“You’re going to need help, Lucivar,” Daemon said when the sun set on that second day and they were finally alone for a few minutes. “Someone besides Marian. Someone you can trust who won’t be intimidated when dealing with Queens who wear darker Jewels.”

“Who?” Frustrated, Lucivar raked a hand through his hair. “Every Eyrien who works for me will stand with me on a killing field, but every one of them has had his fill of dealing with Queens.”

“Not to mention that most of them would rather chew off his own fingers than deal with paperwork,” Daemon said dryly.

“Andulvar didn’t have to deal with paperwork. If there was a problem, he went to that village and killed what couldn’t be fixed.”

“That might not have been how he handled things when he walked among the living,” Daemon pointed out.

They both knew he wanted to ask Daemon to deal with the paperwork—and they both knew why he couldn’t. Daemon already had enough under his hand.

“Rothvar is your second-in-command when it comes to defending Ebon Rih—and now all of Askavi. You need someone who can act as your second-in-command for the business side of ruling the Territory.”

“Someone who isn’t Eyrien or Rihland, someone who is willing to deal with paperwork and knows what is important and what is crap, someone who can’t be intimidated by darker-Jeweled Queens. Who can do that, Bastard? Tell me who I can trust who can do that.”

Lucivar looked over as the door opened, and said, “Hell’s fire.”

Karla gave him a bright smile and said, “Kiss kiss.”

FORTY-ONE

Dillon listened to the raised voices in the parlor and winced as he looked at his cousin’s pale face. “I’m sorry, Terrence. I never meant to cause trouble for your family. Is your father going to lose his position in the Riada Queen’s court?”

“Dunno.”

Seeing the misery in Terrence’s eyes, Dillon suspected that the family’s social standing in the village was going to be nonexistent because they had allowed him to stay after his aborted romance with Jillian.

With the women’s voices a shrill counterpoint to the men’s shouts, Dillon wasn’t sure he’d heard someone knock on the front door until the sound came a second time. When none of the servants appeared to answer it, Dillon opened the door.

Lucivar Yaslana stepped inside. “Lord Dillon.”

“Prince.”

Yaslana nodded to Terrence, then looked toward the parlor. He didn’t ask who was shouting or why. He just opened the parlor door and walked in—and everyone stopped talking.

The Warlord Prince of Askavi wagged a finger at Dillon and Terrence. “You two, in here.” He waited for them, then looked at the adults in the room before focusing on Dillon. “The matter has been settled. The witch who destroyed your reputation and smeared your honor has been broken back to basic Craft. Reparation will be made to every man she deceived. While your actions weren’t prudent where she was concerned, lots of young men go through a stage where they think with the head behind their zippers instead of the head above their shoulders.”

Dillon choked. Terrence wheezed.

“And if there is a man here who didn’t have sex with the woman he married before the contract was signed, let him step forward,” Yaslana continued.

No one stepped forward. Women blushed. Men studied the carpet just beyond their shoes.

Now Yaslana looked at Terrence’s father. “It will take a couple more days before arrangements can be made to send Lord Dillon to the court he’s chosen. If you’re not comfortable having him stay with you, I’ll arrange to have him stay at The Tavern.”

“No, no. Better for the boy to be with his family.”

“I agree, but you might be criticized for that compassion, and I wouldn’t want obliging me to cause problems for you.” He looked around the room. “But if you do have problems, I want to know, because what happened to Lord Dillon could have happened to anyone’s son, and that is something your neighbors shouldn’t forget.”

Dillon and Terrence walked out with him. At the front door, Yaslana paused. “You make a decision yet?”

“Almost,” Dillon replied. “I decided against the two courts in Scelt. Not that I wouldn’t like to visit there someday, but I can’t imagine living in a place overrun by dogs who poke their noses into everyone’s business.”

Yaslana huffed out a laugh and muttered something that sounded like “May the Darkness have mercy on me.”

As he opened the front door, Dillon gathered his courage and said, “Prince? Could I see Jillian before I leave?”

Yaslana stared at him. “That will depend on whether or not Jillian wants to see you.”

Dillon and Terrence stood in the doorway and watched Lucivar Yaslana walk down the street.

“I’ve never been to another Territory,” Terrence said. “Never considered going someplace else for part of my training. Maybe you could let me know what it’s like?”

Dillon felt surprise as well as pleasure. “You want to stay in touch?”

“I do.”

His parents didn’t want any contact with him. Neither did his brothers. But here, where he hadn’t expected anything but reluctant tolerance, he had found a friend—and family.

Terrence smiled shyly. “Maybe I could even visit after you’ve earned some time off.”

Dillon returned the smile. “I’d like that.”

FORTY-TWO

Jillian led Daemon Sadi to the sitting room in her sister’s eyrie. “I’ve made coffee, if you’d like some.”

“I would. Thank you.” Sadi called in a box and held it out. “I brought these.”

“From the Sweet Tooth?”

“No.”

She waited until she was in the kitchen to open the plain white box. Fresh-baked pastries that she was pretty sure came from the bakery on Riada’s main street. Nothing fancy, but the taste made up for the lack of fanciness. She filled a dish with the treats, then added it to the tray that already held two mugs of coffee and napkins. Returning to the sitting room, she set everything out on a table.

“Did Lucivar tell you about the apprenticeship in a court?” Sadi asked.

“He said you had talked to a Queen and would tell me about it. He also said you would have to decide about me bringing a friend.” She handed him a mug of coffee and felt bold and a little reckless when she said, “Have you decided?”