"Anything else we need to discuss?" Saetan asked.
Lucivar looked at her, then at Saetan, who, after a pause, dipped his head in the barest of nods.
Lucivar opened the study door and waited.
After bowing to Saetan and Andulvar, Falonar walked out. Since it seemed the proper thing to do. Surreal also bowed to the two men, then followed Falonar out of the study so fast she stepped on his heels.
Swearing, he lengthened his stride, finally stopping when he reached the center of the great hall.
Surreal caught up to him. "Well, that wasn't—" The dislike and anger in his face as he watched Lucivar approach them stopped her.
"Five days of extra guard duty is an insult," Falonar said.
Surreal grabbed two fistfuls of her long tunic to keep from belting him. Fool. Idiot. He should be grateful it wasn't worse.
"It's not an insult," Lucivar replied mildly. "It's fair. You made a mistake, Falonar. Some reparation has to be made for it. You acted, but you also hamstrung yourself by being too cautious."
"I realize what my caution could have cost."
"Yes, you do. Which is why the discipline is fair." Lucivar's mouth curved in a lazy, arrogant smile. "Don't worry about it. You'll stand extra guard duty plenty more times before you've been here a year. I certainly did."
Falonar stared at him. "You?"
The smile sharpened. "Hard to believe that I would err on the side of caution, isn't it? But I wanted to stay in Kaeleer, and I wanted to serve my Queen, so I kept my temper leashed as much as possible—for me. And ended up in that study, facing those two, more times than I care to count." Lucivar paused. "This is Kaeleer. Here, a Warlord Prince's temper is considered an asset to a court."
Falonar took a moment to digest this. Then, courteously, "Extra guard duty doesn't seem like much when a witch could have died."
"Well, there is another part to your... discipline," Lucivar said. He tipped his head toward Surreal. "You get to cope with her until sunrise. Since she looks like she's going to break her teeth unless she gets to yell at a male, it might as well be you." The smile got even sharper. "Of course, you could always offer to warm her bed and see if that buys you any leniency."
Falonar choked. Surreal made a sound like a teakettle ready to boil over.
"You consider spending a night with me a form ofdiscipline!" Surreal shouted. "You prick. You...I would call it a reward!"
Lucivar shrugged. "Please yourself. Just keep in mind that, if you both decide to extend this 'discipline' past tonight, you have to have formal permission from the Steward of the Court. He agreed to overlook that formality until sunrise, but not after that. And this is an area where it isn't wise to push Saetan's temper."
After he left them, Surreal and Falonar eyed each other.
"It would seem that I didn't keep my... interest... in being with you as... restrained... as I had thought since Lucivar noticed it," Falonar said.
Or the High Lord did,Surreal thought. As family patriarch and sexual chaperon, she didn't think much got past that man.
"So," Falonar said warily. "Are you going to yell at me?"
Surreal smiled at him. "Well, sugar, I may not yellat you. With the right incentive, I may just yell."
Chapter Seven
1 / Kaeleer
Lord Jorval settled into a chair in Kartane SaDiablo's sitting room. "Your meeting with the Healer has been delayed."
"Why?" Kartane said sharply. "I had thought it was all arranged."
"It was," Jorval soothed. "But there was an... incident... at the Healer's residence, so it will be a few more days before she can meet with you."
"You could insist," Kartane said. "Perhaps she doesn't realize how important I—"
"It would do no good to insist," Jorval interrupted. "When she comes here, you want her attention on you, not on some domestic trivia."
"Then I suppose I have no choice but to wait."
Jorval rose. "No choice at all."
An incident has occurred that requires postponing...
An incident,Jorval thought as he walked back to his own home. That was how the High Lord had so carefully, so courteously phrased it. Since the men who had been in Halaway to assist the escort had suddenly disappeared, and there was no word from or sign of the escort, he had a good idea what sort of "incident" was delaying Jaenelle Angelline's trip to Little Terreille.
Which meant he had to inform the Dark Priestess that, in all probability, Alexandra was no longer a useful tool.
Hekatah wouldn't be pleased about that, would probably come to Little Terreille in a foul temper—which she would take out on him.
But, perhaps, he could redirect that temper. Perhaps now would be a good time to take care of that other little problem.
Reaching his home, he rushed into his study and penned a quick note to Lord Magstrom.
2 / Kaeleer
"Where is my escort?" Alexandra demanded as soon as she took a seat in the High Lord's study. After being confined for two days, she felt relieved to be out of her room, but she felt no relief at being inthis room—or being withhim.
Saetan leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, resting the long, black-tinted nails against his chin. His gold eyes looked sleepy—just as they had when he'd first seen her.
Conscious of the chill in the room, she pulled her shawl more tightly around herself.
"It's interesting that Osvald is the first person you ask about," Saetan said too mildly.
"Whoshould I have asked about?" Alexandra snapped, fear making her voice sharp.
"Your granddaughter, Wilhelmina. She is recovering from the drugs that bastard gave her. There will be no permanent damage."
"Of course there's no damage. He only gave her a mild sedative."
"What he gave her was a great deal more than amild sedative, Lady," Saetan replied, his own voice turning sharp.
Alexandra hesitated. He was lying. Of course he was lying.
Saetan looked at her, curious. "I keep wondering what sort of payment Dorothea and Hekatah offered you that was worth your granddaughter's life."
She shot out of the chair. "You're insulting!"
"Am I?" he replied, his voice returning to that infuriating—and frightening—mildness.
"I wasn't selling Wilhelmina to Dorothea, I was just trying to get her away from you!"
A queer look came over his face. "Yes, that always seems sufficient justification, doesn't it? Just get the child away from me and be damned to what happens to the child. A lifetime of pain, of humiliation and torture, is certainly better than being with me."
Alexandra settled back in the chair and watched him. He had turned inward, following some private thought—and she didn't think he was talking about Wilhelmina anymore.
"What did you think was going to happen to Wilhelmina?" he asked.
"Osvald was going to get her out of Kaeleer, and then we would take her home."
As Saetan studied her, a deep sadness filled his eyes. "Not a payment then," he said softly, "but a bargaining chip."
"What are you talking about?"
"How were you planning to get Wilhelmina out of Hayll?"
Alexandra stared at him. "She wasn't going to Hayll."
"Yes, she was. Those were the orders, Alexandra. Wilhelmina would have been Dorothea's 'guest' for as long as you were willing to make concessions. How many concessions could you have made to Hayll before your people choked on them and refused to accept you as their Queen any longer? What could you have bargained with then to keep her safe?"
"No," Alexandra said. 'No. Dorothea agreed to help me because—" Because Dorothea was preparing to go to war with this man and had wanted Jaenelle's alleged dark power away from his control. But she couldn't let him know that. "Wilhelmina wasn't a bargaining chip." But wouldn't Jaenelle have become exactly that? A bargaining chip in the game of war? That was different. Jaenelle was obviously already permanently warped by the High Lord's attentions, and ifJaenelle had ended up as Dorothea's "guest"...
With brutal honesty, Alexandra knew that she would never have made any concessions to Hayll to ensure Jaenelle's well-being. She would have told her court about a family sacrifice made for the good of her people. And in truth, she wouldn't have felt more than a twinge of guilt over that sacrifice. Always such a difficult child, always...
"Wilhelmina wasn't a bargaining chip," she said again lamely.
Saetan snorted softly. "Think what you choose."
That casual dismissal, as if it no longer mattered, disturbed her. "What happened to Osvald? Were his wounds at least treated?"
Something queer filled Saetan's eyes. "He was executed. So were the three men who had been waiting for him."
Alexandra stared at him. "What right do you have—"
"He tried to abduct one member of the court and killed another. Did you really expect us to just sit back and swallow that?"
"He wasn't abducting her!" Alexandra shouted. "He was helping her leave this place. That animal attacked him. He had to defend himself."
"He was taking her against her will. That's abduction."
"He was carrying out the wishes of her family."
"She's a grown woman," Saetan snarled. "You have no right to make decisions on her behalf."
"She's mentally fragile. She doesn't have the ability to make—"
"Is that how you deal with anyone who doesn't agree with you?" Saetan's voice rose to a roar. "You declare them mentally incompetent so you can justify locking them away in a place that revels in violating and torturing them?"
"How dare you?"
"Knowing what I know about Briarwood, I dare a great deal."
The air whooshed out of her lungs. His eyes were filled with the hatred he no longer bothered to mask.