“Lady,” Dryden said.
One word. Gray stiffened, but she felt the change in Ranon and knew the Shalador Warlord Prince was rising to the killing edge in response to Dryden’s voice. She reached back and planted her hand against Ranon’s chest, her touch a light chain that was the only thing holding him back.
The other men, who had been loitering to stretch their legs after the Coach ride, moved with purpose now, and the Warlord Princes among them were all rising to the killing edge. As Talon’s second-in-command, if Ranon’s temper snapped the leash, the others would go with him.
And she sensed nothing that would explain the reaction of any of the men—until she began to probe the mansion and picked up psychic scents that were familiar . . . and painful.
“You have visitors, Lady,” Dryden said. “From Dharo. They arrived two days ago. I did inform the Lady that you were not at home, but she said she was a friend and insisted that you were expecting her. Her Consort and escorts confirmed the invitation.”
There was a pleading look in Dryden’s eyes, but it was a struggle just to breathe, and whatever he was trying to tell her was beyond her ability to comprehend.
“Cassie?”
The violence that vibrated in Gray’s voice woke her up, snapped her out of her own bog of disbelief. If he, who was still learning to fit into the skin of an adult Warlord Prince, was that close to attacking her
“visitors,” Ranon must be a heartbeat away from slaughter.
And because a part of her wanted to step aside and give Ranon a target for his barely leashed temper, she said briskly, “Since they’ve been here this long, I won’t keep my visitors waiting. Lady Shira, with me, please. Gentlemen, if you two will stand escort then the other men can settle in.”
Having Gray and Ranon with her would be bad enough without the rest of them crowding into the room.
Thank the Darkness Theran was still in the Coach. She didn’t need him witnessing this meeting.
As Dryden stepped aside to let them enter, she felt the full weight of male temper at her back and realized that even a direct order now wouldn’t stop any of her First Circle from coming in with her.
She walked into the large parlor and her heart clenched so hard she feared it would stop beating.
The woman who sprang up from one of the stuffed chairs looked as pretty and dainty as ever. The man standing beside her was as handsome as she remembered, but shouldn’t Jhorma look more satisfied? After all, he was pleasuring the woman he’d lusted after. The other three men who had served in her previous court looked embarrassed.
As well they should.
“Lady Kermilla,” Cassidy said with frigid courtesy.
“Oh, la, Cassidy,” Kermilla said. “Is that any way to greet a friend?”
“We aren’t friends.”
Kermilla blinked and looked taken aback.
“Lady Cassidy, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Jhorma said.
“Since you were never pleased to see me, a lie dipped in honey is still a lie,” Cassidy snapped.
Hell’s fire. Who was this bitch who had taken control of her tongue?
*Cassie? Cassie! Gray wants to know why we don’t like this Queen.* Vae paused. *Ranon wants to know too.*
“Oh,” Kermilla cooed. “Is that a Sceltie? Oh, I so envy you having one of the kindred.”
Vae snarled, and the Craft-enhanced sound rumbled through the room.
The men tensed. Kermilla’s smile wobbled.
The thought of locking Kermilla in a room with Vae for a few hours provided just enough humor to smooth out a few of the rough edges of Cassidy’s temper. But not enough of those edges for her to hold on to civility.
“Come with me, Kermilla. I’ll grant you a few minutes of my time, and you can say what you came to say.
Privately.” Cassidy turned and looked at Ranon to make sure he got the message.
He didn’t like it. Hated her being in a room alone with a stranger who might be an enemy. But he gave her a curt nod to indicate he would stand aside. Then he focused on the four men who had come with Kermilla, and Cassidy understood the danger. If anything went wrong, those four men were forfeit. The Warlord Princes in Dena Nehele had survived the twisted Queens who had ruled here, and they had survived two years of war against the landens. They wouldn’t hesitate to tear her former court apart.
They might attack anyway if they realized those men were from her former court. Warlord Princes were possessive and territorial, and no one had been prepared for this visit.
“Kermilla, with me,” Cassidy snapped as she turned and walked to the door.
“May I remind you that I outrank you?” Kermilla snapped back.
“May I remind you that you don’t address our Queen in that tone of voice if you want to keep your tongue?” Ranon snarled. “And if rank is the pissing contest you want to have, then you may outrank her but I outrank you.”
*Ranon,* Cassidy said, putting as much steel in her voice as she could.
Those dark eyes blazed with fury. He wasn’t backing down.
*I don’t like her, so please let me hear her out and be done with this,* she told him.
*You don’t need to waste another minute on her.*
He’ll kill her, Cassidy thought, shocked by the truth. It was one thing to think about standing aside and letting him rip into these people; it was quite another to let him do it for no better reason than feeling bitchy and upset.
*No,* Cassidy said. *Prince Ranon, I’m asking you to step back from the killing edge. Let me deal with this, Queen to Queen.*
He struggled to pull back, struggled to obey. Finally, *Your will is my life.*
Words of surrender, of service.
Having gotten that much of a concession from him, she knew he would hold the other men back. But she didn’t dare look at Gray because what she was picking up from his psychic scent wasn’t good. She could only hope that he wouldn’t do anything imprudent in the few minutes she needed to deal with Kermilla.
As she walked out of the room, she brushed past Theran, who looked pale and dazed. Until she dealt with whatever trouble Kermilla had brought to Dena Nehele, she didn’t have the energy to wonder how much Theran had heard, or if it was her temper or Ranon’s that had shocked him. Either way, he said nothing; just watched as she led Kermilla to the smaller parlor that had become the “Ladies’ Room.”
Theran stared at the beautiful young woman struggling to maintain her dignity as she followed Cassidy into the Ladies’ Room. Dark curls framed a triangular face with dainty features and expressive blue eyes.
He felt a burn in his gut and a pull on his heart, and felt the breathless certainty that he had found the Queen he was meant to serve. Now he understood why Archerr, Shaddo, and some of the other Warlord Princes were so enamored with Cassidy. They’d been desperate to serve a Queen, any Queen, and had deluded themselves into believing they felt that burn for Cassidy because they’d had no opportunity to choose between her and another. But now he’d seen the Queen who should have come back with him, who could truly claim the loyalty of the men who formed the First Circle. She was the one he had hoped to find when he went to Kaeleer to beg Daemon Sadi for help. She was the Queen who should be ruling Dena Nehele.
She was the answer to his hopes and dreams.
A friend of Cassidy’s come for a visit? A long visit, he hoped. A lifetime visit, if he could convince the Lady to stay.
“What are you doing here, Kermilla?” Cassidy demanded as soon as the other Queen shut the parlor door.
“I came to see you,” Kermilla replied, her eyes wide and innocent—and on the verge of being filled with an expression of wounded dignity that was as false as everything else about the woman.
Cassidy wondered if Jhorma had figured out by now that there wasn’t much substance once you got past the things that were directly related to Kermilla’s pleasure and personal gratification.
Maybe that wasn’t fair. After all, a flighty young Queen could mature into a solid ruler. But Cassidy wasn’t much interested in being fair anymore where Kermilla was concerned.
“Why?” Cassidy asked.
Kermilla did her sexy pout, but the usual “aren’t I being naughty?” twinkle wasn’t in her blue eyes. “You didn’t answer my letters, so what choice did I have but to interrupt my own duties and come here?”
“I didn’t answer because I have nothing to say to you.”
Kermilla stamped her foot. “Queen’s gift, Cassidy. I need the money you owe me for taking over the court.”
She hadn’t known she could be this furious, hadn’t known this much anger lived inside her. “I owe you nothing.”
“You do! Queen’s gift—”
“Is a gift, not an obligation. And you didn’t take over a court from a retiring Queen, Kermilla. You took my court. There’s a vast difference, and if you can’t see that I suggest you have someone explain it to you.”
Someone with big, hard boots that could leave an impression where it might do the girl the most good.
“The village treasury has the same amount of marks as when I came to Bhak. A little more, in fact.”
“But that’s the village treasury. Every copper spent from there has to be reported to the Province Queen.
Those marks aren’t Queen’s income. I have expenses, Cassidy.”
“So did I, and I had no more than you when I started. Merchants are willing to run an account for a Queen’s personal expenses and court expenses. Those accounts are billed quarterly and deducted from that merchant’s tithe.”
“But they’re sending bills!” Kermilla shouted.
Which meant the girl had already spent past the summer tithe owed by those merchants. Once the tithe was met, a Queen and her court were expected to pay for goods like everyone else in the village.
“Then I suggest you curtail your spending until the harvest tithe,” Cassidy said.
“I’m not like you,” Kermilla snapped. “I know what it takes to look like a Queen and dress like a Queen and act like a Queen. Those things take money.”
“Then talk to your Steward. He’ll tell you how much income you can expect after you settle your obligations to the Province Queen and village treasury, and pay your court.”
“That’s your answer?”
“That my answer. You rule Bhak and Woolskin. Your income comes from their tithes.” And may the Darkness have mercy on those people. “I have work to do, and despite what you told Dryden, you are not a welcome guest. You’ve had your say. Now go. I don’t want you in my Territory.”
Kermilla looked stunned.
Cassidy strode to the door and reached for the handle.
“Cassidy . . . wait.”
She couldn’t wait. Her stomach burned and her bowels were turning to liquid. “Get out of my Territory,”
she said harshly. “And take your cocks with you.”
Cassidy brushed past Theran, who was lingering in the hallway, and snapped at Ranon when he intercepted her on the way to her suite and tried to ask if she was all right.
She wasn’t all right. Wouldn’t be all right until Kermilla was back in Dharo and she could lock away all the painful memories. Again.
Kermilla dabbed her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief.
Cassidy had been so angry. She had never seen Cassidy like that! And so unwilling to listen.
It had been a mistake bringing Jhorma with her. She had thought bringing her Master of the Guard might appear too much like a threat, and her Steward had to stay in Bhak to take care of all the boring details.
That left Jhorma to represent the Queen’s Triangle—the males who were dominant in a court because they dealt with the Queen directly.
When she’d decided to come to Dena Nehele, she’d thought that reminding Cassidy that she was the Queen Jhorma had chosen to serve and pleasure would intimidate Cassidy a little. At least enough that Cassidy wouldn’t keep ignoring the Queen’s gift which should have been left as the seed money for Kermilla’s personal expenses.
But Cassidy had seen Jhorma and gotten so angry. And that dark-eyed Warlord Prince was so scary! He looked like he wanted to rip out her throat with his teeth!
It wasn’t fun being a ruling Queen. It should have been, but it wasn’t. Being in Cassidy’s court for her training had been great fun. She had danced and flirted and talked and attended the luncheons with the—well, they weren’t aristos, but they were the most influential people you could find in a place like Bhak.
Sure, she had to follow Cassidy around to “learn” how to be a Queen, as if she didn’t know how to be a Queen, and she had made careful notes about what duties she would keep and what duties—the boring duties—she would require the Ladies in her First Circle to shoulder.
Then she found out she’d have to pay anyone who was officially in her First Circle, so she’d limited that Circle to the necessary twelve males. Which meant she had to take care of the boring duties, and since they were boring, she hadn’t bothered with them half the time. And lately it seemed like her Steward was handing her a list of complaints every day. And her Master of the Guard . . . Well, he’d seemed so charming when he’d first begun to serve her, and he’d been a darling when she’d been training with Cassidy. Now she dreaded talking to him because he looked grim grim grim when he reminded her that she was the village’s moral center and she could not allow rowdy young Blood males to use the landens for sport. There was already trouble because of a little mischief, but he’d wanted to publicly strap those boys because a landen had gotten hurt—and he hadn’t looked at her with any kind of warmth after she forbade him to punish the boys. And that merchant! Whining over a broken window and wanting the Warlord’s family to pay for the damages. Well, she couldn’t order that, could she? The Warlord’s sister was one of her closest friends. And then the merchant wanted to deduct the cost of the damages from the tithes and her Steward let him. Without asking her. Saying it was the only thing to do if she wasn’t going to hold the Warlord responsible.
She didn’t have a big enough court. That was the problem. There should be people taking care of these things so that she could be a Queen.
She’d spent some of the village treasury, which she shouldn’t have done and wouldn’t have needed to do if Cassidy hadn’t been selfish. So now she had to have the Queen’s gift in case the Province Queen’s Steward asked her Steward for a financial report. She had to replace what she’d taken, or she would end up having to justify her expenses to Lady Darlena.