Shalador's Lady bj-8

by Anne Bishop

  She looked at him. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

  “No.” He smiled sadly. “This is as far as I go.” As far as he dared to go. “May the Darkness embrace you, Kermilla. I’ll never forget you.” Or stop loving you.

  He stepped back, stepped out of reach.

  Saetan opened the door.

  *High Lord?* Theran said.

  “Why don’t you go in?” Saetan told Kermilla. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

  She walked inside the room. Saetan closed the door and looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

  Theran called in a package that was carefully wrapped in paper and sealed with wax. He held it out and waited for Saetan to take it.

  “Four hundred gold marks,” Theran said. “I’d like Kermilla to have it. That’s a year’s income for me, and she’ll probably spend it in a week, but I’d like her to have it.”

  “Why didn’t you give it to her yourself?” Saetan asked.

  I didn’t want her to think it was a payment of some kind—or that she would get any more. “It’s complicated.”

  “I’ll see that she gets it.”

  “High Lord? Is Kermilla going to be all right?”

  Saetan stared at him for a long time. “Lady Sabrina and her Steward are on their way to the Keep. They’ll see that Kermilla gets back to Dharo safely.” He looked behind Theran. “This Warlord will escort you back to the Coach and retrieve Lady Kermilla’s trunks.”

  “Thank you.”

  Nothing more to say, so he bowed to the High Lord of Hell and followed the servant to the Coach.

  On the way back to Dena Nehele, Julien fixed him coffee and a plate of food. He didn’t touch either. He sat in the passenger compartment of the Coach, breathing in Kermilla’s lingering physical and psychic scents—and wondered if this feeling of being torn and broken would ever go away.

  After going through the Gate and arriving at the Keep in Kaeleer, Kermilla followed the High Lord to a sitting room. He’d been awfully scary when she’d first seen him, but he was a handsome man. A little too old for her tastes. Older men could be so serious about everything. And they didn’t have enough stamina to be fun. But the way he had handled that other strange man . . . Yes, he could be helpful. Very helpful.

  “I’m glad Theran didn’t come with us,” she said, giving him a sideways glance through her lashes. “That way we can get to know each other better.”

  She started to link her arm through his, but when she touched his jacket, the air turned so bitingly cold it burned her skin.

  He said nothing about the cold or the way she jerked away from him. When he opened the sitting room’s door, she darted inside and went straight to the fireplace, hoping to warm up.

  Her hands finally thawed enough to stop burning. She turned around and found him staring at her, his gold eyes glazed and sleepy.

  “I was ordered to give you a gift,” he said. “It was created especially for you.”

  “A gift?” That warmed her even better than the fire. She clapped her hands in delight and gave him a brilliant smile. “What is it?”

  He stepped closer, raised his right hand, and pressed his fingers lightly against her chest.

  At first it felt like a delicate necklace that rested on her skin in a web of fine metal. Then it melted into her skin, and threads of power flowed around her and through her, creating an odd flood of warmth that was there and gone.

  Only moments passed before he raised his hand and stepped back to look at her.

  “How appropriate,” he said in a singsong croon.

  She placed a hand on her chest, but she felt nothing.

  “Look,” he said. A turn of his hand, and a large gilt-framed mirror floated in the air nearby. “Look.”

  She looked. Then she screamed.

  And the High Lord of Hell laughed.

  “Don’t worry, my dear. It’s only an illusion spell, but it’s a powerful one—and unbreakable. You’ll wear that face for a year and a day. Then the spell will fade gradually over the months that follow. Within two years, you’ll have your own face again and, hopefully, a great deal more.”

  “Why?” Kermilla wailed as she stared at a face that was even more homely than Freckledy’s. Everyone would see this when they looked at her? “Why?”

  “The tangled webs all said the same thing,” the High Lord replied. “If you continue to be nothing more than a greedy little girl, you will be dead within a year. While some of us welcomed that solution to a noxious problem, the Queen decided to give you a second chance. Your pretty face was the tool you used to get what you wanted, regardless of what it cost anyone else. Now you’ll have to earn what you want by proving your worth as a Queen. You’re being given a chance to grow up, Lady Kermilla, instead of dying young. I hope you eventually appreciate the gift. If you don’t, we’ll meet again soon in Hell.”

  She trailed after him as he walked to the sitting room’s door. Then a gleam of silver caught her eye, drawing her toward one of the small tables scattered around the room. Plenty of expensive little nothings in this room. Who would notice if there were one or two less?

  The silence turned heavy and cold and peculiar.

  She looked at the High Lord, who studied her with those sleepy gold eyes.

  “If you steal something from the Keep, what guards this place will let you take it,” he crooned. “But they will take your hand in exchange.”

  He walked out of the room and closed the door.

  Something moved in the wall. A shadow where there shouldn’t be a shadow.

  Kermilla backed away from the table. Curling up in a chair, she remained there until Sabrina arrived to take her back to Dharo.

  “Is it done?” Witch asked.

  “It’s done,” the High Lord replied. “Will it make a difference?”

  She rolled up the threads of her tangled web and dropped them in a shallow bowl of witchfire. “That’s up to Kermilla now.”

  CHAPTER 48

  TERREILLE

  Frustrated and heartsore, Theran sat at his desk, his head braced in his hands.

  What was the point of the other Warlord Princes making him the ruler of Dena Nehele if they weren’t going to work with him, weren’t going to help him?

  They didn’t trust him. That’s what it came down to. As far as they were concerned, his bond with Kermilla had not only fouled his judgment, it had ruined the opportunities they would have had to bring in needed help for their people. And every time his efforts to restore Dena Nehele failed, he lost a little more of their conditional support.

  They wanted the same things people were receiving from Cassidy’s court, so he tried to approach Daemon Sadi about a loan similar to the one Gray had negotiated for Cassidy. Sadi’s coldly civil reply made it clear that Theran would get no help from the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan.

  He tried to contact the Queens in Kaeleer to hire Protocol instructors to teach the courts in Dena Nehele. The Queens didn’t answer him at all.

  He tried to talk to Cassidy, but her First Circle refused to grant him an audience. The only thing he received from that visit was an assurance from Talon that Lady Cassidy had no desire to start a war and no intention to seize any land. The Warlord Princes of Dena Nehele didn’t need to worry about having Lady Cassidy for a neighbor.

  No one wanted to work for him. The people in the town barely spoke to him.

  And too many nights lately, he wondered if the Warlord Princes were waiting for him to fail enough for them to justify using their knives.

  Julien rushed into the study without knocking and thrust an envelope into Theran’s hand. “You have a visitor. Lady Rhahn from the Isle of Scelt. She said you should read the letter before you speak to her.”

  Theran stared at Julien. The butler looked dazed, dazzled, almost giddy with excitement.

  “Read it,” Julien said. “Hell’s fire, man, read.” He sprang for the door. “Refreshments! I should get the Lady some refreshments!”

  He was gone as quickl
y as he’d come in.

  “What in the name of Hell is wrong with him?” Theran muttered as he broke the black wax seal and removed the single sheet of paper.

  Prince Grayhaven,

  I am aware that you have become the Warlord Prince of Dena Nehele and have taken responsibility for ruling your people. I am also aware that you still need a Queen who can help your people remember Protocol and the Old Ways. Therefore, I have asked Lady Rhahn to stay with you for a year.

  A second chance, Theran. If you turn away from this one, there will be no other.

  Jaenelle Angelline

  Theran folded the letter and vanished it.

  Mother Night. Witch was giving him a second chance.

  He straightened his clothes, ran his fingers through his hair in an effort to tidy it, and sprang to the study door much as Julien had. Then he paused. Would the Warlord Princes accept another Queen from Kaeleer if she was associated with him? Could they ever trust her with the well-being of their people?

  He opened the study door.

  The answer to those questions looked up at him and wagged her tail.

  CHAPTER 49

  TERREILLE

  “It was a lovely wedding, Daughter.” Devra lifted Cassidy’s left hand.

  “And that is a beautiful ring.”

  A lovely, dizzy warmth spread through Cassidy. “Yes, it is.” Not just the amber ring’s design, but what the ring stood for. Something she knew her mother understood.

  She looked at the people milling around the backyard of the Residence and was glad her First Circle had declared the sitting area under the tree to be the Queen’s private spot—a place to catch her breath and a moment’s quiet before talking to the next group of well-wishers.

  “This was supposed to be a small wedding,” she said as she caught sight of her cousin Aaron and his wife Kalush talking with Ranon, Shira, Reyhana, and Janos.

  Devra chuckled. “I imagine it is for a Territory Queen. You managed to limit the guest list to two Warlord Princes and two Queens from each of your Provinces, plus the elders and Tradition Keepers in Eyota, plus your court, family and personal friends. And everyone you invited accepted the invitation.”

  Except Theran. A small nugget of sorrow because of his rejection, but not for herself. Not anymore. Not when her life with Gray would be so full of dreams and challenges and work and love. Most of all, love.

  Her eyes skipped over the crowd, searching for Gray. She found him talking with her father, and there was something in the way they were gesturing . . .

  Devra sighed. “Can’t put those two anywhere near each other before they start talking about work and new projects. I’ll just go over and . . .”

  “No need,” Cassidy murmured, feeling laughter bubble up as she watched Lucivar Yaslana and her cousin Aaron deftly separate her father and husband, herding them in opposite directions. “I wonder. Did Scelties learn to play cows and sheep from Warlord Princes or did Warlord Princes learn from the Scelties?”

  Grinning, she and Devra slipped arms around each other’s waists and went out to meet the next group of well-wishers.

  “Prince Grayhaven and Lady Rhahn have arrived,” Dryden said quietly. “He asked to see you. I put them in the visitor’s parlor.”

  Gray felt the bright joy of his wedding day fade. Cassie had insisted on sending Theran an invitation to the wedding. He was family, and their wedding was about friends and family, and not about courts and boundaries. So he—and the rest of her court—had yielded to her wishes, but no one had been disappointed that Theran hadn’t come.

  He looked over to where Cassie was talking and laughing with a group of women, including Lucivar’s wife, Marian.

  “Let him wait,” Gray said.

  Lucivar chuckled. “Grayhaven can wait until the sun shines in Hell, but Lady Rhahn is a Green-Jeweled Queen. Trust me, boyo. You do not want to keep her waiting.”

  The sharp warning in Lucivar’s eyes had Gray chaining his temper before Ranon or any of the others caught a scent of it. He wasn’t going to spoil this day for any of them, especially Cassie.

  “Go meet her before you say or do something stupid,” Lucivar said.

  Gray handed his glass of sparkling wine to Lucivar. “Here. That way I won’t be tempted to throw it in her face.”

  Lucivar’s roar of laughter wasn’t the reaction he expected, so he slipped into the Residence, more curious now than angry.

  Then he stepped into the visitors’ parlor.

  Hell’s fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful. The Green-Jeweled Queen was a Sceltie?

  “Hello, Gray,” Theran said, sounding uncertain. “May I introduce Lady Rhahn from the Isle of Scelt?”

  “I am honored by the introduction,” Gray replied, bowing as he would to any Queen.

  “Lady, this is my cousin Prince Jared Blaed.”

  Rhahn wagged her tail. *You are called Gray. You are Cassie’s mate now. Are you going to have puppies?*

  “Ah . . .” Was there a safe answer? He sent a psychic spear thread toward Lucivar. *You could have warned me.*

  *Boyo, you have no idea yet. My darling sister sometimes has a wicked sense of justice.*

  *Jaenelle sent Rhahn to Dena Nehele?*

  *Who else?*

  Aware of the silence in the room, Gray looked into Rhahn’s brown eyes and had a sudden urge to hide in the nearest clump of brambles.

  “So,” he said, “are you the Queen of Dena Nehele?”

  *No. Theran rules Dena Nehele, and I rule Theran.*

  A Sceltie Queen ruling a territory made up of one Warlord Prince who didn’t outrank her. No wonder Theran looked like he’d gotten a hard whack upside the head.

  May the Darkness have mercy on him.

  *Rhahn!* Vae bounded into the room, dancing with delight. *You are here!*

  Theran looked at Vae and turned a little green.

  Gray took a step toward the door. “You two know each other?” A dumb question when the answer was so obvious.

  He took another step toward the door.

  *Rhahn is . . . * Vae appeared to be thinking hard. *Mother’s sister.*

  “What?” Theran squeaked.

  “Your aunt?” Gray felt something tickling inside his belly and throat. Might have been laughter. More likely, hysteria. “Rhahn is your aunt?”

  *Yes,* Rhahn said. *Aunt. Vae will introduce me to the Queen. Then we will play.* She looked at Theran and growled. *This is a happy day. You will behave and not fight with the Queen’s males.*

  The Scelties trotted out of the room.

  “What is the ‘or else’?” Gray asked. “She didn’t have to say it; I heard it loud and clear.”

  Theran hunched his shoulders. “With Rhahn, ‘bite him in the balls’ isn’t just an expression.”

  It wasn’t kind to laugh, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Is she as bossy as Vae?”

  “She’s twice as bad.” Theran shook his head. “Hell’s fire, Gray, when the Warlord Princes heard another Queen from Kaeleer was staying at Grayhaven, they came charging in, ready to fight.”

  “Didn’t know what to do with her, did they?” He looks so confused and beaten, Gray thought, feeling sympathy for his cousin Theran even if he still felt wary of Prince Grayhaven.

  “There she was, looking all furry and friendly, and before they realized what she was, she was charging around, issuing orders and herding them where she wanted them to go, and they just trotted along with her, as docile as lambs.”

  Of course, Gray thought. Why would they oppose someone who expected them to take care of their flocks and had connections to Cassie’s court as well as strong courts in Kaeleer? Theran might be the Warlord Prince of Dena Nehele and the ruler in public, but the court that truly ruled Dena Nehele would form around Rhahn.

  You wanted a powerful Queen who would dazzle the Warlord Princes enough to serve, Gray thought. Looks like you finally got her.

  Lucivar was right. Jaenelle did have a wicked sense of justice.
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  “I appreciate the invitation, Gray,” Theran said.

  You didn’t get here in time for the wedding. Cassie would have been sad about that if she’d known, but Theran’s absence hadn’t been obvious. Noted by the First Circle, since they’d all been on the lookout for him, but not obvious. The village was packed with personal guests and representatives from every Province and reserve, and trying to pick out a particular psychic scent among so many had been damn near impossible, especially after Lucivar and Marian arrived to represent the SaDiablo family as well as Cassie’s other friends in Kaeleer.

  “I figured my presence would piss off Cassidy’s First Circle, and I didn’t want to spoil the day. But Rhahn insisted that we come for part of the celebration.”

  “I’m glad you came,” Gray said—and realized he meant it. He’d missed his cousin.

  “I brought this.” Theran called in a small box and held it out. “A token for Cassidy. It’s a piece of Lia’s jewelry. I thought she might like to have one.”

  “I know she would.” Gray didn’t take the box. Instead, he put an arm around Theran’s shoulders. “You should give it to her yourself.”

  He guided Theran out the front door since Maydra had gotten snarly about people coming through the kitchen and snitching food from the platters before she got them set out.

  As they rounded the corner, heading for the backyard and the guests, they heard Rhahn say, *Theran is not a bad human. He is just male and foolish. And confused.*

  *Yes,* Vae agreed. *He needs you.*

  Gray looked at Theran. Theran looked at Gray.

  “Mother Night, Theran,” Gray whispered. “You are in so much trouble.”

  When the two men reached the backyard, Cassie, Lucivar, and all the others saw Jared Blaed and Theran Grayhaven holding on to each other, laughing.

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