“You’ve said everything that needs to be said,” Daemon replied. “It does seem that the children are not mature enough to appreciate informality within a court setting, so Protocol will be enforced.” He waited a beat. “Anything else I need to know?”
“Nothing that can’t wait,” Lucivar said.
“I’m delighted.” Daemon looked around the room. “Since most of you are here, I’d like to introduce Lady Brenda from the village of Maghre on the Isle of Scelt. She’ll be your new instructor.”
“Sir?” Raeth raised his hand enough to draw Daemon’s and Lucivar’s attention. “What will Lady Brenda be teaching?”
Daemon gave them all an amused smile. “Whatever she wants to teach.”
Brenda let out a hoot of laughter. “It’s going to be like that, is it? Well then, best I unpack and get on with it.”
“Lord Beale.” Daemon looked over his shoulder.
“Prince.”
“Please escort Lady Brenda to her suite and introduce her to Helene. Make sure she has everything she needs.”
“And the Lady’s friend?”
“He’ll be arriving later today. Also make up a guest room for Lord Kieran. I expect he’ll be with us overnight.”
“Very good, Prince.” Beale took a step back. “Lady? If you would follow me . . .”
Brenda looked at Lucivar, then at Daemon. “That’s your brother, is it? Quite a whip hand you’ve got there. But not to worry. When he’s not around, I’m a fair hand with a whip myself.”
“Good to know,” Daemon murmured.
“Eat or don’t eat,” Lucivar said, turning back to all the youngsters. “Lessons start in an hour whether your bellies are full or empty.” He looked at Zoey and Titian. “And before the lessons, the three of us are going to have a chat.”
Mother Night, Zoey thought, sinking into a chair. She watched Lucivar walk out of the dining room with Daemon.
Her emotions spun, her stomach churned, and all she could think was What have I done now?
She gasped when Raeth set a plate down in front of her and took the seat on her right.
“It’s just scrambled eggs and toast,” Raeth said. “You need to eat something, and I figured that would go down and stay down.”
Trent put a dish in front of Titian before circling the table and taking a seat opposite the girls.
Jhett sat next to Trent and gave Zoey a worried look.
“What did Daemonar want?” Titian asked Jhett.
The young Black Widow hesitated. “I’m going to the village with him and Grizande. She needs to buy some clothes and personal items—things a man wouldn’t help a female acquaintance buy.”
Zoey forced herself to swallow a bite of scrambled egg. “That’s good. We should help whenever we can.”
She knew there were bad Queens. She did. But until Grizande showed up at the Hall, she’d never met someone whose life had been burned by a bad Queen. She’d never been hated simply because she was a Queen.
What was she supposed to do about that?
And would the other girls blame her for Dinah’s being sent away?
“We have things to discuss,” Daemon said quietly as he and Lucivar crossed the great hall and headed for his study.
“Yes, old son, we do. Let’s start with your new instructor.”
“She’s . . .” How to explain Brenda?
“Oh, I got that part. Bloodlines?”
“Morghann and Khardeen if you go back far enough.”
“Hell’s fire. That explains some of it.”
Daemon made a sound that might have been a laugh. “It does, yes. While I was discussing the trip to Scelt with Saetien, Brenda and Jillian had a chat.”
Lucivar stopped walking and stared at him. “Should I be afraid?”
“ ‘Terrified’ would be closer to the truth of it, especially since they’ll both be living in Dhemlan.”
“Your problem, then.”
“Yes, but apparently you’re my whip hand.”
“Take a piss in the wind.”
Daemon smiled. He could always count on Lucivar being Lucivar.
The front door opened. Surreal walked into the great hall.
“Did you get any sleep last night?” Lucivar asked.
“Enough,” Surreal replied. “Why?”
“As Sadi’s second-in-command, you’re taking Dinah back to whatever District Queen rules the girl’s home village and informing that Queen that the girl is temperamentally unsuitable for training at the Hall, and she and the Province Queen will receive a full report of the girl’s conduct.”
“Who’s going to write this report?” Daemon asked.
“I’ll dictate to you and Holt. He’ll write it down, and you and I will sign it.”
Hell’s fire. There was a lot of temper being held on a tight leash. “What happened here?”
“Let’s talk about it in your study,” Surreal said.
Daemon studied her. Something different about her psychic scent and physical scent. Just enough to make him aware of it.
They went into his study. Lucivar put an Ebon-gray shield around the room to make sure they wouldn’t be interrupted. Then Surreal put an aural shield around the room so they wouldn’t be heard.
“I wasn’t away that long.” Daemon looked at the two of them.
“Dinah needs to go,” Lucivar said.
“I agree,” Surreal said. “She’ll keep stirring things up until someone is killed. And she seems to be aiming most of her venom at Zoey.”
“Then she goes.” Daemon focused on Surreal. “What else? I assume there’s a reason why your psychic scent and physical scent are a little different.”
Her eyes widened. “You can tell?”
“Of course I can tell.” They might live apart most of the time, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sharply aware of her—and aware of any differences—when they were in the same place.
“Hell’s fire,” she muttered.
Lucivar stared at her. “You tried the tea?”
“Yes, I drank a cup of the tea after Jaenelle confirmed that one cup wouldn’t harm me.” Surreal frowned. “I’ll have to send a note to the Keep and let her know it changes a witch’s psychic scent and physical scent. Although she probably already knows that.”
“Did you drink it before or after I got that mental kick in the ass from Witch, telling me that Grizande was not allowed to drink another cup of that tea?”
“What tea?” Daemon asked.
Surreal ignored the question. Her frown deepened as she looked at Lucivar. “You didn’t notice the difference.”
He shrugged. “It’s a little like how you feel when your moontime begins and a little like how you feel when you’ve had too much wine.” He paused and asked too casually, “Did Marian drink any of that tea?”
“No,” Surreal said quickly. “No, it’s . . . You and Marian and Nurian need to talk to Witch about the tea.”
“What tea?” Daemon asked again.
He listened while Lucivar explained about the secret tea that was made in Tigrelan and quieted a woman’s response to a Warlord Prince’s sexual heat. Then Surreal told them why Witch’s temper had turned cold.
Lucivar paced the study, swearing under his breath. “I’d leave Marian before I’d let her do that to herself.”
Surreal nodded. “That’s one of the reasons why having this show up again pissed off Witch so much.”
Daemon said nothing, but he noticed how carefully Surreal wasn’t looking at him.
You won’t need it, he thought. Since that wasn’t something he wanted to discuss, he said, “Is Grizande settling in?”
“She needs more clothes,” Lucivar replied. “Daemonar is taking her to the village this morning.”
Daemon raised an eyebrow.
“One of the girls is going with them to help with the underwear,” Lucivar said dryly.