So Khary and Morghann heard the details, and the evening ended with laughter…and the warm sense that he was back among friends.
Ten
Daemon drove the Coach back to Dhemlan. He didn't have much choice, since Ladvarian, who had driven the Coach to Sceval, had announced that he and Kaelas would meet them at the Hall. He usually didn't mind driving, but he'd anticipated talking Jaenelle into tucking into bed for the journey. And they would have gotten some sleep.
Still, it was pleasant to have her with him in the driver's compartment. Except for the time they spent in bed, it was rare for them to be together without the presence of kindred, court, or family.
But looking at her, he noticed the dark smudges beneath her eyes… and the way she shivered despite being wrapped up in her winter cape.
"Why don't you stretch out on the bed and get some sleep?" he suggested.
"No, I'm fine."
She might be completely healed, but she hadn't regained her physical stamina. He could see the toll the past two days had taken on her.
Scooping her out of the other chair, he returned to his chair and settled her on his lap.
"You're driving," Jaenelle said. "You have to pay attention."
"I'll pay attention," he promised, wrapping his arms around her. She was right. The psychic pathways through the Darkness made it possible for the Blood to travel faster than they could otherwise, but inattention while riding the Winds could be fatal, and guiding even a small Coach demanded extra care. "Just rest. We'll be back at the Hall a little after midday."
Jaenelle rested her head against his shoulder. "I thought we were going to Amdarh."
He hesitated a little too long.
She raised her head and looked at him, too much knowledge in her eyes.
"I'll take care of things in Amdarh," he said.
"No."
She'd been born a Queen. Even though she no longer ruled a court, she was still a Queen…and she was still his Queen. He couldn't prevent the instinctive desire to yield when Jaenelle gave him a direct command, but living in Kaeleer for the past year had shown him that males could, and did, dig their heels in and oppose the Queen they served when a command might put her at risk.
"I won't come to harm," he began.
"You've already been harmed," she snarled.
His temper strained at the leash. "So far, whoever is playing this game has used nothing but words. Once the announcement of our intended marriage is made…"
"The game may turn physical. I'm aware of that."
"I can take care of myself."
"But you don't think I can. Not having my full strength physically doesn't make me weak."
But you're not as strong as you used to be … and we don't really know how strong you are. "I'm aware of that."
When she squirmed, he tightened his hold, thinking she was trying to move away from him. But she only freed her left hand from the folds of the cape and held it up.
"What does this ring mean, Daemon?"
"My promise to honor, cherish, and protect."
"Besides that."
He studied her face, trying to discern what she wanted him to say.
"Partnership," Jaenelle said quietly. "You went to Hayll and played out a vicious game to distract Dorothea and Hekatah because that's what I needed you to do. And it cost you. Don't think I'm not aware of how much it cost you, Prince."
"That was different." Remembering the emotional cruelty he'd inflicted on his family in order to keep them from physical harm made his chest tighten, made it hard to breathe.
"Yes, it was different," Jaenelle said. "This isn't about serving in a court. This isn't about saving a Realm from being shattered by war. This is personal. Someone is going after you. And whether you like it or not, you are not going to play out this game alone."
Jaenelle would protect anyone she loved, no matter the price. If he refused to let her help, she would go off on her own to find whoever was playing games with his life. At least if they stayed together, he could protect her while she was trying to protect him.
"All right, partner," he said. "What did you have in mind?"
She frowned. "I'm not sure yet. But we'll think of some way to find the source of the rumors being spread about you." Then she looked at him through her lashes. "So, who's going to tell Mrs. Beale she's got a month to plan a wedding feast?"
Hell's fire. Mrs. Beale was a marvelous cook. She also had what he considered an unnatural relationship with her meat cleaver. Since he'd inherited SaDiablo Hall, he had gained a finer appreciation of why his father had stayed away from anything to do with the kitchen unless cornered. The woman was downright scary at times.
The fact that she and Beale, the Hall's butler, were happily married was something he tried not to think about because it made him wonder things about Beale he'd rather not wonder.
"If we both went to Amdarh, we could just write her a note," Jaenelle said.
He looked at Jaenelle. She looked at him.
"Good idea," he said.
That settled, she snuggled against him and slept for the rest of the journey.
*High Lord?*
Ladvarian's suppressed excitement made Saetan's nerves twang, but he continued warming a glass of yarbarah as if he had no concerns. "Lord Ladvarian. What brings you to the Keep?"
*There's something you should know. But it's a secret.*
Comfortably settled in a window seat, Saetan watched as twilight faded the colors in the small garden beyond the room Draca had given him to use as a study.
The daughter of his soul and the son of his blood had married yesterday. He'd told Ladvarian he was delighted, and he was. But in the privacy of his own heart, he could acknowledge a nip of hurt that he hadn't been asked to witness that bond. A father's wish to share the important moments in his children's lives.
And yet, he understood the reason behind this secret wedding. It didn't matter that Jaenelle was no longer the Queen of Ebon Askavi. Her decision to take a husband would create ripples throughout Kaeleer. Even if the guest list was contained to the Blood who had made up the First and Second Circles of the Dark Court, it would take weeks to plan the celebration that would follow the simple ceremony. For two people who wanted, or needed, to make a formal commitment to each other now, waiting in order to plan a party would have been intolerable.
Especially for Daemon. Because Daemon Sadi's loyalty began and ended with Jaenelle Angelline. The fact that someone was trying to give Jaenelle a reason to break all ties with him indicated the Blood in Dhemlan still didn't realize the kind of man they were dealing with. And that frightened him. The only thing restraining the power and temper of a Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince was a woman whose own power was, as yet, undetermined. If the rumors spreading through Amdarh and, by now, through the other courts in Dhemlan, provoked Daemon into striking out indiscriminately, there was no one, including himself, strong enough to stop him.
The bloodbath could be horrific.
So it was prudent of Jaenelle to marry Daemon in a way that required little fuss to give him the assurance that he wouldn't lose her.
Saetan scrubbed his hands over his face and sighed. With things balanced so precariously right now and so dependent on Daemon's state of mind, he just wished he had the answer to the question the coven, the boyos, and even Lucivar had been asking over the past few months.
If the kindred had truly succeeded in holding onto Jaenelle so that she would heal and come back to all of them, why had she come back different?