“Found him, did you?”

Carleton sounded as if it wasn’t the least bit unusual to find a beastie hiding under the pancakes. And it wasn’t unusual, actually. But the little surprises at Perzha’s dinner parties had been shadows, illusions of something real, not an actual critter hiding in the soup.

Daemon reached for his cup of coffee, then picked up a spoon and probed the liquid. When he didn’t feel anything but liquid, he took a cautious sip. “That is some kind of octopus?”

“That,” Perzha said with a delighted smile, “is a weeble. You are the first person outside our village to see a real one.”

Daemon stared. “I beg your pardon?”

“That is a weeble.” She waved a hand, setting all her bracelets jangling. “They might have another name somewhere else, but that’s what we’ve always called them.”

“They’re a food?”

“Other kinds of mollusks and octopods are, but not the weebles. At least, we don’t eat them. They’re quite clever little creatures. Down the beach a ways, it’s too rocky for the fishing boats to be brought to shore, but there are a lot of tidal pools. Well, generations ago, the men here put out traps for crabs and lobsters, but they noticed the catch was much better around the same time the weebles gathered to breed. As you noticed, the weebles can change color to blend in with the background. Normally it’s to make them invisible to predators, but during their mating time, the males use their ability with color for another purpose. Each male stakes out a small tidal pool or a piece of a larger one and does a bit of decorating with stones and seaweed. Then, at night, when the females come to the pools, the males do a display of bright colors to attract the females. It’s like watching all these little rainbows under the surface of the water. Quite lovely.”

“I imagine that display also attracts all the creatures that like to eat weebles,” Daemon said as Carleton set another plate of food in front of him. “Thank you.”

“Best to stick a fork into everything, just in case,” Carleton said cheerfully.

He did exactly that before spreading butter and warm syrup over the weeble-free pancakes.

“Yes, attracting females is always a dangerous business,” Perzha agreed. “And weeble numbers were dropping because predators could devour the females as well as the males before they finished mating. Then a group of men discovered weebles in their traps eating the fish chunks that were meant to be bait for the lobsters and crabs—which were clinging to the outside of the trap, trying to get at the weeble, which, it turns out, is a preferred food. So the men built a few weeble houses as an experiment, setting in a chunk of fresh fish before closing the opening until it was too small for a lobster or crab to enter but a perfect size for a weeble. Wonderful idea. The men would go out in the morning and haul up the traps and take the crabs and lobsters that were clinging to the outside, then tuck in a new piece of food before lowering the house into the water. The weeble would leave the house when it chose, scurrying here and there in order to select its decorative bits, then return. It would do its color display to attract a mate—who discovered that the weeble males who had laid claim to the houses could provide food as well as shelter so that the business of mating could be done in relative safety. Their numbers increased, making it a beneficial arrangement for everyone.”

“Except the crabs and lobsters,” Daemon said, as he cut into the steak.

“Even they benefit in a way, since they can hunt the weebles who have to make do with the tidal-pool love nests.”

“So that’s how the village got its name?”

“Yes. Which is not something we usually share with outsiders.” She smiled at him. “Although, being his brother, you may want to share that information with Prince Yaslana.”

He would have loved to tell Lucivar about the origin of the village’s name, if he could be sure he’d been told the truth and not one of the best damn stories he’d heard in a long time. He could picture Perzha and Jaenelle Angelline sitting around one evening, laughing themselves silly as they created this story about how the village got its name. And who here would ever contradict either Queen?

When the dishes were cleared, Perzha set her empty goblet aside and sighed. “But the next story I have to tell you is a sad one. I’m sure it’s a familiar tale, but that doesn’t make it any less sad.”

“You have some information about Lord Dillon?” he asked.

“Pieced together from gossip and whispers.” She looked at her garden. “Love betrayed leaves its own kind of scars, doesn’t it?”

Even when the betrayal is unintentional, Daemon thought.

“Lord Dillon is the eldest of three sons from a minor aristo family. Regrettably, they have just enough connections to rub elbows with more influential aristo families but not enough influence themselves to be included—or given consideration when it comes to abusing a young person’s heart and honor. It’s a bit like standing in front of the window of a sweetshop and being offered a treat but always being on the wrong side of the glass. From what we could discover, Dillon was bright, charming, and good-looking—and was training to be an escort.

“Shortly after making the Offering to the Darkness, Dillon met a pretty girl from one of the significant Rihlander families and fell in love. The girl was a few years older and had already had several lovers since her Virgin Night. Unfortunately, she was Dillon’s first love, and he believed her when she said he was different from her previous lovers and her feelings for him were real. All indications are he truly loved the girl, and she persuaded the boy to let her teach him the pleasures of sex.” Perzha slanted a glance at Daemon. “Men are darling creatures, but being so easily petted and aroused does make you vulnerable when you come in contact with unscrupulous women.”

“I can’t disagree,” he replied. “So she lured him into bed.”

Perzha nodded. “There were promises of a handfast, if Dillon proved himself to be a capable lover. Believing that she truly loved him, he abandoned his training as an escort—at her request—and devoted himself to learning how to please her. After a few weeks, the girl discovered that Dillon had told his parents about her, despite her insisting that this had to be a ‘discreet’ liaison, and his family actually expected the girl to honor her promise of a handfast. Well, his family line wasn’t good enough for that, so the girl broke things off and set about tarnishing Dillon’s reputation, claiming that she hadn’t been his first, and while he was suitable when a girl wanted a good time, he wasn’t the kind of man a Lady wanted for a husband.

“Dillon’s family was furious and ashamed—and blamed him for their family name being connected to scandal. Fearful of what that would do to the other boys’ chances of making a socially valuable marriage or finding service in more than a District Queen’s court, Dillon’s family did create enough of a stir about the girl’s reputation and her numerous lovers that the girl’s father paid Dillon to leave the city. He left, and his family was relieved to see the back of him.