Jaenelle stepped into the room and ran her hand over the dresser's silky maple wood. "It's wonderful. All of it's wonderful. But, why?"
Saetan swallowed hard. "You're twenty years old today."
Jaenelle raised her right hand and fluffed her hair. "I know that."
"My legal guardianship ends today."
They stared at each other for a long moment.
"What does that mean?" she asked quietly.
"Exactly that. My legal guardianship ends today." He saw her relax as she assimilated the distinction. "You're a young woman now, witch-child, and should have a place of your own. You've always loved Scelt. We thought it would be helpful to have a home base on this side of the Realm as well as the other." When she still didn't say anything, his heart started pounding. "The Hall will always be your home. We'll always be your family—as long as you want us."
"As long as I want you." Her eyes changed.
It took everything he had in him not to sink to his knees and beg Witch to forgive him.
Jaenelle turned away from him, hugging herself as if she were cold. "I said some cruel things that day."
Saetan took a deep breath. "I did use him. He was my instrument. And even knowing what I know, if I had the choice to make again, I would do it again. A Warlord Prince is expendable. A good Queen is not. And, in truth, if we had done nothing and you hadn't survived, I don't think Daemon would have either. I know I wouldn't have."
Jaenelle opened her arms.
He stepped into them and held her tight. "I don't think you've ever realized how strong, how necessary the bond is between Warlord Princes and Queens. We need you to stay whole. That's why we serve. That's why all Blood males serve."
"But it's always seemed so unfair that a Queen can lay claim to a man and control every aspect of his life if she chooses to without him having any say in the matter."
Saetan laughed. "Who says a man has no choice? Haven't you ever noticed how many men who are invited to serve in a court decline the privilege? No, perhaps you haven't. You've had too many other things occupying your time, and that sort of thing is done very quietly." He paused and shook his head, smiling. "Let me tell you an open secret, my darling little witch. You don't choose us. We choose you."
Jaenelle thought about this and growled, "Lucivar's never going to give that damn Ring back, is he?"
Saetan chuckled softly. "You could try to get it back, but I don't think you'd win." He rubbed his cheek against her hair. "I think he'll serve you for the rest of his life, regardless of whether or not he's actually with you."
"Like you and Uncle Andulvar, with Cassandra."
He closed his eyes. "No, not like me and Andulvar."
She pulled back far enough to study his face. "I see. A bond as strong as family."
"Stronger."
Jaenelle hugged him and sighed. "Maybe we should find Lucivar a wife. That way he would have someone else to pester besides me."
Saetan choked. "How unkind of you to dump Lucivar on some unsuspecting Sister."
"But it would keep him busy."
"Consider for a moment the possible consequence of that busyness."
She did. "A houseful of little Lucivars," she said faintly.
They both groaned.
"All right," Jaenelle grumbled. "I'll think of something else."
"You two get lost up here?"
They jumped. Lucivar smiled at them from the doorway.
"Papa was just explaining that I'm stuck with you forever."
"And it only took you three years to figure that out." Lucivar's arrogant smile widened. "You don't deserve the warning, but while you've been up here busily, but futilely, rearranging my life, Ladvarian's been downstairs busily rearranging yours. The exact quote was 'We can raise and train the puppies here.' "
"Who's we?" Jaenelle squeaked. "What puppies? Whose puppies?"
Lucivar stepped aside as Jaenelle flew out of the room, muttering.
Saetan found the doorway blocked by a strong, well-muscled arm.
"You wouldn't have helped her do something that silly, would you?" Lucivar asked.
Saetan leaned against the doorway and shook his head. "If the right woman comes into your life, you won't let her go. I'm the last man who would tell you to compromise. Marry someone you can love and accept as she is, Lucivar. Marry someone who will love and accept you. Don't settle for less."
Lucivar lowered his arm. "Do you think the right man will come into Cat's life?"
"He'll come. If the Darkness is kind, he'll come."
He stood at the edge of the resting place for a long time, studying the details, absorbing the message and the warning. Unlike the other resting places she'd provided for him, this one disturbed him.
It was an altar, a slab of black stone laid over two others. At its center was a crystal chalice that once had been shattered. Even from where he stood, his eyes could trace every fracture line, could see where the pieces had been carefully fitted back together. There were sharp-edged chips around the rim where small pieces had been lost, chips that could cut a man badly. Inside the chalice, lightning and black mist performed a slow, swirling dance. Fitted around the chalice's stem was a gold ring with a faceted ruby. A man's ring.
A Consort's ring.
He finally stepped closer.
If he read the message correctly, she had healed but was soul-scarred and not completely whole. By claiming the Consort's ring, he would have the privilege of savoring what the chalice held, but the sharp edges could wound any man who tried.
However, a careful man . . .
Yes, he decided as he studied the sharp-edged chips, a careful man who knew those edges existed and was willing to risk the wounds would be able to drink from that cup.
Satisfied, he returned to the trail and continued climbing.
Saetan fell out of bed in his haste to find out why Lucivar was roaring so early in the morning.
A part of his mind insisted that he couldn't go charging out of the room wearing nothing but his skin, so he grabbed the trousers he'd dropped over a chair when the birthday party finally wound down but didn't stop to put them on. He wrenched his arm when he tried to open the door that had swollen from last night's rain. Swearing, he gripped the doorknob and, using Craft, tore the door off its hinges.
By then the hallway was stuffed with bodies in various stages of dress. He tried to push past Karla and got a sharp elbow in the belly.
"What in the name of Hell is going on here?" he yelled. No one bothered to answer him because, at that moment, Lucivar stepped out of Jaenelle's bedroom and roared, "CAT!"
Apparently Lucivar didn't have any inhibitions about standing stark naked in front of a group of young men and women. Of course, a man in his prime with that kind of build had no reason to feel inhibited.
And no one in their right mind would tease a man who vibrated with such intense fury.
"Where are Ladvarian and Kaelas?" Lucivar demanded.
"More to the point," Saetan said, pulling on his trousers, "where's Jaenelle?" He looked pointedly at the Ring of Honor that circled Lucivar's organ. "You can feel her through that, can't you?"
Lucivar quivered with the effort to stay in control. "I can feel her, but I can't find her." His fist hammered down on a small table and split it in half. "Damn her, I'm going to whack her ass for this!"
"Who are you to dare say that?" Chaosti snarled, pushing to the front of the group, his Gray Jewel glowing with his gathering power.
Lucivar bared his teeth. "I'm the Warlord Prince who serves her, the warrior sworn to protect her. But I can't protect her if I don't know where she is. Her moon's blood started last night. Do I need to remind you how vulnerable a witch is during those days? Now she's upset—I can feel that much—and her only protection is two half-trained males because she didn't tell me where she was going."