triangle.
Assuming, of course, the Queen was going to show up.
”Did anyone tell Cat she’s supposed to be here?” Lucivar asked, echoing Daemon’s thought.
Saetan gave Lucivar a bland look. ”I told her. However, Lord Ladvarian had already cornered her to discuss a couple of things. I expect she’ll be along as soon as she can talk herself around whatever he and Kaelas have in mind.” That bland look was then aimed at Daemon.
Daemon met that look with one equally bland while his heart rate kicked up to a gallop-because he had the distinct feeling that whatever Ladvarian and Kaelas wanted to discuss with Jaenelle had to do with him.
He was trying to think of a reasonable excuse to drag Lucivar into the great hall for a minute to ask him why the kindred were so interested in the Consort when Jaenelle rushed into the room.
”Sorry I’m-” She checked when she saw them, and her rush suddenly became cautious. ”Is this family or court?” she asked warily.
”Court,” Saetan replied.
Fascinated, Daemon watched the subtle shift from woman to Queen.
”And what is the court’s pleasure?” Jaenelle asked quietly.
No hint of a sneer or sarcasm in her voice, Daemon decided as he recognized one of the ritual openings for discussion.
”I received a message from Lord Jorval,” Saetan said with equal calm, although his eyes seemed a little too carefully blank. ”A person from a prestigious aristo family has come to Kaeleer seeking the assistance of a Healer for an illness that has baffled all the Healers in Terreille. Since you’re known to be the best Healer in the Realm, he urgently requests that you come to Goth to offer your opinion.”
Lucivar snarled quietly but viciously. A small, but sharp, hand gesture from Andulvar silenced him.
”Jorval also says that, while he’s been assured that the illness is not contagious, it does seem to afflict only males. And since he doesn’t want any harm to come to the males of your court-”
This time Andulvar snorted.
”-he has offered to provide you with an escort while you’re in Little Terreille.”
”NO!” Lucivar exploded into movement, pacing furiously. ”You are
”I can think of a few reasons,” Jaenelle said with dry amusement as she watched Lucivar.
Daemon’s blood sang when her eyes met his for a moment. Then it chilled when he glanced at Saetan and saw something flicker at the back of those golden eyes. What was the High Lord trying to hide behind that deliberately blank gaze-and what would happen if the leash holding it back snapped?
”Did Jorval mention where this person is from? Or anything else that might be useful?” Jaenelle asked, turning back to Saetan while Lucivar paced and swore.
”Only that the short-lived races seem most affected.” Saetan said.
Jaenelle’s lips softened in a hint of a dreamy smile that was malevolent enough to make Daemon shiver. ”The races from the western part of Terreille?” she asked in her midnight voice.
”He didn’t say, Lady.”
Jaenelle nodded thoughtfully. ”I’ll think about it.”
”There’s nothing to think about,” Lucivar snarled. ”You’re not going. You may not remember much of what happened seven years ago,
Daemon studied Lucivar. Behind the fury was fear bordering on panic. He suppressed a sigh, not happy that his first official act as the Consort might be opposing his Queen. But anything that spooked Lucivar so badly wasn’t something Daemon was going to easily agree to.
Then he noticed Jaenelle’s face as she turned toward Lucivar-and wondered how any man would dare oppose Witch now that she had reached maturity and had come into her full.power.
Lucivar froze in midstride as those sapphire eyes fixed on him. His body trembled, but he met her gaze, and his voice was steady as he said quietly, ”The only way you’re going into Little Terreille is by going through me.”
Then he walked out of the study.
Jaenelle’s shoulders slumped for a moment, then straightened again as she turned to face Daemon. ”Please go with him.”
”Why?” Daemon asked too softly.
The Queen stare melted a little into exasperation. ”Because you’re strong enough to hold him back, and I don’t want him getting the boyos riled about something I haven’t even decided to do yet.”
It was the first thing she had asked of him, and he wasn’t sure he could do it. ”What happened seven years ago?”
Her face went death pale, and it took her a moment to answer. ”Why don’t you ask Lucivar? As he said, he remembers it better than I do.”
He waited a few heartbeats. Then, ”How long do you need?”
Now she looked at Saetan. ”Would an hour be convenient?”
”It would be our pleasure to reconvene in an hour,” Saetan said.
”All right,” Daemon said. ”I can hold him for an hour.”
Nodding to acknowledge that she heard him, she hurried out of the room.
Daemon stared at the closed door, fully aware that Andulvar and Saetan were waiting for some indication of what he was going to do. ”I am going to ask him,” he said quietly. ”And if I don’t like the answer, she’s going to have to go through me, too.” He would sacrifice any chance of being her lover if that’s what it took to protect her.
”You’re not going to like the answer,” Saetan said, ”but I wouldn’t worry about having to take a stand. If Jaenelle decides she’s going into Little Terreille, she’s going to have to go through the whole First Circle to do it. Since it isn’t likely that she’ll fight the court that hard over this particular healing, it’s only respectful to allow the Lady the time to reach that conclusion on her own.”
”In that case, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better see what I can do about restraining Lucivar’s temper.”
Lucivar is unhappy, Ladvarian said as he watched Jaenelle stare at the waterfall and tiered pools she had built in this inner garden several years ago. ”I want to think, Warlord,” Jaenelle said quietly. ”Alone.” The Sceltie shifted his feet, thought a moment, then stood firm. He’s snarly and upset and he won’t talk to any of us. This particular smell of anger and fear on Lucivar only happened when Jaenelle or Marian did something to upset the Eyrien. Since Marian hadn’t done anything unusual-he’d already checked-that meant Jaenelle had done something. Or was going to do something.
His lips pulled back in a silent snarl.
As she turned to face him, he saw the large blackwood hourglass resting on her hand. Saying nothing, she turned it over, set it on the stone lip of the lowest pool, and walked to the other end of the garden.
Ladvarian growled softly at the hourglass.
The kindred had trouble understanding the way humans carved up a day into these little chunks called hours and minutes. They had understood easily enough that sometimes human females wanted to be left alone, but, for a while, they had come back too soon and had gotten snarled at. So the High Lord and the Lady had made these hourglasses because they were easy to understand. If the sand was all at the bottom, the female was ready to play again. If it wasn’t, the kindred would go away without disturbing her.
Jaenelle had two sets of hourglasses. Each set had an hourglass sized for one hour, a half hour, and a quarter hour. Jaenelle used the set made of light-colored wood as a request for private time and could be interrupted if necessary. Witch, the Queen, used the set made from blackwood, and those hourglasses were a silent command.
Ladvarian trotted out of the garden, accepting the dismissal.
He wouldn’t challenge his Queen, but he had learned that, if nipped sharply enough, Lucivar would lash out.
