The Shadow Queen (35 page)

She frowned at him, and he suppressed a sigh of annoyance.

“What do you want me to say?” Saetan asked. “Do I think Daemon is entitled to his fury? I certainly do. Do I think his punishment was just? I’ve already said so. In fact, his solution probably will do nothing more than buy a little time for him to confirm what he already suspects about Rhea’s friend. I doubt she’ll live all that much longer. If Daemon doesn’t kill her, another Warlord Prince will.”

“I understand that he’s uneasy about another woman being so attracted to him that she acts foolishly, but—”

“Take off the blinders, Jaenelle,” Saetan snapped. “You’re being obtuse about this because it’s you and Daemon, and because of how he responded last spring when that witch tried to eliminate you in order to have him. But if Lucivar had found another woman in his bed, trying to play this particular game, and had shrugged the incident off instead of doing something about her, you would have pinned him to a wall, either as his Queen—”

“Former Queen,” Jaenelle said.

“—or as his sister. And before you use ‘former’ in front of ‘Queen’ again, Lady, I suggest you review what the term ‘life-time contract’ means.”

She blinked. Shifted her weight from one hip to the other. Frowned at him. “You’re really feeling pissy about this.”

Insulted because the word “pissy” dismissed his feelings in a way he wouldn’t tolerate, he let his temper slip from its sheath, sharp and lethal. He pushed away from the sofa, allowing himself one slash of power to relieve some of the rage.

Jaenelle pressed her lips together and studied the pile of ash that, moments before, had been a sofa.

“My apologies, High Lord,” she said quietly. “Please tell me what I’m not seeing.”

The formality of the words no longer made this discussion personal. He appreciated that. He didn’t want to fight with his daughter, but he was more than willing to enlighten his Queen.

“First,” he said as he prowled in front of the destroyed sofa, “you’re forgetting that when Daemon was a pleasure slave, the kind of gathering Rhea had arranged at her country house had been his hunting ground. Better than anyone else there, he would have recognized another hunter.”

“Hunter.” She didn’t make it a question, which could be interpreted as doubt, but her tone asked for confirmation.

“Indulge me for a moment in a possible scenario.” Saetan waited for her nod of consent. “Daemon walks into his room at the Province Queen’s country house and finds a woman waiting for him, a woman who has been openly flirting with him and now indicates that she wants the kind of attention a married man reserves for his wife. He demands that she leave, and she does, wearing his shirt. A month later, a package arrives at the Hall, addressed in such a way that you’re the most likely person to open it, even though it’s not blatantly aimed at you. And inside the package is your husband’s shirt, smelling of another woman’s perfume. Smelling of another woman. And there’s a note, carefully phrased, that says something like ‘Hope your wife didn’t notice that a shirt was missing.’ What would you do?”

“Since she was clearly trying to hurt my husband by sending that package, I would find her, and we would have a little chat.”

A razored chill in her voice. A look in her sapphire eyes.

Yes, she and the woman who sent that package would have a little chat—and the webs Jaenelle would weave around the bitch would be a far more terrifying punishment than the physical penalty Daemon had devised.

And that, Saetan realized, was the reason Jaenelle didn’t understand. She
knew
the depth of Daemon’s loyalty, so she would react as though he was under attack and move to defend her husband—in the same way she had always responded whenever she thought her father was under attack.

Remembering
how
she responded to attacks on her family, he pulled back. Chained his own temper as he considered the best way to explain.

“Although,” Jaenelle added thoughtfully, “I suppose another woman would either file a complaint with the Province Queen or the District Queen who ruled her hometown.”

“And some of the men would have filed a complaint as soon as they got home, especially if they felt vulnerable because they had young children, and a charge of infidelity could end with paternity being denied at their children’s Birthright Ceremony.” Saetan shook his head. “I think once Daemon begins making discreet inquiries about that Lady’s activities, he’ll find that a number of complaints
had
been submitted—but were somehow lost before they reached someone with enough power or authority to make the woman’s activities public.”

“You don’t think this was about Daemon?”

“It wasn’t about Daemon—and it wasn’t about you. Not this time. Oh, I think she would have enjoyed the opportunity to bed him—which only proves she’s an arrogant fool—but I think she was more interested in having the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan owing her for her silence.”

“I see. Blackmail.”

Saetan nodded. “She’s not the first to play this game. She won’t be the last.”

“You didn’t know about her?”

“Things can always be hidden, witch-child. The ruler of a Territory depends on the integrity of the Province Queens and District Queens to keep the land and the people in balance. If I’d known about this bitch, she wouldn’t still be among the living.”

A memory. A flash of thought that made him wonder if he had known about her.

He locked that thought away until he could consider it in private.

“What happens now?” Jaenelle asked.

“That will be for Daemon to decide,” Saetan replied. “The real question now isn’t about the witch who likes to play this game. The real question is whether Lady Rhea was aware of the game. Did she know what her friend was doing at these house parties? If she did, her silence was tacit approval. Even if she didn’t know, even if she disposed of the complaints because she didn’t believe they could be true . . . Well, everything has a price.”

As he came abreast of her, he stopped his prowling.

“Daemon is going to ask Rhea to dissolve her court and step down,” Jaenelle said.

“Yes.”

“Won’t the rest of the Queens and their courts wonder why she’s stepping down?”

“He rules Dhemlan, witch-child, and he wears a Black Jewel,” Saetan replied dryly. “I doubt anyone is going to ask.”

Obviously there were a few things Daemon left out when he’d told Jaenelle about this incident. Like the fact that Rhea had pissed herself when Daemon exploded into the drawing room. His rage and his opinion of her friend left no doubt in anyone’s mind that Prince Sadi now viewed Lady Rhea and her friend as enemies.

“I imagine Daemon was quite upset when he arrived home,” Saetan said.

“You could say that,” Jaenelle replied, sounding vague.

“Is everything all right between you?” He hadn’t seen any signs of distress or sensed any distance between Daemon and Jaenelle when they arrived at the Keep. But Daemon had side-stepped questions about what had happened after he told Jaenelle about this incident. Not that it was any of his business, but . . . Hell’s fire. They were his children, so he was damn well going to make it his business. “Did you work things out?”

Jaenelle’s face blazed with color, and she looked everywhere but at him.

“Oh,” she said. “Yeah. We worked things out pretty well.”

“I see,” he said faintly. Maybe he wouldn’t make it his business after all.

He cleared his throat to find his voice. “In that case, why don’t we join the rest of the family? Our guests should be arriving anytime now.”

“Won’t that be fun?”

Not sure how to judge the words, he simply guided her to the door, and said, “I don’t know about fun, but it should be interesting.”

 

Lucivar was waiting for them when they stepped through the Gate that brought them from the Keep in Terreille to the Keep in Kaeleer.

Theran wasn’t sure if that was because Lucivar knew all of them or because he was probably considered the least dangerous of the three men who were waiting to pass judgment on him and Gray and, possibly, all of Dena Nehele.

“Lady Cassidy,” Lucivar said, tipping his head in the slight bow that indicated respect from someone of his rank.

“Prince Yaslana,” Cassidy replied. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

For you, maybe,
Theran thought. He expected to dance around questions that were no one’s business, and since he wasn’t there by choice, he didn’t expect any part of this evening to be a pleasure.

Lucivar gaveTheran and Gray a nod of greeting,then said,“Why don’t we join the others and take care of all the introductions?”

Cassidy smiled as she placed her left hand on top of Lucivar’s right, accepting his offer of escort. “I’m looking forward to seeing Jaenelle again. There are a couple of things I’d like to talk to her about.”

Jaenelle,
Theran thought as he and Gray followed Lucivar and Cassidy.
Not Lady Angelline. Jaenelle.

An unintentional reminder that Cassidy knew the Queen who had ruled Ebon Askavi well enough to address her casually. Should he warn Gray about who—and what—Jaenelle Angelline had been?

When Lucivar opened the sitting room door, Theran still hadn’t decided how much to tell Gray about the people they were going to see. Then it was too late to decide because as the people in the room turned to greet the newcomers, Gray rushed toward the golden-haired woman standing next to Daemon Sadi and stopped when he got close enough to touch her. His face was filled with awed delight, and he looked at her as if he’d spent his life in a desert and she was the pool of water he’d searched for.

“Ladies, this is Prince Jared Blaed Grayhaven and Prince Theran Grayhaven,” Lucivar said. “Gentlemen, this is—”

“The Queen,” Gray said, sounding a little breathless as he stared at Jaenelle.

Jaenelle smiled. “I was the Queen. Now—”

“She’s still the Queen.”

Three male voices, each sounding equally annoyed.

“—I’m Daemon’s wife.”

“The Lady honors me,” Daemon purred.

Oh, the look on Gray’s face. The look in his eyes as he gave Daemon, Lucivar, and the High Lord an assessing glance before focusing on Jaenelle.

“Of course you are,” Gray said. The words sounded sincere. The tone said he was siding with the other males.

Jaenelle studied Gray through narrowed eyes. Then she shook her head and sighed. “Why do I bother arguing with any male from your caste?”

“Because it’s entertaining?” Lucivar replied.

“Before we throw our guests into the family game of ‘snap and snarl,’ why doesn’t someone finish the introductions?” Saetan said.

The Eyrien woman standing near the High Lord clapped a hand over her mouth to try to muffle her laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But it’s a perfect description of some of these discussions.”

“The woman who finds me amusing is my wife, Marian,” Lucivar said.

This Purple Dusk-Jeweled witch was married to
Yaslana
? How did she survive?

As soon as the introductions were made, Jaenelle said,“If you gentlemen will excuse us, Marian and I would like some time for a private chat with Cassidy before dinner.”

Leaving him and Gray alone with Lucivar, Daemon, and the High Lord. Could the evening get any worse?

Of course it could. If Cassidy complained about him, Marian and Jaenelle would tell their husbands, and the odds of his surviving long enough to get home . . .

Who was he kidding? If eitherYaslana or Sadi turned on him, he had no chance of surviving.

A bottle of wine was opened and glasses were filled. As everyone else settled comfortably, Theran braced himself for the interrogation about Dena Nehele and Cassidy’s court.

If they intended to question him, they never got the chance because Gray blurted out, “Cassie doesn’t want to put down roots.”

Something quiet, terrible, and predatory filled the room. Something he’d never felt anyplace else or in anyone else—not even Talon, who was the darkest-Jeweled male back home.

“Explain,” Saetan said softly.

“She brought seeds from her mother’s garden,” Gray said, “but she doesn’t want to plant them, doesn’t want them to grow in Dena Nehele soil.”

A moment’s silence as that terrible feeling faded from the room. Then Daemon said, “That’s a prudent decision, Gray. Windblown seeds could spread for miles.”

Gray looked stricken, and Theran wanted to erase Daemon’s words, even though he’d basically said the same thing earlier that day.

“What about bulbs?” Lucivar said. “Something that could be contained in pots? Marian does that in her garden when she wants a particular plant but wants to control where it grows.”

“So does Jaenelle,” Daemon said.

“That’s certainly a possibility,” Saetan agreed. “But perhaps finding common ground would be a better idea for this first year.”

“Common ground?” Gray asked.

“For example, some form of daisy grows in most of the Territories in Kaeleer,” Saetan said. “If you put them all together, you’ll notice differences, but if someone saw one growing in its own soil, it would be recognized as ‘daisy.’ Maybe you should see what plants are native to Dena Nehele that would look similar to the seeds Cassie brought with her.”

“A flower bed like that would remind her of Dharo but still belong to the place she now calls home,” Daemon said.

“I don’t know what the plants look like,” Gray said.

“Write to Lord Burle,” Daemon replied. “Ask him for descriptions of the plants that come from the seeds Cassie brought with her.”

“But he doesn’t know about gardens,” Gray protested. “He told me that when he was in Dena Nehele.”

“He has a wife who knows about gardens,” Saetan replied. “A wife who will remember exactly what seeds she gave her daughter. But you send your request to Lord Burle whether he knows about gardens or not.”