by Anne Bishop
“I can explain that.”
“No, you can’t, and I strongly suggest you don’t try. As for the remaining members of your First Circle, officially they’re still yours to command until spring since they signed a contract of service with you. However, you should be aware that Lord Jhorma feels he is no longer able to fulfill his duties as a consort and has asked to be reassigned to escort duties for the remainder of his contract. That request was granted. The rest of your men have requested that their service to you be confined to duties in Bhak and Woolskin, whether you’re residing there or not. That request was also granted. And any orders that go beyond ordinary court assignments must be approved by Darlena’s Steward or Master, regardless of who gives those orders.”
“So I have a court in name only?”
“Yes.”
Feeling weak and dizzy, Kermilla stared at the Queen of Dharo. “What am I supposed to do?”
“It’s clear now that you needed an older—and firmer—hand than Cassidy’s to guide you and help you understand your responsibilities as a Queen. It’s also clear that your training failed. That gives you two choices, Kermilla. You can apply to serve in another Queen’s court now, with no chance of ever ruling on your own, or you can go through the training again. All of it—repeating the lessons you should have learned in Cassidy’s court as well as serving in another Queen’s court for two years. At the end of that time, if the Province Queens and I are convinced that you’re ready, you will be permitted to form another court and you’ll be given the opportunity to rule another village.”
“And if I form another court without this training?”
“You won’t form another court in my Territory without that training,” Sabrina said, her voice filled with cold steel.
“And if I do?” Kermilla persisted.
“The Warlord Princes under my hand will meet your court on a killing field—and destroy it.” Sabrina stood up. “Is there anything else, Lady Kermilla?”
Her legs were shaking so hard, she wasn’t sure she could stand, but Sabrina’s dismissal didn’t give her a choice. So she stood up and made her way to the door without taking formal leave of the Queen.
As Kermilla opened the door, Sabrina said, “It looks like you also need to brush off your manners, so a review of Protocol will be required along with the rest of your training.”
Sabrina sank into the chair behind her desk and rubbed her temples to ease the headache. She didn’t have to wait long for her next visitor. It wouldn’t occur to him to keep her waiting.
Her Steward showed him into the room at the precise time she had requested. He stopped beside the visitor’s chair.
“Prince Butler.”
“Lady Sabrina.” His bow was precise, Prince to Queen, when both wore Green Jewels. Although, with his ability to mask his rank, most people assumed his full strength was the Purple Dusk that was his Birthright.
He worked for her but wouldn’t serve in her court. Not officially. A roamer who would take assignments for weeks or months to be her eyes and ears—and sometimes her knife. His credentials were as substantial as water written on wind. At least, the ones he offered contained more than a touch of fiction, and nothing was actually known about him beyond his caste and rank.
Almost nothing. Those insubstantial credentials carried the seal of the Queen of Ebon Askavi. Whoever he was, whatever he was, he was known to Jaenelle Angelline, and that was sufficient recommendation for every Territory Queen in Kaeleer.
“Please be seated.” Sabrina waved a hand at the chair recently vacated by Kermilla.
Butler looked at the chair, wrinkled his nose, and fetched another chair from the other side of the room.
Sabrina worked to keep her mouth from falling open. “Is there a problem with that chair?” she asked when he’d finally, and fussily, taken a seat. “Did she pee on it?”
“It doesn’t appear to be wet,” he replied pleasantly, “but as a whole, I find Lady Kermilla’s scent unpleasant.”
He doesn’t like her. That wasn’t surprising, but it was worrying.
“I understand my orders, and I won’t step outside them,” Butler said, his voice still pleasant. “I am curious, though, about why I shouldn’t step outside them.”
“Your report first.” Which would give her time to decide if she would answer the question inside his last statement.
“Lady Kermilla arrived on the first day of Winsol and met with your Steward. He made her aware of what was available for her use and what was not. She returned to Bhak and stayed long enough to pack her personal belongings—and express her outrage again over so many of her purchases being returned or sold. She spent the days of Winsol at her parents’ house. Her family, by the way, is deeply in debt because of the little Queen’s extravagance, so it appears her greed is a character trait rather than an error in judgment. She didn’t return to Bhak, so she must have come to this meeting from her home village.” He paused. “Why hasn’t she been dealt with?”
“One man’s bitch is another man’s Lady,” Sabrina said.
Butler smiled. “The wording is usually reversed. That is, if you were intending to quote the High Lord.”
“The point is, despite the misery she’s caused, she hasn’t done anything in Dharo that a Queen isn’t entitled to do.”
“Beggar her people? Send one of her men to his death? Is that what a Queen is entitled to do, Lady Sabrina?”
“A Queen’s will is the law. Where she rules, she can do anything.”
“Unless someone stops her. Why aren’t we stopping her?”
“I did stop her. She no longer rules Bhak and Woolskin.”
“She didn’t want them, so she’ll feel no loss. You know what she wants and where she is going and what she’ll try to do now. Why aren’t we stopping her?”
For the same reason no one asks about your credentials. “By Blood law, I cannot interfere in another Queen’s Territory.”
“We could fix this before she left your Territory.”
“No.”
“Why?”
She studied him as he studied her. “Do you trust Jaenelle Angelline?”
“With everything I am.”
“So do I. And that is your answer, Butler. That’s why.” Sabrina sat back. “When I met with Jaenelle and some of the others at the Keep a few weeks ago, I was ready to haul Kermilla back to Dharo. It would have been an insult to Cassidy, would have implied that she wasn’t able to defend her Territory from even a small threat, but I was ready to do it. I was overruled.”
Butler thought it over and nodded. “I understand.”
Because he did understand, she added, “Something Jaenelle said to me in private has shaped my decisions about Kermilla and is the reason I’ll stand back and let this play out as it will.”
He said nothing, but his eyes asked her to share. And in all fairness, if he had to spend the next couple of months in Bhak, he deserved to know.
“Jaenelle said some people need a hard lesson in order to learn and grow—and some peopleare the hard lesson.”
Later that evening, Daemon returned to his seat at the table where he and Jaenelle were playing an idle game of chess. He handed a note to his Lady. “This came from Sabrina.”
“She must have had her chat with Kermilla,” Jaenelle said as she opened the note.
Daemon stared at the chessboard. It would be so easy to fix this little problem. He had fixed a lot of these little problems when he’d lived in Terreille, despite Dorothea SaDiablo’s efforts to control him. But unless Kermilla set foot in Dhemlan, he had to leave the fixing of this problem to Dharo’s Queen.
Jaenelle read the note and gave it back to him. “You’ve had more experience with women like Kermilla than I have. What do you think she’s going to do?”
Ignoring the rules of play, he picked up his Queen and set her down behind a castle guarded by a Warlord Prince.
“What do you think Cassidy will do?” he asked.
Also ignoring the ru
les of play, Jaenelle set her Queen squarely on the edge of the battlefield, flanked by two Warlord Princes.
They looked at each other, knowing nothing more needed to be said.
CHAPTER 36
TERREILLE
Theran looked up when his study door opened, then sprang out of the chair to meet Kermilla as she rushed into the room. She flung herself into his arms, her hair smelling of cold air and fresh snow. Her psychic scent filled his senses like the most intoxicating perfume.
“Kermilla,” he whispered as his arms tightened around her.
“I wanted to fulfill my duties as a Queen, but I couldn’t stay away.” She covered one side of his face with kisses. “They don’t need me. There are so many Queens in Dharo, those villages don’t need me.” She pulled back enough to look at him, her eyes shining with sincerity and purpose. “But you need me. Your people need me. And I need you, Theran. I missed you so much! I want to stay with you. I want to be the Queen you need for your people. I can do it, Theran. I know I can.”
He hugged her, his heart so full it ached. She’d come back to him. He hadn’t expected to see her again, but she’d come back.
“We’ll build a good life for ourselves and our people,” he said. “It will take work and time, but we’ll build a good life.”
“I know we will.”
When she raised her left hand to touch his face, he saw the silver bracelet he’d given her for Winsol. Her wearing it now symbolized a choice, both for the woman and the Queen.
Moved beyond words, he pressed a kiss into her palm.
“We have a lot to do before spring,” he said, not sure enough of what she wanted from him to ask for the intimacy he craved. “I guess we should get started.”
Smiling, she kissed him softly—then kissed him again with more heat. “Tomorrow is soon enough. Today I don’t want to think of anything but you.”
CHAPTER 37
TERREILLE
Cassidy entered the kitchen, rubbing her hands. A brisk walk on a crisp morning had woken her up and made her look forward to a few hours in a warm room, even if she wasn’t looking forward to working her way through the correspondence, requests, and other paperwork that had arrived like a steady snowfall since the Winsol celebrations ended two weeks ago. Just as well that the new year began in the winter season. If she was diligent, she figured she could get through all the paperwork before spring planting.
Birdie gave her a look. Before Cassidy could say anything, the assistant housekeeper made a shooing motion. “I got a pot of spiced tea almost ready for you, and I’ll warm up a couple of those fruit tarts Maydra baked yesterday.”
“I thought we devoured them all at dinner last night,” Cassidy said.
Birdie smiled. “We put a couple aside to go with your morning pot of tea.”
Grinning, Cassidy went to her office. A fire was burning nicely. A heavy shawl and blanket were laid out on the stuffed chair near the hearth, in case she began to feel chilled while working at her desk. And Powell had sorted through the new sack of mail, separating correspondence from family and friends from invitations, requests for audiences, and correspondence from Dena Nehele’s Queens. There were also pens and a stack of the inexpensive paper she preferred using for notes and instructions within the court.
Sitting at the desk, she closed her eyes.
It was lovely to feel cared for, to have someone do little things like save a fruit tart or make sure pens and paper were easily at hand. It was lovely to hear Birdie and Frannie singing while they tidied up the Residence, to hear Elle and Maydra laughing, to hear the ease in Dryden’s voice when he asked her to wait a moment while he instructed the young footman in the proper way to do something that involved her.
And it was a relief that her First Circle was finally learning to relax a bit. She’d notice a difference in all of them during the second half of Winsol. Oh, there was still the sharp, assessing glance whenever anyone who wasn’t First Circle approached her, and her men were always going to rise to the killing edge when someone outside the court or the home village came near her—Jaenelle’s last note confirmed that. But some underlying tension had disappeared. Shira also had noticed the difference but couldn’t explain it either, so they’d concluded that it was something men considered private and wouldn’t divulge unless given a direct order from their Queen.
And their Queen didn’t see any reason to push them about something that had made them happier.
Opening her eyes, Cassidy picked up the letter opener and started on the stack of correspondence from the Queens.
It was lovely to receive these notes, to read the caution and hope beneath the stiff phrases of the Queens in the northern Provinces and to read the growing confidence and warmth of the Queens in the Shalador reserves and the southern Provinces.
Many of them were interested in sending members of their courts to learn from the two Protocol instructors she had hired to work with courts and teachers so that the people of Dena Nehele would learn Protocol and the Old Ways from people who lived by the Old Ways. Two of the cottages in the Queen’s square were being repaired and cleaned for the Warlord and witch. They still hadn’t decided where the “school” would be located. She’d suggested another empty cottage in the square. Her First Circle had vehemently opposed having that many strangers coming and going within the boundaries of land that was supposed to be secure ground.
She’d resigned herself to the time it would take to negotiate with her men. Hell’s fire, it had taken days to get them to agree to let the instructors live in the square, and they only gave in about that after Gray, Ranon, and Talon met the two people at the Keep—and received confirmation that Prince Sadi and the High Lord approved of these instructors and thought they would fit in easily with Eyota’s residents. What sealed the deal was learning that the Warlord came from Scelt and was used to living around Scelties and the Lady from Nharkhava, being an enthusiastic reader of the Tracker and Shadow stories, was willing to learn to live with Scelties.
Cassidy glanced at Vae, who was snoozing in front of the hearth.
Let the Lady from Nharkhava learn on her own like the rest of us did, Cassidy thought as she opened the last letter in that stack—a letter that bore the Grayhaven seal.
Then she forgot about Scelties and Protocol instructors, forgot about the spiced tea and fruit tarts, forgot about all the hope and promise in the letters she had already read.
She’d been so happy and so busy building a life and working to fulfill her promise to these people that she’d forgotten it was temporary—until this note from Kermilla reminded her.
“. . .I’m sure you won’t do anything to make the transition difficult . . . valuable asset to the Territory . . . treat the reserves like a Province and appoint you their Queen.”
“To do what, Kermilla?” Cassidy asked. “Encourage these people to break their backs and their hearts so that you can buy another fancy dress?”
Vae raised her head. *Cassie?*
“I can’t do that to them. I won’t do that to them.”
*Cassie!*
She wasn’t aware of Vae leaving the room, but the Sceltie returned with Powell.
“Vae says something upset you,” Powell said. “What’s wrong?”
“I forgot.”
“I’m sorry, Lady. I don’t understand.”
She handed him the note.
His expression turned grim. “I didn’t think Theran was really that much of a fool.” Then he sighed. “The First Circle is out and about on the court’s business, so there’s nothing to do about this bit of information until evening when everyone has returned and Talon can join us. We can discuss it then.”
What was there to discuss? In another two months, she wouldn’t have a court. Just like the last time.
Her stomach rolled. Her skin turned clammy.
Was that why the men had relaxed? Had they been promised a place in Kermilla’s court and had the assurance that their own status wouldn’t change? Come to
think of it, her former court also had been more relaxed and considerate in the weeks before they’d all walked away from her.
“Lady?” Powell reached for her. “What’s wrong?”
How could he not know what was wrong?
She pulled away from him before he could touch her. “I’m not feeling well.”
He studied her, and she saw nothing in his eyes except concern. “You’ve been working steadily all morning,” he finally said. “Why don’t you rest for a while?”
She pushed away from the desk. She had to get away from him before she got sick. “I’ll do that. I’ll go up to my room and rest for a while. Please ask Reyhana to open the invitations and review the calendar. It will be good practice for her.” She hesitated, then added, “I don’t want to be disturbed.”
“Shall I have Birdie or Frannie bring up a tray? Or ask Lady Shira to make up a healing brew?”
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry, and there’s no need to bother Shira about this.” What ailed her was something the Black Widow Healer couldn’t fix.
She left her office, aware that Powell followed her to the door and watched her.
Vae followed her all the way up to her room.
“I want to be alone, Vae.”
*No. You are upset, and your smells are strange.*
“Leave me alone.”
*No.* Vae jumped up on Cassidy’s bed and growled a warning.
Cassidy studied the Sceltie’s Purple Dusk Jewel. Outranked and out-toothed.
*Why are you upset?*
It bubbled out, hot and bitter. “I’m going to lose this court. I’ve given the best that I have, but in two months, I’ll be replaced by another Queen.” Again.
*You are being foolish.*
“No, I’m not. Kermilla took my court before. She’ll do it again.”
Vae’s shock hit her as hard as a blow.
*You will not defend your males? You will not defend the other humans who belong to you?*