by Bishop, Anne
“Morghann is the Queen of Scelt—a Territory in Kaeleer. She lives in a small village not much bigger than this one. The only member of her First Circle who lives with her is Khardeen, the Warlord of Maghre. And the only reason he lives there is because he’s her husband as well as her Consort. Their house is divided between family and court. There are offices for her and the Steward, a smaller office for the Master of the Guard, a large meeting room, and a room where the First Circle can gather to relax, plan, or do whatever is needed. There is a large dining room that can accommodate the whole First Circle for a meal—or be used for social functions. The rest of the house belongs to the Queen and her family.”
“Then where does everyone else live?” Gray asked.
“In the village,” Cassidy replied. “And that’s what I’m proposing we do here.”
“It’s not safe.” Half the Circle growled that opinion—including Ranon.
“This is what I had in mind.” Cassidy raised her voice in order to be heard above the growls and mutters. “Talon and Powell will reside here with me. So will Gray, Shira, Ranon, and Reyhana since a young Queen training in a court requires a chaperon, and that is one of the duties of the First Circle. There are several cottages on this street and nearby streets that look abandoned, and they’re all close enough to the stable we’re using for the horses. If the village elders have no objections, the rest of the men can take up residence in those cottages.”
“In Kaeleer, why don’t those men want to stay close to their Queen?” Gray asked.
“Most of them have families,” Cassidy replied. “For the First Circle, their work is the court. They’re paid from the tithes. They have families. They have expenses. They have a life just like everyone else in the village.” She looked around the table. “You’ve never seen this, have you?”
Talon didn’t respond, but the rest of them shook their heads.
“Ranon, you must have seen this in the Shalador villages where the Queens lived.”
“I can’t say,” he replied. “The Queens’ safety depended on the rest of us not asking too many questions.”
“A Queen is entitled to a private life too,” Shira said.
Suddenly no one was looking at Cassidy—or Gray.
Powell cleared his throat. “Well, if such living accommodations are customary in Kaeleer, we can . . .”
“I have a wife,” Shaddo said suddenly. He stared hard at the surface of the table. “I have two sons. There’s no formal marriage contract. We couldn’t risk it.”
“Risk it?” Cassidy asked.
“The other Queens used to hold a wife or child hostage to try to force a Warlord Prince to surrender and subject himself to being controlled by a Ring of Obedience,” Talon said grimly. “Half the time, if the man gave in, the woman or child was killed anyway.”
“Mother Night,” Cassidy whispered. No wonder these men had been so wary of her.
“My oldest son will have his Birthright Ceremony this autumn,” Shaddo said. “Soli wasn’t going to acknowledge the paternal bloodline.”
“But your son would be considered a bastard,” Gray said. “He’d have no social standing.”
“But he’d be alive,” Shaddo said.
“Where are they?” Talon asked.
“A village close to the western border. A little north of the western reserve, actually,” Shaddo replied.
Cassidy swallowed tears, and her voice was huskier than usual because of them. “Shaddo, your wife should not be without her husband, and your sons should not be without their father. Unless the village elders have some objection, there is no reason why they can’t be here with you.”
Twelve men studied her, and she knew they heard the tears she couldn’t quite hide.
“The elders won’t object,” Ranon said. “But this is one of the reserves. I doubt we can offer the kind of life they’re used to.”
“Any of those cottages is better than what they’re living in now,” Shaddo said.
“I have a sister,” Archerr said. “She has three children, two boys and a girl. Their village was burned during the landen uprisings. They survived because they weren’t home that day. They’d been out picking berries, and when they saw the smoke, they hid. She’s doing the best she can, but she needs some help to make a new start for herself and the children.”
And neither of you mentioned these women and children in the weeks since the court was formed? Cassidy wanted to rail at them for not speaking sooner. She couldn’t because she knew exactly what Lucivar and her cousin Aaron would say: defend and protect. For Shaddo and Archerr, the best way to protect the people they loved was not to bring them to her attention.
Until now.
“Shaddo, if you want, take one of your Brothers in the court to help you get your family packed and moved here. While you’re in the west, you can deliver messages to any of the Queens you can contact. Powell and I had sent messages about using the Queen’s Gift to help the land. The Ladies should be told where they can find me if they need instructions. That goes for you, too, Archerr. Powell, you’ll be responsible for converting the rooms the court needs for offices and gatherings.”
Cassidy took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. Now the fight began. “The rest of you will assist me.”
“To do what?” Gray asked, narrowing his eyes.
He was getting too damn good at sensing when she was about to throw water on a bag of cats, as her father would say.
“This is the growing season,” Cassidy said. “The land is in desperate need of help. The Queens need to do something to increase the harvest, and they need to do it now.”
“No,” Gray said.
“Gray—”
“No!”
His voice thundered in the room as he leaped to his feet, knocking the chair over.
Cassidy pushed away from the table and rose. Since he’d been sitting on her left, there was nothing but the corner of the table between them. So all they needed to do was lean forward a little to be nose to nose.
“Yes,” she said.
“Doing that almost destroyed you, Cassie.”
“I was careless. I won’t make that mistake again. But it is vital to take care of the land and to do it now. Gray, you know it’s vital. What the Queens can do will make a difference for everyone in Dena Nehele. And this is a ritual. This is part of the Old Ways you all said you wanted to learn.”
“Not at the risk of you getting hurt again!” Gray snapped.
“I’m with Gray,” Ranon said, starting to get to his feet.
“You sit down!” Cassidy pointed at him.
Ranon froze. Then he looked at Talon for instructions, which really pissed her off.
“Sit down, Ranon!” she yelled. “You too!” She gave Gray a push. It wasn’t much of a push, but the look on his face had Ranon reaching across Shira to clamp a hand on Gray’s arm.
“Hell’s fire,” said a voice full of biting laughter, “this sounds just like home.”
The men whipped around to face the doorway. Shira had a look in her eyes that made Cassidy wonder if the woman was preparing to use some of the Black Widows’ Craft. Reyhana looked fearful.
Strap some steel to your spine. Cassidy turned and stared at the black-haired woman who had delicately pointed ears and the handsome man who leaned on a cane.
Mother Night, what was Surreal doing here?
“Doesn’t it sound like home, Rainier?” Surreal asked her companion.
“It does,” he replied. “Although these two are clearly still novices. When Jaenelle and Lucivar used to go at it, they could make the glass in the windows shake—until their father had enough of listening to them and roared them into silence.”
“Yes, Uncle Saetan is very impressive when he lets his temper slip the leash,” Surreal said.
“Lady Surreal,” Cassidy said, hoping no one had been foolish enough to stand in Surreal’s way when she came through the house. “What brings you here?”
Surreal call
ed in a stack of envelopes and held them up. “I’m delivering your letters. And I’m here to have a little chat.”
“Why don’t you and the Ladies go into the parlor for your chat while I stay here and answer the gentlemen’s questions?” Rainier said.
“There aren’t any questions,” Gray snarled. “Cassie is not doing this.”
“Not now, Gray,” Cassidy said. Then to Surreal, “Thank you for bringing the letters, but there is nothing for us to chat about. This is Terreille, not Kaeleer, and I don’t have to discuss anything with you.”
“Trust me, sugar, you don’t want to be summoned to the Keep to explain whatever this is to Sadi. Or Yaslana. Or the High Lord. Because I don’t think they’re going to be as flexible as I’m willing to be. Comes from them having cocks.”
“I beg your pardon,” Rainier said.
“You’ve got a cock too, so beg all you want,” Surreal said. *Sugar, do this with grace because you don’t have a choice. You either talk to me here or you talk to Sadi.*
Since Cassidy doubted Daemon Sadi would like what he heard, she also doubted he would stand aside after that “chat” and let her return to Dena Nehele.
Surreal was right. Talking to another witch was a much better choice. “Ladies, let’s adjourn to the parlor and leave the men to their own discussion,” Cassidy said. She walked past Surreal and Rainier, then waited for Shira and Reyhana.
As Surreal closed the door, she heard Rainier say, “So what is it that Lady Cassidy isn’t going to do?”
CHAPTER 13
KAELEER
Daemon settled in the chair behind the blackwood desk, crossed his legs, steepled his fingers, and tried to decide if his second and his secretary, who were finally coming to report, deserved a verbal ripping or if he should hold his tongue and his temper.
Surreal gave him a smile that dared him to say anything. Rainier gave him a panicky don’t expect me to control her look.
“My darlings,” he said with a mildness that would frighten any intelligent person—excluding females. “Breakfast is served here at the Hall every day. You didn’t have to bypass the family seat last night and go all the way to Amdarh to get a meal this morning.”
It wasn’t that he minded them going on to Amdarh instead of coming to the Hall, even though that would have been more sensible since the Hall was closer to the Keep and its Gate. What pissed him off was that neither of them had sent a message last night to let him know they were safely back in Kaeleer. No, it was Helton who’d had sense enough to send a message to Beale early this morning.
“I wanted some time to think before coming here—and I chose to do my thinking in the family’s town house in Amdarh,” Surreal said with equal mildness.
She’d had plenty of time to think on the journey back from Dena Nehele, so she’d probably wanted a little more time to consider what she was—and wasn’t—going to say.
Daemon raised one eyebrow and waited.
“Why don’t you go first?” Surreal said to Rainier.
Rainier gave her a long look, then shrugged. “Our arrival interrupted a full-volume discussion between Cassidy and a Warlord Prince named Gray.”
“So he’s reached that stage, has he?” Daemon asked dryly.
“You were expecting this?” Rainier hesitated. “Gray is . . . different.”
“He was held captive by a Queen and tortured for two years,” Daemon said. “He was fifteen when he was taken.”
Rainier nodded. “That explains the schism. I felt like I was listening to an adolescent who was still innocent enough to blurt out every thought and complaint, but it was a Warlord Prince around my own age who was absorbing the answers.”
“That’s about right.”
Rainier shifted in his chair. “Anyway, there were twelve men around that table, and every one of them resented me asking questions about their Queen and their court.”
“They resented me too,” Surreal said.
“No,” Rainier said, “they were afraid of you. Me they would have buried without hesitation if they thought they would survive the retaliation.”
“Which they wouldn’t,” Surreal said.
“Something is going on, and no one wants to talk about what that something is,” Rainier said. “However, Gray was more than willing to complain about Cassidy wanting to use the Queen’s Gift of having a connection to the land to boost the potential harvest—and also teach the other Queens how to do the same thing. They all sat there with their mouths hanging open when I said Cassidy and the other Queens had left it a bit late since all the Queens in Kaeleer had done this in the spring. I told them how it’s usually part of the spring planting festival most villages have and there’s usually music and dancing in the evening—a bit of fun before people settled in to the summer work. And I mentioned that Queens habitually drain a little of their power into the land before their moontime because it makes them more comfortable physically. They didn’t know about that either—and considering how many of those men blushed when I said the word ‘moontime,’ I have the feeling not many of them have had much experience living with women for more than a few days.”
“Most of Cassie’s court are rogues as well as warriors,” Daemon said. “So you’re probably right that this is all much newer ground than any of us realized.”
“They also didn’t know about the tradition of fussing,” Rainier said. “So I took the liberty of explaining it—especially as it applies to a Queen and her court.”
Daemon laughed. Oh, Cassie was going to have some comments about that in her next report. Then his humor faded as he looked at Surreal.
She shrugged. “Stone in a pond. Cassidy seems frustrated by how little she’s done in the weeks she’s been in Dena Nehele. My sense is she’s done enough already to send ripples through the whole Territory—including taking a young Shalador Queen into the court for training. I met the girl the last time I was in Eyota. With the right hand to guide her, Reyhana will be a strong, impressive ruler in a few years. She didn’t say a word while Cassidy and Shira talked, but she listened fiercely—and I had the impression she was hearing some of the same things that weren’t being said that I was. And didn’t like them any better.” She paused, then added, “Theran Grayhaven wasn’t in residence, by the way.”
“Oh?” Daemon said, watching her carefully. Those gold-green eyes held the ruthless chill of a first-rate assassin.
“Does the name Kermilla mean anything to you?” Surreal asked.
“No. Should it?”
Surreal shrugged. “This is what I was told. A Lady Kermilla arrived at Grayhaven to have an audience with the Queen. Audience was granted, and Kermilla’s request was denied. Instead of leaving as she should have, Kermilla has become Theran Grayhaven’s ‘personal guest,’ over Cassidy’s objections. So Queen and court removed themselves from the Grayhaven mansion and have taken up residence in Eyota, where Cassidy is determined to do some good for these people during her year in Dena Nehele.”
“I hope she’s not set on leaving at the end of that year,” Rainier said, “because my impression is that, however this started, her court is no longer thinking of her presence in Dena Nehele as temporary or as just a year to train someone else. They’re starting to dig in, and they’ll challenge anyone who tries to take her away from them. And that, Prince Sadi, includes you.”
Good, Daemon thought. “So Cassidy relocated her court because of Theran’s lover? I’m assuming ‘personal guest’ equals lover.”
“I don’t know that it does,” Surreal replied. “But she must mean something if Theran chose her over the Queen he swore to serve.” She leaned forward. “Kermilla is the key to this break between Cassidy and Theran because everyone was being very careful not to tell me where Kermilla came from or her caste. You don’t know her. Maybe Jaenelle does. You should ask her.”
Why don’t you? He knew the answer to that. As strong as she was, as powerful as she was, and as fierce as she was, Surreal did not want to be the one who asked
Jaenelle Angelline that question.
He waited until the midday meal. Surreal and Rainier had . . . fled, to be accurate, leaving him to ask what seemed a simple question.
“Do you know Lady Kermilla?” he asked as he cut into his beef.
“Why do you ask?”
Her voice—that midnight, sepulchral, lightning-filled voice—ripped icy claws down his spine.
And not just his spine, Daemon thought as he put down his knife and fork. There were ice crystals on his food, and the water in the glass was frozen solid. And when he looked up, the sapphire eyes staring at him were filled with cold rage.
Mother Night.
“I asked a simple question, Lady,” he said, keeping his own voice quiet and respectful.
“She is someone who will never be a guest in this house if you want me to continue living here,” Witch replied.
Had Surreal guessed this would be Jaenelle’s reaction? A little more warning would have been appreciated.
“Hell’s fire, Jaenelle, who is she?”
“She’s the Queen who took Cassie’s court.”
“Then . . .” Oh, shit.
“Why are you asking about Kermilla, Prince?”
The look in her eyes and the lethal purr in her voice made him put a double Black shield around himself before he said, “She’s in Dena Nehele, staying at the Grayhaven estate.”
Daemon removed his shoes and socks. He checked one foot, then the other. He didn’t respond to the knock on his study door, but the door opened anyway. Jaenelle walked in, carrying a large tray.
“What are you doing?” she asked, sounding contrite.
“Counting my toes.”
A pause. “They’re all there, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” Thank the Darkness.
She set the tray down on the low table in front of the sofa, then sat close to him. But not next to him.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t usually lose my temper like that.”
No, she didn’t. Her response was so fast and so fierce . . . Well, even a Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince can have the shit scared out of him—especially when one moment he was sitting at a large blackwood dining table and the next he was surrounded by a table, chairs, dishes, silverware, glasses, and food that had all been reduced to a pile of uniform pieces no bigger than grains of rice.