At first, he’d thought Vania’s greedy lust was going to spoil all their plans. But after the pale bitch-Queen had ripped into the males of the court because of it, they’d all gone off to lick their emotional wounds and hadn’t been seen for the rest of the day.
Jaenelle’s fury would have been a gift that had fallen into his hands if Wilhelmina Benedict had been in her room. But she wasn’t, and he had no idea where to look for her. If she was with the other bitches, he couldn’t approach her. He didn’t want any of them taking special notice of him before he was ready to disappear.
Soon, he thought as he returned to his own room. Soon.
”You almost won that round,” Jaenelle offered, trying not to look too gleeful as she tallied up the scores.
Daemon bared his teeth in a poor imitation of a smile. ”My deal?”
Nodding, Jaenelle busily turned the paper over, drew a line down the middle, and wrote their names at the top.
Daemon picked up the cards and began shuffling the deck.
Hell’s fire, he shouldn’t be having
A game board with colored stones and bone discs with symbols etched on one side. A hand of cards. And the convoluted interaction between them. He could picture the coven sitting around on a stormy winter afternoon, putting this game together piece by piece, building one variation off another, adding bits from other games distinct to their own cultures, until they had created something that was pure torture for the male brain. He particularly despised the wild card game because the player in control of the board when the wild card turned up could call for a different variation-which could turn a good hand and game plan into garbage.
There had to be a way to turn that to his advantage. Had to…
Continuing to shuffle the cards, Daemon studied the game board carefully, studied the stones and the bone discs. Thought about how each piece
Yes, that would work. That would work quite well.
”Which variation do you want to play?” Jaenelle asked as she placed the stones and discs in their starting positions.
Daemon gave her the smile that used to terrify the Queens in Terreille. ”Variation twenty-seven.”
Jaenelle just frowned at him. ”Daemon, there is no variation twenty-seven.”
He dealt the cards and purred, ”There is now.”
Titian tucked her feet up on the window seat and wrapped her arms around her knees. ”It’s good you’ve come to Kaeleer.”
Surreal stared out the window. But the night-darkened glass didn’t show her anything but her own reflection- and that made her think of the questions that had gone unanswered for too long. ”Why didn’t we come here before?” she asked quietly. ”Why didn’t you go home after you got away from Kartane?” She hesitated. ”Was it because of me?”
”But what?” Surreal snapped. ”If you had gone home, you wouldn’t have had to whore for food and shelter. If you had gotten out of Terreille, you wouldn’t have died so damn young. What reason is good enough to balance those things?”
”I loved my father,” Titian said softly. ”And I loved my brothers. Rape is punishable by execution, Surreal. If I had gone home as soon as I escaped from Kartane, my father and brothers would have gone to Hayll to kill him.”
Surreal stared at her. ”How in the name of Hell did they expect to get past all of Dorothea’s guards in order to get to Kartane?”
”They would have died,” Titian said simply. ”And I didn’t want my father and brothers to die. Can you understand that?”
”Not really, since I’ve spent most of my life preparing for the day when I can kill Kartane. Now, if it had been your mother…” Surreal tried to smile and couldn’t. ”What do you think your father would have said about your choice?”
Titian’s smile was rueful. ”I
”And if you hadn’t ended up in Terreille, under Kartane, you would have been a Queen and a Black Widow.”
”I still
”I’m sorry,” Surreal said, not sure how to express regret without giving insult.
”Don’t shoulder regrets, little witch,” Titian said gently as she got to her feet. ”And don’t shoulder the burden of anyone’s actions but your own.” She held out her hand. ”Come on. You’ll need your wits about you if you’re sparring with Lucivar tomorrow.”
Surreal rose wearily and followed Titian. Between that scene with Vania at midday, the extra workout with Falonar, and coping with the aftermath of Jaenelle’s fury, she was more than ready to crawl into bed. She had hugged more distressed males that day than she had in her entire life. Which reminded her of something else. ”How
”You set your boundaries,” Titian replied as they reached the corridor near Surreal’s room. ”You decide what you’re willing to let them do for you and what you have to do for yourself. Then you tell them-gently. This is Kaeleer, Surreal. You have to handle the males-” Titian froze. Her nostrils flared.
”Titian?” Surreal asked, startled by the awful expression on her mother’s face. ”What’s wrong?”
”Where’s the High Lord?” Titian snarled. Not waiting for an answer, she ran for the nearest staircase.
Surreal raced after her, catching up to her when Titian jerked to a halt in front of a door.
Titian banged the door once with her fist, then flung it open. ”High Lord!”
A muffled sound came from the adjoining room.
Titian flung that door open and rushed into the room. Surreal rushed in behind her, then stopped abruptly.
Saetan froze in the act of reaching for the dressing robe that was on his bed. He slowly straightened up and turned to face them.
Surreal couldn’t stop herself from giving him one quick, professional-and approving-glance.
Titian didn’t seem to notice that she had walked in on a naked, and now irritated, man.
”There’s a tainted male in the Hall,” Titian said abruptly.
Saetan stared at her for a moment. Then he grabbed the robe, said tersely, ”Where?” and was out the door, with Titian at his heels, before Surreal could gather her wits.