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“Is there anything more?” she asked.

“Nothing that needs your attention,” Gray replied.

She considered the phrasing and was fairly certain she’d just been asked to leave.

“Come on, Shira,” she said. “We have drumming tonight, so Maydra is going to serve dinner in a few minutes.”

“I should—” Shaddo jerked, then gave Gray a sharp look.

“This won’t take long,” Gray said, smiling at Cassidy.

Ranon released the Opal lock on the door, and Cassidy and Shira left the room.

“That man has been spending too much time with Jaenelle’s First Circle,” Cassidy muttered. “He’s starting to sound like them.”

“Is that bad?” Shira asked as they walked up to their rooms.

“You couldn’t budge those men with a sledgehammer once they’d set their minds to something.”

Shira laughed. Foolish woman.

Going into her room, Cassidy sat on the bed and brushed a finger over the leather cover of the book. Jared and Lia when they were young. Before their world had turned dark and terrible and bloody. She had never found any journals at Grayhaven from Lia’s younger years. Maybe the woman hadn’t started keeping a journal until she was a little older.

And maybe this would give her a glimpse of the young Queen who, in the last months of her life, had left behind the clues that led to the treasure Cassidy had found.

She opened the book, then closed it and put it on the bedside table. There was always a quiet afternoon or two during Winsol. That was family tradition. She would save the book for one of those days.

Gray waited until Ranon restored the Opal lock on the room. Then he faced the men who formed the First Circle. “A few months ago, Theran told me straight out he intended to break the court and set up Kermilla as the Queen of Dena Nehele.”

“When the sun shines in Hell,” Archerr snarled. “I’ve already had my fill ofthat bitch.”

“Since then, I’ve been going up to the Keep once a week to study with the High Lord, and sometimes Daemon and Lucivar as well. They gave me the training needed to stand as a Queen’s First Escort. This was the last time. By their standards, I’m qualified to serve in a court.”

Silence. Then Talon snorted. “If you meet their standards, no one here is going to dispute your credentials.”

The rest of the men nodded.

“I was also given this.” He called in the paper and set in on the table in front of Powell and Talon.

“Mother Night,” Powell said after reading it through twice. “I didn’t know anyone could write something so devastatingly courteous.”

“Who did write this?” Talon asked.

“The High Lord. Daemon said Saetan was very exact about the Protocol used to demote a member of the court for failure to fulfill his duties.”

“This holds Theran to his contract with the court, but it also strips him of the title of First Escort and ends his status as part of the Queen’s Triangle.” Powell looked at Gray. “The moment you sign a contract with Cassie, the court stands, with or without Theran.”

“Without Theran,” Gray said quietly. “No matter what else happens, the court will stand without Theran.”

He’d had plenty of time to think about that on the way home. He still loved his cousin, still cared about the man. But he wouldn’t want a Warlord Prince who couldn’t be loyal anywhere near his Queen.

“It pains me to say it, but I agree,” Talon said.

“What now?” Ranon asked.

“I was told we should put this aside and enjoy Winsol,” Gray said. “I think that’s what we should do.”

“Any of you who want to visit family, we’ll work out a way to give you a few days’ leave,” Talon said.

Yes, they would put it aside and enjoy Winsol, Gray thought as he went upstairs to wash up for dinner. Men like Shaddo would savor the days with their children. Others would spend a few days with brothers or sisters or parents—the people they had seen only during hurried, secret visits for so many years.

They would visit them now, openly—perhaps for the last time.

That was the truth behind Talon’s words—the acknowledgment that, come spring, not all of them would walk away from the killing fields.

CHAPTER 32

TERREILLE

Theran waited in the front hall for Kermilla. It would have looked, and felt, less clumsy if he’d waited in his study, but he wasn’t sure she would seek him out, and he didn’t want to miss this chance to see her one last time.

He’d known this was coming, had seen it in her eyes after he’d told her about Correne’s death. The males in Dena Nehele weren’t sufficiently civilized for a vivacious young woman like Kermilla, and Correne’s savage execution made her realize she wasn’t as safe here as she’d thought. Being a Queen had never saved any witch from a Warlord Prince’s knife if her actions snapped the leash that held back a formidable temper. Without the security of a court or the presence of more than one man she could trust with her life, leaving was the prudent thing for her to do.

But, Hell’s fire, it hurt that she was leaving the day before Winsol began. Thirteen days of celebration that honored the Darkness; honored Witch, the living myth; celebrated the longest night of the year; and marked the last days of the old year.

Every aristo family still living in the town had invited him and Kermilla to parties or dinners or outings of one kind or another. Nothing overly sophisticated about any of those activities, he supposed, but he’d been looking forward to all of it—and would still have to attend out of duty, if not for pleasure.

Kermilla came down the stairs, hesitating on the last step when she saw him. He walked up to her, almost eye to eye with her since the step gave her a few added inches.

“You’re ready to go?” he asked, taking her hands in his.

“Yes.” She tried, but she couldn’t manage her usual flirtatious smile. “I should have told you sooner that I was needed back in Dharo. I thought . . .” Her voice trailed off.

I guess being with me isn’t enticement enough for you to stay.The thought saddened him. “I have something for you.” It was tempting to add “It’s not much,” but he was afraid she would agree with him, despite how much he’d paid for the gift.

He called in the box and gave it to her.

The excited light in her eyes when she took the box faded when she opened it.


Tags: Anne Bishop The Black Jewels Science Fiction