Marian burst out laughing.
“Why now?” Lucivar said. “Who’s the prick who wants her under him?”
Oh, no. That wasn’t part of this discussion. “Now is because Jillian is also ready to make the Offering to the Darkness, and if she reaches the full potential of her mature strength, she’ll wear Sapphire—and it will be more difficult to find someone who can see her safely through her Virgin Night.”
*This is hard for him,* Marian said on a distaff thread. *Especially after seeing Daemon’s report on how many girls the coven of malice destroyed.*
*I know,* Surreal replied. Then she turned to Lucivar. “This is what I’m proposing. There is an establishment in Amdarh that can accommodate this rite of passage. It has the advantage of being a place Jillian isn’t likely to visit again, so she won’t have to associate a place she usually visits with her experience of that night. I will go with her, and help her if she runs into any trouble. I can do that without scaring the man into impotence.”
Lucivar snorted. “Only if he doesn’t know you.”
True. “You and Daemon can wait for us at the town house. Then we can all have a celebratory dinner and acknowledge that Jillian is now a woman who can take a lover.”
“We can acknowledge that when the sun shines in Hell.”
Marian huffed out an exasperated breath. “Lucivar! She’s grown up. She’s reached her majority, and she’s ready to have sex. This is no longer your decision.”
He stared at his wife.
“And Jillian would like Marian and Nurian—and me—to accompany her when she goes to make the Offering to the Darkness.”
Lucivar said nothing. He simply pushed away from the table and walked out of the kitchen.
“He feels excluded,” Marian said quietly.
“He’s too strong. So is Sadi.” Surreal breathed out. “The Darkness only knows what their presence might do during the Offering. Not that they would interfere, but the Offering tests everything you are, and you can’t afford to be thinking of anyone else—or feeling the presence of anyone else. I might decline to join her for that reason. I was alone when I made the Offering. I’ll ask around, find out if someone else’s power is really a concern. I’ll stay with Lucivar while you and Nurian are with Jillian. Help keep him steady—or at least keep him from trying to break walls with his fists.”
Marian sighed. “That would be good.” She hesitated. “My father never cared about me enough to be concerned about any of these things.”
“And I didn’t want mine anywhere near me. We’ll just have to help him as best we can.”
Lucivar stayed focused on driving his fists into one of the punching bags that had been hung in the communal eyrie. They’d been acquired recently as a way for the Eyrien warriors to keep their skills honed without damaging another person. He knew the moment when Rothvar, his second-in-command, entered the eyrie, but he kept his fists—and his temper—focused on the bag.
“You want to spar?” Rothvar asked.
“No. Stay away from me.”
Rothvar kept his distance but didn’t leave. He just waited, saying nothing for a minute. “I felt the Gray arrive in Ebon Rih. Lady Surreal?”
“Yeah.”
“Is there a problem?”
Lucivar beat on the punching bag for a minute before he could answer the question. “Jillian says she’s ready for her Virgin Night.”
“Hell’s fire.” Rothvar blew out a breath. “She’s at the age . . .”
“To let a man do with her what you or I do with a woman?”
Rothvar paced and swore for a minute. “That’s different.”
“I don’t think either of us is going to be able to explain that to our girl.” He wasn’t sure he could explain the difference to anyone who had breasts—including his wife and his Queen.
Rothvar continued to pace while Lucivar slammed his fists into the punching bag.
Finally Rothvar stopped pacing and Lucivar stopped punching.
“She have her eye on someone?” Rothvar asked.
Lucivar nodded. “I’m sure Surreal knows who it is, but she won’t say. Not to me.” He could ask Daemon to find out, but there was always a chance that the Sadist would dislike Jillian’s choice enough to . . . remove . . . him from the living.
“Gotta find someone trained who will see the girl through this,” Rothvar said.
“Surreal is going to take care of that. And she’s going to stand as Jillian’s escort.” Lucivar snarled. “Apparently no one’s cock will stand up long enough to do the job if the Demon Prince is nearby keeping watch.”
Rothvar coughed. “I’d take you over Surreal any day.”
“Yeah, well, an assassin does things quietly, so it’s easy not to see how dangerous she is.”
“Probably for the best.” Rothvar rubbed the back of his neck. “I think Nurian will be relieved to have it done. It’s a risk. It always is. But it’s one night instead of Jillian being vulnerable every day.”
He knew that. He did. “After that, she’ll make the Offering to the Darkness. She says she’s ready.”
“I guess we’re going to have to strap some steel to our spines and not get in her way.”
Lucivar rubbed his sore knuckles and sighed. “I guess we’ll have to do that.”
TWELVE
Surreal checked into a room at The Tavern. Marian had invited her to stay with the family, but the guest rooms in the Yaslana eyrie held too many difficult memories that she didn’t want to deal with. The rooms at The Tavern held memories, too, but the Rihlanders were a short-lived race, and each generation “freshened” the look of the rooms. Same room but not the same.
Ebon Rih also held a lot of memories for her, both good and bad, but there was room to move there, room to breathe.
After arranging with Marian and Nurian to have dinner at a dining house that specialized in seafood, she’d gone down to Riada—and The Tavern. On her own for a few hours, she wandered the village streets. She’d been thinking about purchasing a house for herself somewhere, a residence that wasn’t part of the SaDiablo holdings. She’d toyed with the idea of settling into a village, but she hadn’t found any village or any house that called to her.
The truth was, she liked living in Amdarh, liked living in the town house. Dhemlan’s capital city had neighborhoods, and she could take a healthy walk to some of her favorite shops if she didn’t want to use the family’s conveyances or hire a horse-drawn cab. She liked the feel of the city and the variety of talks and entertainments available. She liked all the theaters.
But the town house wasn’t hers, and if she purchased one in the city, that news would be all over Amdarh before the ink was dry on the deed, and whatever protection her wedding ring provided for Daemon would be lost. That would be dangerous for everyone, especially now that Sadi’s Queen was once more in residence at the Keep.
She’d figure things out. In the meantime, she was here to request information about someone who was never mentioned.
She didn’t know what had happened between them or exactly when it happened. She remembered just that Wilhelmina Benedict had made a choice—and Jaenelle Angelline had accepted it.
Surreal stopped in front of a store window and pressed a hand to her chest, trying to ease the ache there. Years ago, Witch had helped her release the burden of all the girls she hadn’t been able to save—including herself. Maybe, if she helped Saetien on this part of the girl’s journey, it would help this new wound to heal.
Nurian and Marian arrived together and knocked on the door.
“When Lucivar heard about our dinner plans, he arranged for us to ride in a fancy aristo carriage drawn by two horses and including a driver who is exclusively ours for the evening,” Marian said, laughing.