yes, Papa, that’s what you did.”
“I’m delighted to hear it.”
She laughed, and Theran watched in a kind of wonder as the sound completely relaxed two violent and powerful men.
Then those sapphire eyes looked into his. “There is a Queen who may be willing to come to Dena Nehele and show your people how a Territory is ruled when the Old Ways are followed. If she decides to accept the offer, she will be at the Keep seven days from now. The terms Prince Sadi has set for her being in Terreille are acceptable to her. You need to talk to your people to see if the terms are acceptable to them. If they are, you’ll meet us at the Keep, and she will return with you to Dena Nehele.”
Theran’s heart sank. “There’s only one who might be willing? We’re talking about a whole Territory, not some village.”
“I’m sure there are others, and you’re free to seek them if you choose. But you came here and asked for our help. This is our answer.”
Your answer,
Theran thought, knowing it was the only answer.
“I’d like to get back to Dena Nehele as soon as possible,” he said. “There will be much to discuss before we make a decision.”
“The Coach can take you back to the Keep this evening,” Saetan said.
Theran nodded and said nothing more as the last course of the meal dragged on. As soon as he could, he left the table, offering the feeble excuse of needing to pack.
One choice. One chance. Would this Queen have enough dazzle to convince bitter men to serve?
One way or another, he’d have his answer in seven days.
“If you’ll excuse me, I want to check the rest of the messages Beale has waiting for me,” Jaenelle said. “I never got past Sylvia’s note when I returned from Dharo.”
“Probably because you were laughing so hard,” Daemon said.
“True,” she said, brushing a hand over his shoulder. “No, don’t get up. You two enjoy your wine.”
As soon as she walked out of the room, Daemon dismissed the footman who had served them at dinner.
For a few minutes, the two men simply drank wine—he finishing up the bottle of red, while Saetan drank yarbarah, the blood wine.
“You didn’t tell me Sylvia cut her hair,” Saetan said quietly.
“I wasn’t sure you wanted to know about her personal life,” Daemon replied.
“I don’t. Can’t. But . . . Is it that unattractive?”
“Not at all. It’s sassy. It suits her.”
“Then Grayhaven’s an ass.”
Daemon shrugged. “What he wants for his people shouldn’t be dismissed. And it took balls to come here.”
“Yes, it did.” Saetan swirled the yarbarah in the ravenglass goblet. “He doesn’t fit. His Jewels are dark enough and his personality is strong enough, but he doesn’t fit in with us.”
“He looks into Jaenelle’s eyes and doesn’t see who she is,” Daemon said.
Saetan nodded. “Yes. That was always the test when it came to accepting someone into the Dark Court, even for an apprenticeship. If the person couldn’t look into her eyes and
know
, he would rub the entire First Circle the wrong way and their tempers would start sharpening for an attack.”
“Fortunately, Theran won’t have to deal often with anyone who served in the Dark Court.”
“Except his new Queen,” Saetan said.
Daemon blew out a breath. “Except the new Queen.”
“You and Jaenelle. Will you be all right this evening?”
“We’ll be all right.”
“Will
you
be all right?”
He smiled. “Yes, Father, I’ll be all right.”
“In that case, I’ll return to the Keep and see Theran back to Terreille.”
They found Jaenelle—and Vae—waiting for them in the great hall. Theran joined them a minute later.
“Thank you for your help and your hospitality,” Theran said.
The words were properly spoken, but Daemon had the impression that Theran would have said anything if it got him out of the Hall.
“Witch-child,” Saetan said, kissing Jaenelle’s cheek.
Daemon felt more than saw a flash of understanding between them before Saetan shifted to him and put a hand against his face.
A different kind of understanding, an acknowledgment that the darkest feelings that lived inside him were not unique. He’d done something with those feelings no other male had done, but he knew now that he could temper those feelings when he chose to, could soften them to be an enticement rather than a weapon.
*Massage, not sex tonight,* Saetan said.
Right.
A pat on the shoulder and his father walked out the door with Grayhaven.
*Bye, Theran!* Vae said, bouncing in some kind of tail-wagging happy dance. *Bye!*
As soon as Beale closed the door,Vae looked at both of them. *He is male and foolish. He needs me. When he comes for the Queen, I will go live with him.*
She trotted out of the great hall, leaving him and Jaenelle staring at the door.
“We could make it part of the bargain,” Daemon said.
“How so?” Jaenelle asked.
“If he wants the Queen, he has to take the Sceltie.”
“Oh, Hell’s fire.”
It didn’t occur to him until much later, when he was cuddled up with Jaenelle in her bed, that Beale hadn’t thought there was anything odd about the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan and the former Queen of Ebon Askavi sitting on the floor of the great hall laughing like fools.
CHAPTER 8
TERREILLE
T
heran stared at the ninety-nine Warlord Princes and wished one of them would sneeze, cough, fart—anything to break the stone-hard silence.
“That’s it,” he said. “That’s the bargain.”
“One choice,” Ranon, the Shalador Warlord Prince, said. “And if she turns out to be a bad choice, she’ll destroy what’s left of us.”
I know.
“I don’t believe Daemon Sadi would recommend a Queen who would be a danger to us.”
“Sadi
hated
Terreille,” Ranon said. “He might see this as an opportunity to crush a Territory completely.”
“Sadi hated everything to do with Dorothea SaDiablo and what she was doing to the Realm,” Theran said, raising his voice to be heard above the mutters.
“That may be true,”Archerr said. “But you said it was his
wife
who went and talked to this Queen.”
*And you’ve said damn little about the wife,* Talon said on a psychic thread aimed directly at him.
*Nothing much to say,* Theran replied.
Talon shifted in his chair. The mutters faded as the other Warlord Princes focused their attention on him.
“Here’s the thing,” Talon said. “Jared trusted Daemon Sadi. So did Blaed. They knew him. He gave them some training when they were slaves, and helped them survive. Yeah, that was a few centuries ago, and maybe he’s changed—maybe he jumps now when his wife snaps her fingers. But the terms he set tell me he gave some thought to this request. They won’t be all that easy for us to meet, and these ‘inspections’ don’t sit well with me, I can tell you that. Even so, I think we have to take this chance.”
“Forgive me, Prince Talon,” Ranon said, his tone respectful, “but you’re demon-dead. You have less to lose than the rest of us.”
“I have less to lose physically,” Talon agreed. “That doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to lose. But I’ll offer to serve in this Queen’s court—and that’s an offer I didn’t make to Grizelle or Lia when they ruled. I served them both in my own way, but I never chained myself to a contract.”
Feet shuffled. Bodies shifted in chairs. They all understood how hard it would be for a man who had been rogue for so many years to hand over his life to a Queen.
“How do we decide who serves in the First Circle?” Ranon finally asked. “Any of us who leaves our piece of Dena Nehele for a year will leave those Blood open to landen attacks.”
“I think we should all offer,” Theran said. He’d thought about this on the way back to Grayhaven. “Let her choose whatever twelve of us appeal to her. I’m required to offer myself as one of the Queen’s triangle. The rest of you can offer yourselves according to your skills.”
“What about the rest of the Blood?” Archerr asked. “You’re going to need other females in the court.”
We’re going to need a lot more than that,
Theran thought. “A court is made by twelve males and a Queen. Everything else builds from that. Let’s establish the First Circle and give the Queen a couple of days to settle in and get to know those males. Then we’ll set up some audiences to let anyone else present themselves to her.”
Ranon stood up. “In that case, I’m heading back to the Shalador reserves to inform the elders.”
“Ranon . . . ,” Theran began.
Ranon smiled bitterly. “I know we’ve never been welcome in a court, but we’ll be ruled by this Queen too, Theran, so it’s only polite to offer our Blood for the Lady’s pleasure.”
Ranon walked out. A few seconds later, the other Warlord Princes followed, leaving Talon and Theran alone.
Theran straddled a chair and braced his arms on the back. “Maybe it was a mistake to invite Ranon to be part of this. He’s too bitter, too angry, although he hides that fairly well.”
“I’ll remind you that if you weren’t who you are, you’d be living in the reserves with him,” Talon said. “Half your bloodline came from the Shalador people. You’ve got the green eyes.”
“Plenty of people in Dena Nehele have green eyes.”
“Not that shade. You only find that shade of green in the reserves, and it’s rare even there. You have Shalador eyes,Theran. Jared’s eyes. He came from that race, and Dorothea SaDiablo went beyond the initial fighting there and destroyed that Territory and that race because Jared helped Lia. The Shalador people have had a harder time surviving than the rest of us, and you know it.”
He did know it. That didn’t erase his worry that the Blood living in the reserves would try to splinter Dena Nehele even more.
“I won’t be going back to the rogue camps in the mountains,” Theran said. “I’ll be living here, at Grayhaven.”
“I know that.”
“If you’re accepted in the court, you’ll be here too.”
“Yes. It’s not likely she’ll accept someone who’s demon-dead, but if she does, I won’t be going back to the mountains either.” Talon sighed. “You have to tell Gray. You have to let him make his own choice.”
“What choice? He can’t survive on his own.”