No one was foolish enough to speak.
“This is what is going to happen,” Sadi said. “Effective immediately, my nephew will reside at the family town house and be what you call a day student. You implied that all the students reside at the school. I have since learned that is not the case. So Daemonar will reside with the family and attend classes during the day. You will adjust his schedule to accommodate that.” He looked at Fharra and his smile became colder—and crueler. “Should my daughter or niece experience this kind of teasing, you and I and all the instructors will have a little chat, and I expect the survivors to be more vigilant about curbing pranks in the future.”
Daemonar felt his knees grow weak. He’d seen a glimpse of this side of his uncle now and then since that day at the Keep when he’d encountered the Sadist, but this was the first time he’d seen the kind of punishment that side of Daemon’s temper could, and would, inflict on someone.
“The school will absorb the cost of replacing all the damaged books,” Sadi continued. “I will take care of replacing the clothes.”
Lady Fharra nodded, too frightened to do anything else.
“Prince Yaslana, with me.” Sadi walked out of the office and kept going.
Daemonar matched his stride as they headed for the men’s dormitory.
After a minute, he felt the difference in the man as Uncle Daemon huffed out a laugh and said, “I know about Eyrien pride, but at least put a warming spell around yourself so you don’t freeze your balls.”
He hadn’t wanted to do anything that might cause the Sadist to slip the leash. Now he gladly wrapped a warming spell around himself.
“Do you have anything to wear besides that loin wrap?”
Such a commonplace question. “Nothing clean, but I have the clothes I was wearing when I was sparring with Titian and Zoey this morning. And I do have a couple changes of clothes in my room at the town house.”
The SaDiablo town house was actually two residences with a common wall and connecting doors in the servants’ areas to make it easy for the staff to take care of both halves of the building. His grandfather had used one side for guests while the family resided in the other side. Now the Yaslana line of the family used one side and the SaDiablo branch used the other—and guests were tucked into rooms on either side.
“You might be on your own there at times,” Daemon said.
“I’ll be fine.” And “on his own” still meant under Helton’s watchful eyes.
“If that Warlord, Krellis, had done that to Titian’s things . . .”
“I would have killed him.”
Daemon said nothing until they reached Daemonar’s room in the dormitory. “Then I accept the line you drew in terms of punishment.” He looked around. “Come on, boyo. Let’s gather the rest of your things and get you settled in the town house. Then we’ll come back and deal with the rest.”
Daemonar pulled on the clothes he’d worn for sparring and quickly gathered the belongings that hadn’t been damaged. He felt a shaky relief that Uncle Daemon had stepped away from the place where the Sadist dwelled, but he wondered if there was a way to gently suggest that his uncle needed to spend a day at the Keep.
Daemon felt Surreal’s presence as the horse-drawn cab stopped in front of the town house. He downed the brandy in the snifter, then poured himself another drink.
He’d been spending too much time in Amdarh, being available if the children needed help. He didn’t have the private suite of rooms here where he could siphon off the sexual heat that constantly threatened to overwhelm his staff. He didn’t have a place where he could relax the leashes for a day or two in order to fully be what he was.
The constriction had begun to chafe, but he hadn’t wanted to be that far away. And today had proved that he needed to be here. Daemonar had handled things in typical Eyrien fashion—and that had to be a shock to the pricks who had thought he’d submit to their brand of “teasing.” The boy had handled his contemporaries, but he’d needed someone at his back to deal with the adults at the school.
Surreal walked into the sitting room, where Daemon waited, and stopped a step away from the door Helton closed behind her.
“Sadi?” She sounded wary.
“There was an incident at the school.”
“Jaenelle Saetien?”
“The girls are fine, but Daemonar will be residing at the town house from now on and going to the school for his classes.”
“What happened?”
He told her about the trunk and the soiled clothes and books. He told her Daemonar’s response to having his things ruined. He told her about the line he’d drawn with Lady Fharra. Then he said, “Lucivar is on his way here. When he arrives I’ll go to the Keep. I might not be back for a day or two.”
Surreal took one step toward him, then stopped again, clearly unwilling to get any closer. “Why is Lucivar coming here?”
“I scared the boy. He needs to talk to his father.” Daemon watched the muscles in her throat as she swallowed.
“Did you hurt him?” she asked.
It stung that she would ask the question, but she needed to ask, both as the wife who was his sword and shield and as his second-in-command. “No. Not him.”
“Mother Night.” She gathered herself, then walked up to him, took the snifter, and drank the rest of the brandy. “You don’t need to wait. I’ll keep an eye on things until Lucivar arrives.”
“I appreciate that, but I do need to wait for him.” Because he needed to tell his brother everything that happened today—including the things he hadn’t told Surreal.
He saw the change in her eyes, in her breathing. He was aware of the change in her body’s scent—aroused and wet and ready to be claimed. But that was her physical response to his sexual heat, not true desire for the man. Right now she felt more fear than lust. He knew how much courage it took for her to approach him when the Sadist was so close to the surface.
Surreal shuddered. “I’m sorry, Sadi.”
“No need to be.” Right now even a kiss on the cheek from him would feel more like a threat than a comfort, so he stepped back. “I’ll be in my study until Lucivar arrives.”
He went to his study and put Black shields around the room and a Red lock on the door. Some protection for Surreal and the staff. Not enough protection, but some. He could, and would, do that much for them.
Surreal used one of the passageways in the back part of the town house to enter the other half. Her legs shook as she climbed the stairs to the bedrooms. With no one else on this side except a footman, the Green wasn’t hard to find.
She tapped on the open bedroom door. Daemonar looked up from the books he was arranging and smiled.
“Your father is on his way,” she said.
He sprang to his feet. “Hell’s fire, I didn’t think I was in that much trouble.”
She laughed out of sheer relief. Whatever Daemon had done that had scared Daemonar hadn’t gone bone deep. “I’m guessing you have something to discuss with Lucivar about the change in living arrangements.”
Wariness, which she hadn’t expected.
“Uncle Daemon said we’re going to keep the room in the dormitory as a place where I can go between classes. He’s going to put protection spells in the walls that will weave into a Green shield that I will control. I’ll have to do my own housekeeping since the school’s staff won’t be able to come in when I’m not there, but I can borrow a carpet broom and some . . .”
She whooped, and that made him scowl.
“Five silver marks,” she said.
His scowl deepened. “What?”