“Must have been a good thought to distract you from cake,” he teased.

She felt the heat in her face and said nothing.

“We’ll take the large plate of assorted cakes and two cups of coffee,” Sadi said.

“That’s all you want?” The girl licked her lips—and the room instantly turned cold.

“Yes, that’s all I want,” he replied too softly.

The girl hurried back to the counter to fill their order.

The room returned to its previous temperature.

“What are you reading now?” Jillian asked, hoping to draw his thoughts toward something other than the girl’s inappropriate invitation. “For fun, I mean?”

For a moment, Sadi stared at her with gold eyes that looked sleepy and glazed. Then he released a breath and returned from whatever dark place he’d been in for that moment. As they ate some of the cakes and drank coffee, he told her about the books he was reading. Some sounded terribly dull—not that she would say that—but she called in her small notebook and pencil and wrote down the titles of some mysteries that sounded like fun. Then . . .

“You read romances? Why?”

He raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Why not?”

“But you know about lovemaking and all that stuff.” Jillian blushed.

Sadi leaned closer. “I saw a copy of the book on Beale’s desk in the butler’s pantry.” His voice felt like a warm breath against her cheek. “And while I shudder to imagine the Hall’s butler and cook doing . . . that . . . I confess to a macabre curiosity as to why Beale is reading it.”

“Maybe it’s too . . . informative . . . for some of the younger servants at the Hall, and Beale saw one of them reading the book and confiscated it?”

“Oh, Mother Night, I hope so.”

He sounded so relieved she had to laugh.

“Have you had enough to eat?” he asked.

Jillian looked at the last four frosted, fancily decorated cakes. “Yes. Plenty.”

“In that case . . .”

She saw the small gold coin he held between thumb and forefinger. Then it was gone.

He paid the bill and escorted her out of the shop.

“Now what do we do?” Jillian asked.

Spotting two Rihlander Warlords walking down the street, Sadi met their eyes. Jillian saw no gesture, heard no command, but the men changed direction and joined them at a point on the sidewalk where they wouldn’t be seen by anyone looking out the shop’s windows.

“We need your assistance,” Sadi said. He took his wallet out of an inner pocket in his black jacket and handed each man several silver marks. “Please purchase two of the boxes of cakes—the four-cake size.” He turned to her. “Do you remember the color of the decorations on the cakes we didn’t finish?”

“Two had blue flowers and two of the cakes had yellow trim,” she replied.

“If you see a box with that combination, buy that one in particular,” Sadi said.

“What if someone asks why?” the scruffier-looking Warlord asked.

“Because your auntie is visiting and the blue flowers look like the ones in her garden,” the other one said. “I’ll look for that box.” He hesitated. “Then what do we do?”

“Wait for us.” Sadi gave them a smile that had them hunching their shoulders.

Jillian and Sadi waited a couple of minutes before strolling back to the shop.

“You can wait out here with Khary,” Sadi said.

٭I am waiting outside? Again?٭

The Sceltie sounded more relieved than disappointed. Since Khary lived at the Hall and knew the man better than she did, Jillian took it as a sign that Prince Sadi wasn’t as calm as he seemed.

“Yes.” Sadi looked at Jillian.

“I was the one who started this,” Jillian replied. “If there is an explanation, I would like to hear it.”

“Very well.” Sadi opened the shop door and escorted her inside. He stepped up to the counter. Jillian lagged behind, not eager to draw attention to herself. She could have been wrong about what she’d seen. If she was, she was causing trouble for people. Dillon would say she was acting like a child.

“I’d like to speak to the owner of this shop.” Sadi’s cold civility was as much of a warning as a blade being pulled from a sheath.

“She’s not available, but . . .”

Jillian could see the girl’s face, but Sadi’s body blocked the rest of her. The girl didn’t say anything—at least not out loud—and Jillian didn’t know what she might have done. But the next instant, Sadi smiled a cold, cruel smile—the kind of smile that Jillian had never seen before and hoped never to see again.

The girl backed away from the counter.

“She’s not available? Really?” Sadi said too softly.

A moment later a roll of thunder filled the building. The two Warlords set the boxes of cakes on a table. They looked at her, then at the door.

Yes, Jillian thought, viewing everything as if she were on the edge of a violent, terrible storm. If the warning turned into something more, the Warlords would do their best to get out of the shop alive—and would do their best to take her with them. But the girl behind the counter, being the target of that cold rage, would be forfeit.

A woman rushed out of the back of the shop. “What’s going—” Seeing Sadi, she froze.

٭Jillian?٭

Recognizing Rothvar’s voice, she looked over her shoulder. He stood outside the shop, his Eyrien war blade in one hand, a fighting knife in the other. If he walked into the shop right now, he would die. She knew it. So did Rothvar. But he would walk into the shop and try to protect her because she was Nurian’s sister.

٭I’m all right.٭

“P-Prince?” the woman said. “Is there something I can do for you?”

Jillian was sure everyone could feel the effort Sadi was making to step back from the killing edge. Again.

“You can explain why you’ve been selling cakes left by the customers eating here as if they were fresh and untouched,” he said.

“You’re mistaken, Prince. We always offer to box up anything that is left for our customers to take home. If they don’t want the cakes, they’re set aside on that glass-covered tray and sold as remainders at a steep discount at the end of the day. Or my employees are permitted to take the remainders home with them.”

Sadi stared at the woman, then looked at the girl. “It would seem you weren’t informed of a change in policy.”