It made sense. All of it. And that was the most annoying part of all.
He continued making a list of expenses. “You’ll have to pay the tithe each season like everyone else in the village.”
“Tithe?” Jillian’s voice faded a bit.
Obviously she hadn’t equated owning property with needing to pay the tithe owed to the District Queen. Just as obvious, the man of business had neglected to mention the tithe and what she would be expected to pay each season.
He was definitely reading over that contract before he allowed her to sign it.
“You’ll also need to figure on food for you and the Scelties, clothing, personal items,” he continued.
She hesitated. “I do have some savings.”
“Which you will not touch,” he said crisply. “At least, not for these expenses.”
He had a good idea of what the tithe would be and took a reasonable guess at what the rest would cost a young woman. He wrote in the numbers, tallied it per season, added a bit for unexpected expenses and household goods she would need to purchase, then handed it to her—and watched the color drain from her face as she realized the difference between her wages and her expenses as a property owner.
Then she noticed the final figure and looked at him.
“I will not release any of the principal. What you will receive each quarter is no different from what you would have started to receive a few years from now. The amount I’ve listed will help you pay the village tithe and your living expenses. You will do me and Lucivar the favor of not skimping on essentials. We are the wealthiest family in the Realm, and there are some things that will be done to help you get settled in a new home.”
“Thank you.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “If I need advice about finances?”
“All you have to do is ask.” Daemon smiled. “Well, I should get to these reports before Holt comes in and scolds me.”
“There’s something else.” Not quite warrior, not quite young woman taking another leap into unknown territory.
He sat back.
“I heard about the . . . accommodation . . . you’re making to educate a select group of Queens and other youngsters.”
“Beale assures me I can hide in his butler’s pantry if I feel the need to whimper. And I’ve been given extra-stout locks for my study door.”
“Have you told Jaenelle Saetien that she has to leave the Hall as part of the price your family has to pay for her actions?”
He closed his eyes against the pain. “Not yet. Later today. The other children will be arriving in a couple of days, and she needs to be gone by then.”
“Where?” Jillian asked softly.
“I don’t know. She can’t stay at the town house. She’s been banned from entering Amdarh for two years. She’s also been banned from Askavi for two years. I guess she’ll stay at one of the family estates.”
“Send her to the sanctuary,” Jillian said. “Surreal will have to give her approval, of course, since she set up the place, but even though Jaenelle Saetien still wears a Jewel, I’m betting she has to learn Craft all over again, just like the other girls.”
“Some of those girls are there because they were harmed by the coven of malice.”
Jillian nodded. “But the Scelties who are going to be there will look after her, if for no other reason than to protect the puppy who is her special friend.”
Was Jillian really the person making this suggestion, or was she the messenger for a spiky-haired Black Widow Queen?
“And I think Zoey and Titian and the friends who were at the house party should be assigned rooms in the square of suites that belonged to the Dark Court. Certain suites will be out-of-bounds, of course, but . . .”
He stared at her. “You want young women to have rooms across from the rooms I reside in when I need to relinquish control and am too dangerous to be around anyone?”
She nodded again. “They are safe because you are dangerous, in the same way Jaenelle’s coven was safe because Saetan was dangerous.”
Jillian was a messenger. But so was Karla, who must have coached the girl in what to say.
My Lady, your will is my life.
“The suites that will be out-of-bounds,” he said. “Those would be the Queen’s and Consort’s suites?” He couldn’t tolerate anyone residing in the room that had belonged to Jaenelle Angelline. “And the suites that were set aside for Lady Karla and Prince Chaosti because they may start visiting again?”
“Yes.” She looked relieved. Message delivered and understood.
Daemon eyed Jillian’s spiky black hair and nodded. “You may say it. Once.”
Jillian gave him a brilliant smile. “Kiss kiss.”
Surreal studied Daemon, who stood behind his desk, his hands tucked in his trouser pockets. The question of what to do with Jaenelle Saetien had been tearing at him from the moment he’d accepted that he’d have to send his daughter away—alone. His duty to the people of Dhemlan would keep him at the Hall much of the time because the point of all these young Queens taking up residence here was to have him here as well.
The girl couldn’t live with Manny in the village—assuming Manny would agree to it—because the Province Queens didn’t want Jaenelle Saetien to have contact with the girls who had been threatened at the house party. At least, not for a couple of years.
Being from long-lived races, the Queens—and Lucivar, too—could have banned the girl from entering specific places for two decades or two centuries. The two-year bans were a concession made for Daemon’s sake, not for Jaenelle Saetien’s. But this?
Not his idea, Surreal thought, but a possibility that gave him hope.
As she’d helped coordinate the arrangements for the girls who would be arriving, she’d seen the speculation in the eyes of the Province Queens and District Queens. The Queen of Ebon Askavi had returned—and everyone knew that whatever remained of Witch wouldn’t have made her presence known, wouldn’t have called in the debts owed by the coven of malice and personally extracted the payments for anyone but Daemon Sadi. And if the Queen had returned to that extent . . .
Surreal set those thoughts aside for the moment. “Does Witch know that some of the girls at the sanctuary are there because of the coven of malice and the males who ran with those bitches?”
Daemon flinched, since Jaenelle Saetien had been considered one of those bitches. “She knows,” he said quietly. “I think that’s why she suggested it.”
“We both know a suggestion from Witch is tantamount to an order from any other Queen.” She blew out a breath. “The other girls may not accept her, Sadi. If they don’t, could she stay at the family estate near the village?”
“Only if Lucivar gives his consent, which is doubtful.”
Jaenelle, are you sure Jaenelle Saetien will be safe at the sanctuary? She may have rejected me as her mother, but I still care about her.
She didn’t have to wonder. She could go to the Keep and ask. Or she could trust the Queen who had been her friend—and still was. “All right. We need to have this done before the other girls arrive. Are you going to come with us as far as the estate? It would be better if you didn’t come to the sanctuary.” If Jaenelle Saetien was going to have any chance of being seen as just another girl who needed to repair her life, she didn’t need anyone realizing that she was the High Lord’s daughter. At least, not at first.
“I’d like that.” He started to move around the desk. “Surreal . . .”