“Lord Marcus helped us,” Jaenelle Saetien added.

He smiled at the thought of his man of business teaching the Scelties how to count. “Well, Lord Marcus does know his numbers.”

No one mentioned any spats. In fact, Jaenelle Saetien and Mikal seemed to have reached a new understanding and a renewal of the friendship they’d had before she acquired her Birthright Jewel.

After Daemon assured Mikal that Marian would get well—a subject that worried the boy, since he’d lost his own mother when he was very young—boy and Scelties left, giving Sadi time alone with his daughter. He ran a fingertip over the outer edge of her delicately pointed ear and thought she looked more like her mother every day, a fact that, today, caused him pain and joy in equal measure.

“Your mother is staying at Lucivar’s eyrie a little longer to help out, but she’ll be home in a day or two.” He wondered if that was true.

“Papa?” Jaenelle Saetien climbed into his lap.

“What is it, witch-child?” He wrapped his arms around her, an unspoken promise of protection.

“Beale said that the Lady had to follow the house rules even though she was a Queen and the most special witch in the Realm.”

“That’s true. Your grandfather followed the Old Ways of the Blood, as I do, and he insisted on proper attire for dinner. Ladies wore gowns when there were guests at the Hall, or a simpler dress or a skirt and blouse if it was just family and close friends at the table. If someone came to the table dressed in a way he didn’t feel was appropriate, he would hold the meal until that Lady changed her clothes.”

“Even if it was the Lady?”

“Yes, even if it was the Lady. She wasn’t just his daughter—she was also his Queen, and he still wouldn’t budge when it came to the house rules.”

Jaenelle Saetien crinkled her face. “But she was special.”

“Very special. But Saetan knew that her being special left her feeling isolated and alone sometimes, and he didn’t want her to feel apart from the rest of the Blood. So even though she was special, he treated her as if she were ordinary and insisted that she follow the same rules as the Queens who were her friends and also lived at the Hall. He did that because he loved her.”

“Like you love me?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Exactly like I love you.”

 

* * *

 

* * *

“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s not your mother; you’ll just have to make do, boyo.” Lucivar teased the bottle’s nipple into his baby’s mouth. “She doesn’t have any milk to give you, but losing the milk now is a small sacrifice in order to have her in your life for all the years to come.”

After a minute of fussing, baby Andulvar settled down to the business of getting his meal, his eyes focused on his father’s face.

Lucivar smiled. “We’ll take care of her. All of us.”

“Papa?”

His smile warmed even more. “You need something, witchling?”

Titian shook her head as she joined him. She leaned on his shoulder and watched him feed the baby. “Mama will get well?”

“Yeah, she will.”

“I was scared.”

“Me too.”

Titian looked at him as if seeing someone a little different. “Papas don’t get scared.”

“Yes, we do. But when things get scary, the people we love need us to be brave, so we’re brave.”

“Who do you have when you need someone to be brave for you?”

“I have you, witchling,” he said softly. “I have you and your brothers. I have your mother. I have your aunt and uncle.” And I have memories of a very special Lady.

They remained in companionable silence until the baby finished the bottle, but Lucivar sensed there was something on his girl’s mind. The past couple of days had been an emotional beating for all of them, and he just didn’t have the strength to pry right now. Fortunately, Titian, his quiet, somewhat timid little witchling, didn’t require prodding. It might take her a while, but eventually she would tell him whatever was on her mind.

He was about to get up and change the baby’s diaper when she said, “I think Uncle Daemon needs someone to be brave for him.”

Lucivar settled back in the chair. “What makes you think that?”

“Even when he smiled at me, he looked sad. Like Mama did before she fell asleep. When she smiled at me and Daemonar today, she didn’t look sad anymore.”

A chill went through him. “I’ll keep an eye on your uncle Daemon.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Satisfied, she helped him change the baby’s diaper and tuck the boy in for a nap.

He took care of children and chores, encouraged Jillian to go home and rest—and have some time to herself. He waited until Daemonar was playing a quiet game with Titian, and Manny had settled in for a nap. Then he went looking for the one person he hoped could give him some kind of answer.

He felt Tersa’s presence in the eyrie, but he couldn’t find her in the common rooms or the laundry area or the bedrooms or the room that had a pool fed by a hot spring. He even checked his weapons room. Finally, he began searching the storage rooms that were deep in the eyrie—rooms that held the things that weren’t needed but Marian didn’t want to discard yet.

Feeling the chill in the corridors, he realized it had been a while since he’d replenished the power in the warming spells he’d put around these rooms, and made a mental note to do that once everything settled into some semblance of normal.

He opened the door to the last room . . . and walked straight into an illusion created by a tangled web of dreams and visions.

A crystal chalice on a stone altar. Leashes were attached to the stem, leading to four posts.

A Queen holds the leash.

His temper frayed the leash.

He’d used those phrases all his life. Here, in this vision, the leashes were physical things. He studied the leash that was leather braided with chain and instinctively knew what it controlled.

So. These weren’t the leashes that held him.

“Daemon,” he whispered.

Three of the leashes, including the leather and chain, looked normal—looked like he suspected his would look if they were made of something more than discipline, training, and self-control. But the other . . .

“The chalice is breaking again.” Tersa stepped up to the altar. “The vessel can no longer contain all it was meant to contain.”