by Anne Bishop
As he adjusted the water in the shower, he contacted Ladvarian on a psychic spear thread and delivered Jaenelle's instructions…and felt grateful the dog didn't ask any questions since he didn't have any answers.
That done, he stepped into the shower and quickly washed while he considered if he was amused or insulted by Jaenelle's "discovery."
Growing up under Dorothea's control had stripped him of innocence at a very early age, and there was little, if anything, of a twisted, vile nature that he hadn't experienced. The Darkness only knew all that he'd done, but one thing he knew with absolute certainty: He was not naive.
2
Surreal stared at Helton. "They left?"
"Immediately after breakfast," Helton replied.
"Did Prince Sadi say where he and Lady Angelline were going?" Lucivar asked.
"He did not, Prince Yaslana. Nor did he leave instructions on how to reach him. He did say he and the Lady would be returning, but he did not say when."
Surreal blew out a breath and looked at Lucivar, who shrugged.
"Would you like some breakfast?" Helton asked. "Or perhaps coffee served in the sitting room?"
"Coffee's fine," Surreal said. She walked into the sitting room and waited until Lucivar closed the door before she kicked a footstool.
"You pissed off about something, or are you reacting to this room?" Lucivar asked, moving around the room as if he were looking for a trap he knew was there but couldn't see.
"What about the room?" she snapped.
"The hot anger still lingering in it." Lucivar studied a spot on the carpet. "The cold rage underneath the anger."
Surreal stopped her own prowling to see what had caught his attention. "Where's the chair?"
"What?"
"There was a stuffed chair in that spot. At least, there was when I was here this winter to do some shopping forWinsol."
Lucivar crouched, his hand moving slowly just above the carpet. Then he pulled a sliver of wood out of the carpet and held it up.
He didn't have to say anything.
She closed her eyes. "Mother Night, Lucivar. Did I do something stupid by coaxing Jaenelle into coming to Amdarh?"
Rising, he tossed the sliver into the fireplace. "You didn't know about the rumors."
"Where do you think they've gone?"
Lucivar turned slowly. His Ebon-gray Jewel glowed. He paused, then clearly broke whatever link he'd been trying to make. "Daemon's not responding, but he's west of here. Heading for the Hall, I think."
Daemon was the only person Surreal knew who could make Lucivar wary. That Sadi wouldn't respond to his brother made her nervous.
A light knock on the door preceded Helton, who brought in the tray that held a dish of pastries as well as the coffee. It would have been natural, even expected, for one of them to ask him about the chair's absence.
Neither of them asked. They kept silent until Helton left the room.
Then Lucivar sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. "What are you planning to do?"
Surreal poured coffee for both of them. "I'll stay here for a few days, do some shopping, see if I hear anything interesting. What about you?"
"I think I'd better go to the Keep and inform the family patriarch about what's happening," Lucivar replied, taking his cup of coffee.
"Well, that should perk up Uncle Saetan's day."
He snorted. "Yeah. He's going to be thrilled."
3
"Is there anything you can do?" Lucivar asked, finding no comfort in the way Saetan sat so silent and still.
Finally, Saetan sighed. "I gave up my claim to Dhemlan last year when I decided to remain here at the Keep. The Queens there no longer have to answer to me."
"But they know you. They'll listen to you. Hell's fire, Father. Things are shaky enough between Jaenelle and Daemon. If these rumors…"
"I beg your pardon?"
He felt that whiplash of icy temper and winced. "You've visited them at the Hall often enough," he hedged. "Surely, you've noticed…" Oh, shit.
Saetan shook his head. "My apologies, Lucivar. I have no right to lash out at you for saying something I don't want to hear. Daemon came too close to sliding back into the Twisted Kingdom when he thought Jaenelle died. If he loses her now… I'm not sure what would happen."
"You know what will happen," Lucivar said. "You were in that camp in Hayll. You know what it's like to dance with the Sadist. He played out a game with illusions, but with the right provocation, he's capable of doing things like that. He's capable of doing anything. You know that."
"Yes, I know that," Saetan replied too softly. "After all, he is his father's mirror."
For a moment, Lucivar couldn't breathe. The deliberate reminder that a place called Zuulaman no longer existed was a caution about dealing with the man who sat on the other side of the desk…and a warning about the other man who wore Black Jewels. After all, Daemon was the reason he didn't fear Saetan. When it came down to it, the Sadist could be a more elegantly vicious enemy than the High Lord of Hell would ever dream of being.
"What do we do?" Lucivar asked.
"We wait." Saetan paused, then added, "And we hope."
4
He was naive. It was the only explanation for why he was standing in a meadow on a spring afternoon feeling overdressed and feet-deficient.
Of course, being flanked by a huge cat and a small dog while enclosed by a circle of unicorns could make any man feel… out of step.
Then the unicorns shifted, making an opening in the circle. Jaenelle stepped through the opening, flanked by Moonshadow, the Queen of Sceval, and her mate, Mistral, the Warlord Prince of the unicorns. Behind them came the Priestess, who had agreed to do her best to say words that would be meaningful to humans while she stood as witness to the "mating" of Kaeleer's Heart to Prince Daemon Sadi.
Thank the Darkness, none of them expected him to consummate the marriage in front of these witnesses.
Jaenelle's eyes brimmed with amusement as she took her place beside him. On his left.
He didn't think about it. He simply stepped back and shifted until he stood on her left, the subordinate position. Her startled expression told him she didn't know what to think about that move, since he now outranked her and was entitled to stand on the right. But his choice had nothing to do with the Jewels she now wore and everything to do with who, and what, she still was. Her place wasn't at his side; his place was at her side. And always would be.
Before her uncertainty could be sensed by the unicorns around them, Mistral reared. Then, looking at Daemon, he flicked his tail and snorted before moving to one side.
Jaenelle pressed her lips together.
*You'd have no use for me if I was hung like that,* Daemon told her on a psychic thread.
She changed her muffled laugh into a series of coughs, causing Ladvarian to declare it was still too cold for the Lady to be outside much longer.
So Moonshadow tossed her head, the sun gleaming on her spiral horn, and all the unicorns pricked their ears as the Priestess took her place in front of the two humans.
*Jaenelle,* the Priestess said, *this human stallion stands before you, wanting to be your mate. Will you accept him?*
"I will accept him," Jaenelle said. She called in the gold band Banard had made. Even though he'd given it to her for this ceremony, Daemon stared at it as if he'd never seen it before.
His left hand trembled when she slipped the ring on his finger, adding, "I offer this token to let everyone know Daemon is now my mate."
*Daemon,* the Priestess said, *the Lady is willing to have you as her mate. Do you promise to be her friend and…* She looked at Ladvarian, who, Daemon guessed, was helping the mare with human concepts. *…lover? Do you promise to protect her from enemies?*
"I promise," Daemon replied. He called in the sapphire ring and slipped it on Jaenelle's finger. "Let this token be a symbol of my commitment to honor, cherish, and protect, to be friend, lover, and husband." He lifted her left hand and brushed his
lips across her knuckles. "This I promise… with everything I am."
When he drew her into his arms and kissed her, he forgot about standing in a meadow, forgot about who was watching, forgot everything but her…
… until a young voice close to his hip said, *Are they going to mate now?*
Since his libido was rising a little too eagerly, he started to step back… and got stabbed in the ass by a little unicorn's horn.
"It could have been worse," Jaenelle said as he led her back to the Coach and the picnic Ladvarian had procured from somewhere.
"How?" Daemon said, grateful he was just bruised, not punctured.
"You could have been facing the other way."
Before he could decide if he wanted to be an intelligent husband or a snippy bastard, she kissed him, and when her tongue slipped into his mouth, he decided being an intelligent husband was the far better choice.
Wrapping his arms around her, he sank into the kiss, soaring on the feel of her body brushing against his.
She scraped her teeth over his chin. "Did you notice that Ladvarian chose the Coach that has a bed?"
"I noticed."
She licked his throat. "Do you think you can perform your duties as a husband, or are you too wounded?"
Since she was pressed against him, the answer was rather evident, but he said, "Oh, I think I can manage."
5
"I appreciate your having us to stay tonight," Daemon said as Khary refilled the brandy snifters. In Seek, the Blood still held with that quaint custom of the men and women separating after dinner for a while so that each group could chat with their own gender. So he and Khary had remained in the dining room while Jaenelle and Morghann had gone to the sitting room.
"Well, you could say we were expecting company," Khary replied, a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Especially since Ladvarian came pelting up to the house earlier today, saying he needed a picnic in a hurry and could we have you and Jaenelle to dinner and put you up for the night."
Daemon tried not to wince. "We could have stayed at Jaenelle's house."
"Now, that you couldn't. The staff put most of the furniture under dustcovers after Wilhelmina moved to her own cottage. This way, the house can be put to rights before your next visit." Khary gave Daemon an expectant look.
He smiled. "I have some business in Amdarh that requires my immediate attention, so we'll be going back to Dhemlan in the morning, but we're planning to come back here after the wedding for at least part of the honeymoon. And now that Jaenelle is completely healed, I expect we'll be dividing our time between here and the Hall."
Khary rolled his snifter between his hands. "Wilhelmina said you settled a generous income on her."
Daemon shrugged. "She's Jaenelle's sister. The family could afford it."
"Ah."
As they drank their brandy, the silence took on the weight of anticipation. Of course, there had been a feeling of anticipation since he and Jaenelle arrived at the home of the Queen of Seek and the Warlord of Maghre. Morghann and Khary had greeted the news of their intended marriage with enthusiasm and hearty well-wishing, but as the evening wore on, Daemon couldn't shake the feeling that Khary especially was waiting for something.
"Perhaps we should join the Ladies for coffee," Daemon said, pushing away from the table.
"If you're trying to keep it a secret, you should stop playing with the ring," Khary said quietly.
He'd intended to pretend ignorance, which would have been a lie, but he looked into Khary's eyes and realized they stood on a point of no return. Whatever conclusions Lord Khardeen had reached about what had happened last spring, and why, had been reason enough for him to offer a hand in friendship again. But if that offer of friendship was repaid with a lie, it would never be offered again…and Khardeen had enough weight with the rest of the boyos to bring him back into that circle of friendships… or leave him outside of it forever.
Daemon held out his left hand and dropped the sight shield he'd placed on the gold band to keep it hidden. "How did you know?"
Khary leaned forward to admire the ring. Then he grinned. "Did the same thing with mine when I first got it. Couldn't quite believe it was really there." He rose and gave Daemon's shoulder a friendly squeeze. "So that's what you were doing in Sceval this afternoon."
Feeling awkward, and not liking it, he shrugged. "We wanted to get married. But we are going to have the formal wedding."
"Damn right you are." Khary studied him. "Is there a reason for keeping this secret?"
Daemon felt himself going cold and fought against it. This wasn't the time or place for that sweet, deadly rage. But soon. Soon. "There's some… trouble… in Amdarh. It could shift to Jaenelle if our marriage became public knowledge." He wasn't sure when that realization had bloomed, but he trusted his instincts. "I'll take care of it."
"If you need help, you'll let me know?" Khary asked.
He nodded.
"Well, then." Khary rubbed his hands together. "Why don't we join the Ladies?"
Jaenelle's amused, guilty look when he and Khary entered the sitting room told him she'd had no better luck keeping their secret from Morghann than he'd had keeping it from Khardeen.
Khary looked at the two women and grinned. "So. Are we going to talk about the wedding that will take place or the one that did take place?" His eyes shifted to Daemon. "Because we were wondering why you were having so much trouble sitting through dinner."
Jaenelle snorted.
Daemon sighed, and muttered, "I backed into a unicorn."
Morghann burst out laughing. "Oh, we've got to hear the details."
So Khary and Morghann heard the details, and the evening ended with laughter…and the warm sense that he was back among friends.
Ten
1
Daemon drove the Coach back to Dhemlan. He didn't have much choice, since Ladvarian, who had driven the Coach to Sceval, had announced that he and Kaelas would meet them at the Hall. He usually didn't mind driving, but he'd anticipated talking Jaenelle into tucking into bed for the journey. And they would have gotten some sleep.
Still, it was pleasant to have her with him in the driver's compartment. Except for the time they spent in bed, it was rare for them to be together without the presence of kindred, court, or family.
But looking at her, he noticed the dark smudges beneath her eyes… and the way she shivered despite being wrapped up in her winter cape.
"Why don't you stretch out on the bed and get some sleep?" he suggested.
"No, I'm fine."
She might be completely healed, but she hadn't regained her physical stamina. He could see the toll the past two days had taken on her.
Scooping her out of the other chair, he returned to his chair and settled her on his lap.
"You're driving," Jaenelle said. "You have to pay attention."
"I'll pay attention," he promised, wrapping his arms around her. She was right. The psychic pathways through the Darkness made it possible for the Blood to travel faster than they could otherwise, but inattention while riding the Winds could be fatal, and guiding even a small Coach demanded extra care. "Just rest. We'll be back at the Hall a little after midday."
Jaenelle rested her head against his shoulder. "I thought we were going to Amdarh."
He hesitated a little too long.
She raised her head and looked at him, too much knowledge in her eyes.
"I'll take care of things in Amdarh," he said.
"No."
She'd been born a Queen. Even though she no longer ruled a court, she was still a Queen…and she was still his Queen. He couldn't prevent the instinctive desire to yield when Jaenelle gave him a direct command, but living in Kaeleer for the past year had shown him that males could, and did, dig their heels in and oppose the Queen they served when a command might put her at risk.
"I won't come to harm," he began.
"You've already been harmed," she snarled.
His temper strained at the leash. "So far,
whoever is playing this game has used nothing but words. Once the announcement of our intended marriage is made…"
"The game may turn physical. I'm aware of that."
"I can take care of myself."
"But you don't think I can. Not having my full strength physically doesn't make me weak."
But you're not as strong as you used to be … and we don't really know how strong you are. "I'm aware of that."
When she squirmed, he tightened his hold, thinking she was trying to move away from him. But she only freed her left hand from the folds of the cape and held it up.
"What does this ring mean, Daemon?"
"My promise to honor, cherish, and protect."
"Besides that."
He studied her face, trying to discern what she wanted him to say.
"Partnership," Jaenelle said quietly. "You went to Hayll and played out a vicious game to distract Dorothea and Hekatah because that's what I needed you to do. And it cost you. Don't think I'm not aware of how much it cost you, Prince."
"That was different." Remembering the emotional cruelty he'd inflicted on his family in order to keep them from physical harm made his chest tighten, made it hard to breathe.
"Yes, it was different," Jaenelle said. "This isn't about serving in a court. This isn't about saving a Realm from being shattered by war. This is personal. Someone is going after you. And whether you like it or not, you are not going to play out this game alone."
Jaenelle would protect anyone she loved, no matter the price. If he refused to let her help, she would go off on her own to find whoever was playing games with his life. At least if they stayed together, he could protect her while she was trying to protect him.
"All right, partner," he said. "What did you have in mind?"
She frowned. "I'm not sure yet. But we'll think of some way to find the source of the rumors being spread about you." Then she looked at him through her lashes. "So, who's going to tell Mrs. Beale she's got a month to plan a wedding feast?"
Hell's fire. Mrs. Beale was a marvelous cook. She also had what he considered an unnatural relationship with her meat cleaver. Since he'd inherited SaDiablo Hall, he had gained a finer appreciation of why his father had stayed away from anything to do with the kitchen unless cornered. The woman was downright scary at times.