Queen of the Darkness (24 page)

He waited a few heartbeats. Then, ”How long do you need?”

Now she looked at Saetan. ”Would an hour be convenient?”

”It would be our pleasure to reconvene in an hour,” Saetan said.

”All right,” Daemon said. ”I can hold him for an hour.”

Nodding to acknowledge that she heard him, she hurried out of the room.

Daemon stared at the closed door, fully aware that Andulvar and Saetan were waiting for some indication of what he was going to do. ”I am going to ask him,” he said quietly. ”And if I don’t like the answer, she’s going to have to go through me, too.” He would sacrifice any chance of being her lover if that’s what it took to protect her.

”You’re not going to like the answer,” Saetan said, ”but I wouldn’t worry about having to take a stand.

If Jaenelle decides she’s going into Little Terreille, she’s going to have to go through the whole First Circle to do it. Since it isn’t likely that she’ll fight the court that hard over this particular healing, it’s only respectful to allow the Lady the time to reach that conclusion on her own.”

”In that case, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better see what I can do about restraining Lucivar’s temper.”

3 / Kaeleer

Lucivar is unhappy,Ladvarian said as he watched Jaenelle stare at the waterfall and tiered pools she had built in this inner garden several years ago. ”I want to think, Warlord,” Jaenelle said quietly. ”Alone.” The Sceltie shifted his feet, thought a moment, then stood firm.
He’s snarly and upset and he won’t talk to
any of us.
This particular smell of anger and fear on Lucivar only happened when Jaenelle or Marian did something to upset the Eyrien. Since Marian hadn’t done anything unusual—he’d already checked—that meant Jaenelle had done something. Or was going to do something.

His lips pulled back in a silent snarl.
Jaenelle.

As she turned to face him, he saw the large blackwood hourglass resting on her hand. Saying nothing, she turned it over, set it on the stone lip of the lowest pool, and walked to the other end of the garden.

Ladvarian growled softly at the hourglass.

The kindred had trouble understanding the way humans carved up a day into these little chunks called hours and minutes. They had understood easily enough that sometimes human females wanted to be left alone, but, for a while, they had come back too soon and had gotten snarled at. So the High Lord and the Lady had made these hourglasses because they were easy to understand. If the sand was all at the bottom, the female was ready to play again. If it wasn’t, the kindred would go away without disturbing her.

Jaenelle had two sets of hourglasses. Each set had an hourglass sized for one hour, a half hour, and a quarter hour. Jaenelle used the set made of light-colored wood as a request for private time and could be interrupted if necessary. Witch, the Queen, used the set made from blackwood, and those hourglasses were a silent command.

Ladvarian trotted out of the garden, accepting the dismissal.

He wouldn’t challenge his Queen, but he had learned that, if nipped sharply enough, Lucivar would lash out. And then Ladvarian and the other males would find out what the Lady was planning to do.

4 / Kaeleer

Using Craft, any of the Jeweled Blood would be able to send an ax cleanly through a chunk of wood.

Lucivar, Daemon decided as he watched the ax come down and split the wood in half, wasn’t using anything but muscle and temper. And that, more than anything else he’d observed since arriving in Kaeleer, told him how different serving in a court was here. In Terreille, Lucivar would have picked a fight with another strong male, and the resulting violence would have triggered a vicious brawl that could tear a court apart. Here he was venting his temper by chopping wood that would warm the Hall in the winter days ahead.

”She send you out here to keep me hobbled?” Lucivar snarled as he swung the ax again.

”What happened seven years ago, Lucivar?” Daemon asked quietly. ”Why are you so against Jaenelle doing a healing in Little Terreille?”

”You’re not going to talk me around this, Bastard.”

”I’m not interested in talking you around this. I just want to know why I’m about to draw the line that puts me on the opposing side of my Queen’s wishes.”

The ax came down just hard enough to set the blade into the chopping block.

Lucivar called in a towel and wiped the sweat off his face. ”Seven years ago she had been in Little Terreille, making one of those visits that had been a concession to the Dark Council. A child had been badly injured, and she was asked to do the healing. Whoever set it up did it well. The injury was extensive enough that the healing would have left her physically and mentally exhausted but not enough that she might have called in other Healers than the ones in Little Terreille. Because if she’d called Gabrielle or Karla for help, a male escort would have come with them.

”When the healing was done, someone gave her food or drink that was drugged, and she was too tired to detect it. It made her complacent enough to do what she was told— and she was told to sign a marriage contract.”

The cold slipped through Daemon’s veins, sweet and deadly.
You weren’t here. You can’t think of it
as a betrayal since you weren’t here.
It didn’t matter. A Consort could be nothing more than a physical accommodation. But a husband... ”Then where is he?” he asked too softly.

Lucivar twisted the towel. ”He didn’t survive the consummation.”

”You took care of that? Thank you.”

”He was dead when I got there.” Lucivar closed his eyes and swallowed hard. ”Hell’s fire, Daemon, she splattered him all over the room.” He opened his eyes. The bleakness in them made Daemon shiver.

”They gave her a large dose of
safframate
on top of the other drug.”

Daemon’s body went completely numb for a moment.

He knew all too well what
safframate
could do to a person. ”You took care of her?” Meaning,
you
gave her the sex she needed?
There was no room in him now to feel jealousy or betrayal, just the desperate hope that Lucivar had done what was needed.

Lucivar looked away. ”I took her hunting in Askavi.”

Daemon just stared at his brother, letting the magnitude of those words ripen. ”You went out with her as
bait?”

”What was I supposed to do?” Lucivar snapped. ”Let her stay locked up in Ebon Askavi suffering?

Bloodletting relieves the pain of
safframate
as well as sex does.” He paused to take a deep breath and regain control. ”It wasn’t easy, but we survived it.”

And that, Daemon realized, was all Lucivar intended to say about a period of time that must have been a nightmare for him.

”She’s only been back to Little Terreille a couple of times since then, and then only with a full, armed escort that included me,” Lucivar said. ”She hasn’t been back at all since she formally set up her court.”

”I see,” Daemon said quietly. ”It’s almost time to hear her decision. Do you want to get cleaned up?”

”What for?” Lucivar asked with a grim smile. ”Once I hear it, I’ll probably be back out here anyway.”

5 / Kaeleer

”May I help you?”

Osvald, the escort, clenched his teeth, then made an effort to smile as he turned to face the footman.

Hell’s fire, wasn’t there
one
male in this whole damn place who wasn’t spoiling for a fight? ”I seem to have gotten turned around, so I thought I’d admire the pictures in this part of the Hall.”

”I would be happy to show you the way back to your room,” Holt said with frigid courtesy.

In Terreille, he could have had the footman whipped for no better reason than sufficient lack of subservience. In Terreille, servants wouldn’t wear their Jewels so blatantly that it forced their social superiors to acknowledge that strength. It galled him that he, who was favored by the High Priestess of Hayll, had to acknowledge that a
footman
was also an Opal-Jeweled Warlord.

”This way,” Holt said just as Wilhelmina stepped out of her room.

Osvald swore silently. If Holt had shown up a few minutes later, he could have had the bitch and gotten out of this place.

Then the large striped cat stepped out of the room and immediately fixed those unblinking eyes on him, making him glad of Holt’s presence. When the cat’s lips began to lift into a snarl, he didn’t need any more urging. He offered Wilhelmina a polite greeting—and felt intensely relieved when she returned it so automatically it sounded like casual familiarity, the kind of automatic response the other bitches in this place only gave to males they knew fairly well. With every other male, there was that slight pause that practically screamed ”stranger.”

That could work to his advantage, he thought as he followed Holt back to the wing where Alexandra and her entourage had been quartered. It wouldn’t seem odd for an escort to deliver a message from one Lady to another— especially if it was assumed he’d been working for that family for a number of years.

Yes, that could work very well.

6 / Kaeleer

When they work in tandem, they’re dangerous,Andulvar said to Saetan, using an Ebon-gray communication thread.

Looking at Lucivar and Daemon, Saetan understood the distinction Andulvar was making. All Warlord Princes were dangerous, but when two men with complementary strengths became a team...
So were we
at their age,
he replied dryly.
We still are.

If it ever came down to a fight, I wouldn’t want to go up against those two,Andulvar said thoughtfully.

Any amusement Saetan felt fled with that statement. His heart wanted to shout,
They’ll never be
enemies. They’re my children, my sons.
But another part of him—the part that had to assess the potential danger of another strong male—couldn’t be sure. He
had
been sure when it had been Lucivar alone. But Daemon...

Lucivar had endured a brutal childhood, but in some ways, it had been a clean brutality. He hadn’t gotten entangled in a court until he was a youth. But Daemon had been raised in Dorothea’s court, and he had taken the twisted lessons taught there into himself, had made them a part of himself, and then used them as a weapon.

While he might fight individuals, Lucivar had been able to embrace loyalty to family and court. Saetan strongly suspected that Daemon’s loyalty would always be superficial, that the only loyalty the rest of them could count on was his commitment to Jaenelle. Which meant Daemon was capable of doing
anything
in the name of that loyalty. Which meant this son had to be handled very, very carefully.

It didn’t help that Jaenelle was acting like a rabbit to Daemon’s fox. With any other man, Saetan might have found this chase amusing. He knew the boyos certainly did, and he understood why they were delighted by her reaction to Daemon. But he didn’t think Daemon found it the least bit amusing, and he wondered what would happen when his son’s temper finally snapped—and who would suffer because of it.

When Jaenelle entered the study, Saetan put aside the problem that hadn’t arrived yet in order to deal with the one already at the door.

”High Lord,” Jaenelle said formally.

”Lady,” Saetan replied, equally formal.

She took a deep breath and turned to Lucivar. ”Prince Yaslana, as First Escort, I want you to arrange for accommodations somewhere along the border of Little Terreille for myself and a limited escort. Not an inn. A private house or a guard station. Somewhere that ensures discretion. Inn can be in whichever Territory you choose. You can decide the time of the meeting—although not within the next three days.”

He wasn’t standing close enough to her to catch the scent, but he could tell by the sudden blaze in Daemon’s eyes and the sharpness in Lucivar’s that her moon’s blood had started. He wanted to sigh.

Hell’s fire, how was he supposed to channel Daemon’s instinctive aggression while fighting to control his own? Witches were vulnerable during the first three days of their moontimes because they couldn’t wear their Jewels or do more than basic Craft without causing themselves physical pain. And when it was his Queen who was vulnerable, a Warlord Prince’s temper rode the killing edge during those days.

”You don’t have to tell anyone about the arrangements you’ve made,” Jaenelle continued. ”Although, out of courtesy, you should inform the Steward, the Master of the Guard, and the Consort. The Steward will contact Lord Jorval to confirm the meeting place in Little Terreille.”

”What’s the point of setting up a secure place if you’re going to go to Little Terreille?” Lucivar asked, but Saetan noticed he was keeping his tone carefully respectful.

”Because I’m going to go to Little Terreille without
going
to Little Terreille. That will satisfy the court’s concerns about my well-being and still allow me to meet with this person.”

Lucivar narrowed his eyes, considering. ”You could just refuse.”

”I have my own reasons for doing this,” Jaenelle replied in her midnight voice.

And that, Saetan knew, would decide the matter for Lucivar.

Except Lucivar was still studying her. ”If I agree to this, do we get to fuss for the next three days without getting snarled at?”

That’s all it took to change the Queen back into a stuttering, snarling younger sister. ”Who is ’we’?” she asked ominously.

”The family.”

Saetan wondered if anyone else had noticed that the look Daemon gave his brother should have left Lucivar bleeding. And he wondered if Lucivar even realized that, whether he had included or excluded Daemon under the term ”family,” it wasn’t sitting well with the Queen’s Consort. ”Papa!” Jaenelle said, whirling around to face him. ”Witch-child?” he replied mildly, but he could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead as Daemon’s face shifted into a cold, unreadable mask.

She stared at him for a moment, then whirled back to Lucivar. ”Within reason,” she snapped. ”And I get to decide what’s reasonable.”

When Lucivar just grinned at her, she stomped out of the study. The grin faded when he looked at Andulvar. ”Since you’re the Master of the Guard, she should have asked you to make the arrangements.”