Daemonar walking into the dining room and informing Kathlene, as the Territory Queen, that the Warlord Princes had been pulled from the courts that day for a different assignment. Titian looked at the leather guards protecting her brother’s wrists and forearms, looked at the sheathed fighting knife that took the place of the knife he usually wore on his belt, and figured all the Warlord Princes needed to be approached with care today.
Finally, there was one of the boys, looking baffled, returning to report that he couldn’t get to the stables to request a carriage to take Lady Azara to Halaway because a shield prevented him from leaving the Hall.
Kathlene barely swallowed a bite of scrambled eggs and toast before leaving the breakfast table and returning to her room to complete the first part of the extra assignment. If it was that distressing, it had to be worse than yesterday’s face slap.
Titian didn’t bother making an excuse. She just hurried after Kathlene, then gave the Queen’s door a quick knock before entering.
Kathlene twisted in her desk chair, her face stamped with anger and pain.
Much worse than yesterday’s face slap.
Titian approached the girl who was her Queen for that day. “If you’ve copied out the extra assignment, I can burn the original for you.”
A beat of silence as Kathlene studied her. “You can?”
“I can.” Which wasn’t the same as saying she would.
Kathlene hesitated, then held out the square of heavy paper, turned over so Titian couldn’t see what was written on it.
Most of the rooms in the Hall were heated with warming spells, but some had fireplaces. All the rooms that had been assigned to the Queens had fireplaces. No fresh wood ready to light, which was better since no one would be in Kathlene’s room for most of the day.
Keeping her back to Kathlene, Titian vanished the paper, then called in a square of paper equal in weight to the ones being used for the extra assignments. Using a tongue of witchfire, she ignited a corner of that paper, then leaned in and dropped it on the grate. She watched until it burned to ash.
When she turned around, she saw the way Kathlene studied her.
“Zoey wasn’t at breakfast,” Kathlene said.
“Tummy troubles,” Titian replied.
Kathlene stiffened. “Not . . . ?” She mouthed the word “poison.”
“No, no. I think yesterday upset her more than she realized until things . . .” She waved a hand in the vicinity of her abdomen.
“Ah. Well, she’s not the only one who has felt that way.” Kathlene sounded bitter.
“Maybe if you wait until after the midday meal to issue orders for the extra assignments, you won’t have to issue those orders at all.”
Dancing on the knife’s edge. Not saying anything outright. Not putting Kathlene in the position of knowing anything that might be considered breaking the rules.
Kathlene rose. “I’m going to tidy up and then see what can be done today. And you will run that errand for me?”
“I will.”
As Titian hurried through the corridors, dodging questions from the other students, she wondered which one had been betraying the rest of them—and why.
Daemon blocked the doorway before Weston had a chance to charge out of the Queen’s square of rooms and say anything.
“Inside.” Daemon took a step forward, forcing Weston to take a step back.
“Zoey—”
“Is fine. So is Grizande. Lucivar is looking after them.” Daemon took another step, forcing Weston back farther. It was a big space, but it was essentially a supply room for towels and sheets and the other things the staff needed to take care of the bedrooms in this square. On this floor it was also the only room from which one could access the interior courtyard without going through someone’s bedroom.
Before Weston could ask another question, Nadene walked in with Brenda, followed by Holt and Beale.
“Lord Beale,” Daemon said. “Close the door. Shield the room.”
When that was done, Daemon looked at them. “Zoey and Grizande have gone to Ebon Askavi to see Witch. They left in the early hours this morning and have arrived safely.”
“Zoey left without informing her sword and shield?” Weston’s voice was rough with the effort of keeping his anger leashed.
Daemon smiled. “Worse than not informing you, Zoey didn’t inform Allis.”
Holt snorted a laugh and tried to cover it with a cough.
“Exactly,” Daemon said dryly.
“I was told that Zoey is dealing with tummy and intestinal troubles,” Brenda said. “Arlene is staying with her to make soothing tonics and make sure Zoey’s discomfort doesn’t get worse.”
“You’re supporting this trip to the Keep, even if that support is after the fact?” Nadene asked.
“I am,” Daemon replied.
“Then I should stop by a few times today to check up on my apprentice Healer and make sure she’s doing all that should be done for the young Queen.”
“Broths and other easy foods should be brought in for Lady Zoey, along with something more substantial for Lady Arlene,” Beale said. “The Dharo Boy can be trusted with that assignment.”
Daemon turned to Holt and Beale. “Has correspondence that was delivered last evening been distributed yet?”
“I was going to sort it this morning,” Holt said.
“I have collected the letters that were being sent out, but of course, those letters cannot leave the Hall until you lower the shields,” Beale said.
Daemon nodded. “I want to see everything coming in for the children and everything they’re sending out.”
“Be canny about this and do the same for the instructors,” Brenda said. “It might not be a child making this mischief.”
“Point taken.”
She called in two letters and handed them to Holt. “I didn’t get them into the basket of outgoing letters, but you can add them to whatever else you collect. And if you’re looking to give someone a hard jolt, add a slip of paper to a few incoming letters saying that the letter was read and the envelope resealed.”
Assuming he let the letter go on to the recipient.
“I should put a shield around this square of rooms,” Weston said. “No one should be able to reach Zoey—or find out she isn’t here—by entering through one of the bedrooms.”
“No, I’ll put a shield around this square of rooms,” Daemon said. “However, I’ll leave this room open, and you can set the shield here. That way, you can approve or deny anyone who wants to enter, including the other girls who occupy these rooms.”
“What should we tell anyone who asks why the Hall is locked with Black shields?” Brenda asked.
Daemon smiled—and watched Brenda shiver. “Tell them the High Lord of Hell is hunting.”
“Do you think he’ll be there?” Jhett asked.
Titian nodded. “Uncle Daemon is usually in his study at this time of day.”
“But there’s nothing usual about today, is there?”
True, but she hoped he’d be easy to find. She wanted to hand over that paper and be done with that part of the task.
She’d picked up Jhett on her way to Uncle Daemon’s study, in case she needed help explaining what Jhett and Zoey thought a skilled Black Widow could extract from the paper.
She wasn’t sure what to think about crossing paths with Raeth, Caede, and Liath, who were obviously patrolling the areas of the Hall where most of the students should be. She knew what to think when she and Jhett crossed paths with Daemonar, Trent, and Jarrod. The Warlord Princes with Liath were patrolling; Daemonar and his men were hunting.
As soon as the study door opened in response to her knock, Titian rushed inside, with Jhett a step behind her.
The man sitting behind the blackwood desk wasn’t Uncle Daemon. This was the man who had returned to the Hall during that awful house party. Cold. Dangerous. Deadly. She met his glazed gold eyes for a moment before calling in the square of paper and holding it out to him.