“What could she do?”
Butler studied her as if the question puzzled him. “When Jaenelle was fifteen, the Dark Council insisted that Saetan wasn’t a suitable guardian for a living girl and that they, the Council, would appoint someone else. Saetan descended to the full strength of his Black Jewel and prepared to destroy the Council. Before he could strike, Jaenelle said they could appoint another guardian when the sun next rose. Saetan was devastated by that pronouncement, since he loved her and he’d waited thousands of years for the Queen he was supposed to serve. The coven and the boyos, however, viewed her statement differently. Correctly, as it happened.”
“What did happen?” Saetien asked when Butler didn’t say anything else.
“The sun didn’t rise. Not the next day or the one after that.”
Saetien’s jaw dropped. How awful, how terrifying, to wait for a sunrise that never came. Waiting in a forever-dark world. Did the Blood outside of this Dark Council know why the night didn’t end? “But the sun did rise. It had to.”
Butler nodded. “Eventually, it did. The Council sent one of its members, a man who got along well with the High Lord, and requested—begged, if you want the truth of it—that Saetan remain Jaenelle’s guardian and that he ask his daughter to restore the sun. Which he did when the Seneschal finally granted him admittance to the Keep.
“Love was the only leash that could hold Jaenelle Angelline, but it was a leash that had a knife edge honed for war and had to be handled carefully.”
Butler hadn’t created a ball of witchlight, so he was little more than a dark shape backlit by the lights shining from the cottage windows. Somehow, that felt right for the telling—and hearing—of this part of the story.
“Dorothea’s man, Osvald, used the compulsion spells and got Wilhelmina away from her rooms,” Butler continued. “But he didn’t take into account that kindred would react the same way as a human protector, and Wilhelmina had become friends with a young tiger Warlord Prince named Dejaal, who was the son of Jaal, a Green-Jeweled Warlord Prince who served in Jaenelle’s First Circle. Wilhelmina was frightened and struggled, despite the spells Osvald had used, and Dejaal responded the same way any other Warlord Prince would respond—he attacked the man who was hurting his friend. A call to battle spread through the Hall, and kindred and humans converged on the area. An Eyrien Warlord Prince who was Lucivar’s second-in-command at the time wounded Osvald, but Dejaal had been killed before the others joined the fight.”
Saetien shook her head. “The residential areas of the Hall are made up of blocks of rooms that surround open-air courtyards. Unless you can fly, there’s no quick way to leave.”
“No, there’s not,” Butler agreed. “And in a place where one male sounding the alarm has all males responding as if they’re standing on a battleground—or a killing field—a man has no chance of removing a woman who doesn’t want to go with him. But Osvald tried, and a young Warlord Prince died because of it.”
“What happened to Osvald?”
Silence. Another of those moments when Butler looked away. “The son of a Brother in the Court was killed by an enemy on home ground. When something like that happens, the males in the First Circle have the right to decide on the form of execution. They gave Osvald to Jaal and Kaelas, who was a Red-Jeweled Arcerian Warlord Prince. I don’t know what those two cats did to that man, but having seen what two cats the size of Jaal and Kaelas can do to a human, it would have been a terrible way to die.”
“But Wilhelmina was saved.”
“Yes.”
When he didn’t say anything else, Saetien realized he was waiting for her next question. What was she supposed to ask?
Think. Think. When it’s a court, it’s never just the person who commits the act who is held accountable. A debt is owed by the person who gave the order.
After a minute, Butler said, “When a Queen comes to another Queen’s territory to visit or for business reasons and brings members of her court to serve her—or protect her—it is expected that she will hold the leash on everyone who came with her, that she will make sure they behave properly and not cause trouble for the hosting Queen or her court. For allowing Osvald to try to abduct Wilhelmina, Alexandra was held accountable for the death of Dejaal.”
“But she wasn’t executed,” Saetien said quickly. “She didn’t actually kill the tiger.”
“She wasn’t executed. She was stripped of her power, broken back to basic Craft. Still a Queen but no longer able to wear any Jewels.”
Saetien stood there with her mouth open. A Queen without any power? How . . . ? “The High Lord broke her?”
“No,” Butler said quietly. “The Queen of Ebon Askavi broke the Queen whose actions led to the death of a member of the Dark Court. Witch broke Alexandra.”
“But . . . Alexandra was Jaenelle’s grandmother. Witch broke her own grandmother?”
“What would you have had her do?” Butler’s voice turned sharp. “Oohhh, I see. Alexandra should have been reprimanded for violating her responsibilities as a Queen and a guest, should have had her wrist slapped and been told she was naughty, but should not have suffered any real consequences? After all, it wasn’t a human that was killed, was it? A Warlord Prince, yes, but just a tiger. Just an animal. Nothing important enough to defend.”
“I didn’t say that,” Saetien snapped. But the thought had been there, quickly followed by anger that anyone would think that Shelby might be expendable because he was a dog. “But she did it to her grandmother.”
“Witch called in the debt owed to her by another Queen. Alexandra being a relative had nothing to do with Jaenelle’s decision. It couldn’t. That is the price of being a Queen. Every personal decision, every private choice, has consequences, since every choice affects your court. You’ve seen Witch, seen the Self that lived beneath the human skin. Living myth, dreams made flesh. But not all the dreamers were human, Saetien. Generations of kindred dreamed of a Queen who would help them, who would protect them from humans who saw them as less. Centuries of Blood with one desire. Centuries during which three strong men yearned for the Queen they wanted, needed, to serve. It took a long time for all those dreams to come together to shape the Queen Kaeleer needed. To shape the Queen that Saetan needed. And Lucivar needed. And Daemon needed.
“Not all the dreamers were human. That is why Jaenelle Angelline was beloved as a Queen and could rule the Realm of Kaeleer. Every race in the Shadow Realm had a little part of the making of this Queen, and Jaenelle saw no difference between a Warlord Prince who was a tiger and a Warlord Prince who was a human. If he was under her hand, he was hers to protect—and she did protect her own.”
“Then why was Jaenelle born in Chaillot? Why wasn’t she born someplace in Kaeleer? Why did she end up being Alexandra’s granddaughter?”
“Because Alexandra was also one of the dreamers,” Butler said quietly. “But unlike Saetan and Lucivar and Daemon, she didn’t recognize the dream—and so many terrible things happened because of that. Those terrible things also became part of the living myth, just as Saetan’s love—and Daemon’s and Lucivar’s love—also helped shape who Witch became.”