Dillon pushed away from the wall and approached the small table, which was nothing more than a token barrier between them.

“There is something I’d like to say first.”

“Go ahead.”

Dillon let out a shaky breath. “I’ve made bad choices. Other people’s actions may have spurred those choices, but I’m the one who made them. I’ve used some girls in order to get money from their families, and I let myself become just like the girls who had used me, and that’s my fault and my shame. This isn’t who I wanted to be.”

“You wanted to be an escort and serve in a Queen’s court. You wanted to be a husband someday and live an honorable life,” Sadi said quietly.

“Yes. That’s what I wanted.” Dillon huffed out a bitter laugh. “No chance of having any of that now, is there?”

“There is a chance.” Sadi called in sheets of paper and laid them on the table. “Here are the names of six District Queens—two in Dharo, two in Nharkhava, and two in Scelt. As a favor to Yaslana, and to me, these Queens are willing to give you a place in their courts—most likely as a Third Circle escort, since you haven’t completed your formal training. You’ll receive that training in any court listed there. You’ll find information about the courts and the Territories where they’re located. Think carefully about what you want before you choose.”

“I can serve in a court?” District Queens meant small territories, a handful of villages at the most, in Territories far away from Askavi—places Rihlander aristo families wouldn’t know. Places that, and people who, wouldn’t know his past except for the Queen, her Steward, and her Master of the Guard. A fresh start. A real second chance.

“The Queen you choose will send me a report every quarter. If I’m satisfied that you are behaving honorably and being diligent in your training, I will supply you with a stipend to help with your expenses. I also want something in return—that you repay whatever unkindness you visited on the girls here in Askavi by being kind to girls who might be overlooked, whether it’s as small as giving someone a compliment that brightens her day or asking a girl for a dance because you noticed no one else has asked her.”

“Why are you doing this? Why isn’t Prince Yaslana here to grind my bones into the floor?”

“You helped a woman and her daughter. I think that choice was a reflection of who you had been before you met Lady Blyte—and, maybe, who you still are.” Then Sadi smiled. “Besides, Jillian settled things between you to everyone’s satisfaction—except, perhaps, yours. As much as Yaslana dislikes you right now, your arrival in Ebon Rih made him aware of a problem that can’t be allowed to continue, so he left your fate with me. As to why I’m doing this?” The smile faded. “I know how much a life can change when a man is given a second chance.”

Sadi walked to the door and stopped. “You’ll be escorted back to your cousin’s house in Riada. When you decide which Queen you would like to serve, inform Lord Rothvar. He’ll arrange for a Coach and driver to take you there.”

“Thank you, Prince.”

He couldn’t interpret the look in Sadi’s eyes when the Prince said, “Don’t give us a reason to regret this decision.”

Then Sadi was gone.

While he waited for the Eyrien who would escort him to his cousin’s house, Dillon read over the information about the six courts. For the first time in a long time, he felt hopeful about his future.

* * *

* * *

Jillian wasn’t sure what Prince Yaslana wanted her to say. She wasn’t sure if he knew what he wanted her to say.

“You want to send me away?”

The muscles in his jaw worked, and he didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Want to? No. But it has been suggested that you would benefit from experience outside of Ebon Rih.”

What did that mean? “Like a visit to Dhemlan?”

Yaslana winced. “That’s a bit far.”

Far? She accompanied Marian and the children whenever the hearth witch wanted to visit Amdarh to shop or see a play. The SaDiablo family had a town house there, and they all usually stayed in the side of the town house kept for guests.

“This would be more than a visit,” Yaslana said. “This would be a kind of apprenticeship in a court. Sadi made the inquiries and received consent. He can tell you more about it. If you’re interested. Not that you have to be interested. You’re young. But . . . something different for a while.”

Something different. Yes. Would Dillon have seemed so attractive if she hadn’t been looking for something different? But going away to somewhere that wasn’t home? Living among people she didn’t know? Exciting but . . .

“Could I bring a friend?” she asked.

Yaslana finally looked at her, and she had the feeling he was bracing himself because he knew what she was about to say.

“Who did you have in mind?”

When she told him, he swore softly, vigorously. Finally, he said, “It could take a few days, but I’ll see if it can be arranged.”

She watched him fly away and still wasn’t sure what he’d wanted her to say. She’d have to talk to Marian about finding someone to help with the children, and talk to Nurian, of course. But Yaslana wouldn’t have mentioned it at all if he didn’t believe she was ready to fly on her own. She was sure of that much.

THIRTY-NINE

Lucivar called in the double-buckle fighting belt that Eyriens wore in battle, then sheathed a fighting knife that was bigger, heavier, and a lot meaner than the hunting knife worn as standard dress. A palm-sized knife went into the sheath between the belt buckles. Two more knives were sheathed in the boots.

Chain mail settled over the light leather vest. Metal-studded leather gauntlets closed over wrists and forearms.

Last, he created two Ebon-gray shields—one skintight, the other barely a breath above his skin.

He looked at the other man in the room and nodded. “I’m ready.”

He wasn’t getting ready to attend some fancy aristo dance.

Lucivar Yaslana was getting ready for war.

* * *

* * *

Lucivar scanned the crowded room filled with bright dresses and too-bright voices. Finding the enemy, he called in his war blade and moved forward a couple of steps, then braced as the unleashed sexual heat that flowed in behind him washed over the crowd of aristo Blood, making them gasp, making them want, making them think that the heat promised hot pleasure when what it really promised was frigid pain.

He had come for war. The Sadist had come to play.