The Shadow Queen (16 page)

She had bolted. She’d stood in the hallway, trying not to be sick, trying to explain why she couldn’t use the suite.

Theran had listened, tight-lipped and angry, as if her inability to use the suite that had been prepared for her was an insult to his people—or confirmed his own opinion of her inadequacy to be the Territory Queen. Finally he’d said,“The Lady must do as she pleases.”

Close enough to Protocol. Avoiding the wing of the mansion that Theran had chosen as his family’s residence, she quickly explored the rest of the available living quarters and found a suite of rooms that seemed to welcome her, even though the rooms were dusty and clearly hadn’t been used in a long time.

The Blood who had been hired as servants scrambled to give the bedroom and bathroom enough of a cleaning so that she could move in. The mattress and bed linens in the other bedroom were new and hadn’t absorbed the tainted psychic scent that filled the other suite. The look of relief on the servants’ faces when she’d agreed to use them had been painful to see—and had told her more about the Queens who had ruled here than all the words Theran had grudgingly offered on the journey.

This morning he would introduce her to the other Warlord Princes. One hundred men, including Theran. All that was left of their caste after the Queens’ purges had taken so many men who wouldn’t bend to Dorothea’s vision of the Blood. The landen uprisings that had started after Dorothea’s taint had been cleansed from the Realms had taken even more. There must be boys in that caste who weren’t included in that number, but she suspected they were hidden somewhere and were being trained in secret—and were not something she could ask about until she had gained the adult males’ trust.

One hundred Warlord Princes. How was she supposed to choose the twelve males required to make a First Circle?

Jaenelle, thank the Darkness, had offered an answer.

“Sniff my neck?” Cassidy muttered, turning away from the window when someone knocked on the door. “Come in.”

Birdie, the maid assigned to clean her suite, entered with a hesitant smile and a breakfast tray.

“Good morning, Lady Cassidy,” Birdie said. “The Warlord Princes are gathering to meet you, so Maydra—she’s the cook—thought you might like to have your breakfast in peace. And thought you might be feeling a bit nervous in the stomach.”

An undercurrent of fear beneath the words.

She’d been tired last night, and distressed by Theran’s attitude toward her as well as by some of the things Jaenelle had said, but now that she thought about it, that same undercurrent had been in Dryden, the butler, and Elle, the housekeeper, as well. They had been hired because they had experience working around a Queen’s court, but they, and the other servants, were all afraid.

What had those other Queens done to these people?

“Put the tray over there,” Cassidy said. Following Birdie to the little table, she lifted the cover off the dish. Scrambled eggs and buttered toast. A little serving dish of fruit jam. A small pot of coffee, with cream and sugar on the side.

“Thank you,” Cassidy said. “That looks lovely. And please thank Maydra as well. This is exactly the kind of breakfast I need this morning.”

“She’ll be relieved to hear it,” Birdie said. “Elle says we’ll be turning out your rooms for a proper cleaning while you’re selecting the men for your court.”

If Jaenelle was right about how a court usually formed around a Queen, the selecting might not take as much time as everyone thought. Well, there would be plenty of other things to do that would keep her out of the servants’ way for a few hours.

Suspecting this would be the last bit of solitude she would have for most of the day, Cassidy sat down to eat a quiet breakfast.

Then a thought made her snort. She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from spraying toast crumbs all over the table.

Theran Grayhaven would never be hers, but
she
wasn’t the one who would spend the next year on the receiving end of Vae’s attention.

 

*Theran? Theran! Those males are not herding properly. They are supposed to stay in this room to see the Queen. I will fetch them.*

“You don’t need—”

Why bother?
Theran thought as Vae jumped off the platform that had been constructed for Lady Cassidy’s audiences. The little bitch didn’t listen to anything he said anyway, although she had plenty to say to
him.

Of course, since the other men weren’t being held responsible for the dog’s welfare, they had no reason to pay attention to her.

But they were paying attention. Hard not to when a dog was standing on air so that she could bark in a man’s face. And she wasn’t floating at a height where she could nip at their heels, but
was
in a position to nip someone’s ass.

Vae charged around the room, nipping and barking and issuing orders.

*Come back here! It is time to meet the Queen! You there! Stop! Stubborn sheep.*

The men in the room moved closer to the platform. The ones who had been wandering returned, curious about what was causing so much commotion. Some of the men looked amused; some looked a little pissed off and were, no doubt, wondering what kind of trick he might be playing.

No question Ranon was more pissed off than amused. The Shalador Warlord Prince worked his way closer to the platform, gave the dog, who was now floating in front of him, a pointed look, then said, “Grayhaven, what is this?”

I am Vae. I am a Sceltie. I am kindred. I am a witch. I know my Craft. You are male and foolish. And human.*

Ranon blinked. “A witch? She’s a
witch
? That’s really a Purple Dusk
Jewel
?”

*Yes,* Vae replied before Theran could respond. *It is my Birthright Jewel. When I am older, I will make the Offering to the Darkness and get my other Jewel. I am going to help the Queen train her males. Especially Theran. It is time.*

Vae spun around and whapped Ranon in the face with her tail. *Theran? Theran! Go fetch the Queen.*

“Yeah, Theran,” Ranon said, stepping back to avoid being whapped in the face again. “Go fetch.”

Could be worse,
Theran thought as he strode toward the previously unused wing of the mansion. At least Cassidy wasn’t a yapper as far as he could tell. And by the time he escorted Cassidy to the audience room, and the other Warlord Princes had spent that time with Vae, maybe they’d all find the new Queen a lot more palatable.

Maybe eating breakfast hadn’t been such a good idea, Cassidy thought as she and Theran walked down to the audience room.

He was ignoring Protocol by walking on her right to indicate his Jewels were dominant instead of walking on her left to indicate his power was in her service. He wasn’t offering his hand in the traditional escort position so that she could rest her hand on top of his. Maybe he thought it wasn’t necessary to follow those formalities until they were closer to the audience room, but the servants they had passed had noticed.

Prince Theran was sending a message that would trickle through the court and through the Blood who worked in the mansion: the new Queen wasn’t worthy of courtesy or respect.

He was setting her up to fail before she had a chance to try.

But he was still Grayhaven. The Queen’s residence was his family’s home. The town was named after the Grayhaven estate. Theran’s opinion would matter far more than hers.

Theran opened a door and said, “The stairs to the platform are to your left.”

As she walked into the room and climbed the platform’s steps, she was aware of the silence that rippled from the front of the room to the back.

During the hours she’d spent at the Keep yesterday, Jaenelle had looked through her clothes and made suggestions for outfits appropriate for various functions. At first, she’d felt a spike of resentment. She wasn’t a child who needed to be told what to wear. In fact, she was five years older than Jaenelle. Then she realized she was being given the confirmation of a Sister, a fellow Queen, that her choices were correct—and the reason for the exercise had been to give her that confirmation, since she wasn’t likely to find any where she was going.

So she’d dressed with care for this first meeting, but she’d dressed for a working morning in a court—long skirt and matching jacket in a dark green that flattered her red hair and pale skin, along with a pale green shirt.

As she looked at the men who had made the decision to give their people a Queen from another Realm, she felt their disappointment roll over her like a heavy wave. She didn’t dress like a Queen. She didn’t look like what they had imagined.