Laughter bubbled into Jessa’s throat and she tried to push it back down.

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Darry kissed her. “You see?”

“I’ll not hit you on the head.”

“How lovely.” Darry grinned. “It shall be a pleasant change.”

Jessa moved her hand down the front of Darry’s tunic, pulled it open, and pushed her hand within. She glided her fingers on the skin of Darry’s stomach. The muscles quivered beneath her touch.

“When, Akasha?” Jessa pushed her arm deeper beneath the shirt as they kissed. She moved her hand up the small of Darry’s back and dipped low beneath the waist of her trousers. The feel of Darry’s flesh incited her lust and she pushed farther, grasping and pulling her closer. Darry pressed her to the wall, her hands strong as she held Jessa’s hips and rocked against her. Jessa moaned and dragged her mouth away. She let her face brush against the soft skin of Darry’s neck and took in her scent, feeling wonderfully lost. “When?”

“Tonight. When the moon reaches Attia’s spear. I’ll wait for you.”

“Jessa? Are you well?” Cecelia asked, smiling at the expression upon Jessa’s face. It was a mixture of many things, but mainly she recognized the heady look of desire. I was right. Are you my daughter’s lover, Jessa? Is that what I see in your eyes?

Jessa’s thoughts cleared as she pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “Yes, I’m fine, my Lady,” she said. “Are you sure you’re well enough to ride?”

“More than well enough, Jessa, and aching to see a bit of country. Let us go, shall we?”

“Yes,” Jessa said, and followed.

“You enjoyed your walk in the gardens?”

“Very much, my Lady. Its beauty is a gift. In my country such excess is not permitted.” They passed beneath the arch and into the great hall. “The ground in Lyoness can be bitter and many flowers do not like its taste.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way before.”

“I like your foxglove very much, and your Fallon-oosh? The purple flowers that flourish within the rest?”

“Periwinkle.” Cecelia nodded.

“Yes, they do not grow in Lyoness.”

“They’re Darry’s favorite. When she was a girl I would go into her room and find them everywhere. Petals and flowers strewn about the bed and chairs. I would ask her what she was doing, and she would always say that she was making a garden.”

Jessa laughed. “She is fond of the gardens, yes.”

“Has she shown you the maze yet?” Cecelia asked as they passed through the patio doors and onto the lower balustrade.

“Yes. And I’ve never seen before, what I saw within.”

“Owen’s great-great-grandfather Boris was a sorcerer of sorts, or so they say. I’ve seen enough within that bloody maze to believe without a doubt.” Cecelia’s tone was rueful. “It contains dangers as well as beauty. I almost lost one of my children there once, to one of his…well, I’m not sure what to call it, but I was not well pleased.”

Jessa’s heart beat fast in remembrance of Darry’s Cha-diah mother, feeling again the weight and size of the panther and Hinsa’s purr vibrating into her bones.

As they neared the stables Bentley came forth leading two steeds that were saddled and ready to be ridden. One was a magnificent white mare that was the Queen’s own favorite named Dancer, and the other was Vhaelin Star.

“Bentley Greeves.” Cecelia greeted him with a knowing smile. “Is this not a bit early for the likes of you?”

He bowed his head as she neared. “Times have changed as of late, my Lady,” he said, without a hint of his usual charming smile.

Cecelia remembered his words and his expression of betrayal and outrage as he had confronted her. She took the reins with a pang of regret. “Thank you, Bentley.” She rubbed Dancer’s soft pink nose and the mare huffed at her and pushed forward.

The filly pulled suddenly at the reins and Bentley was forced to let go. Vhaelin Star stepped to the side with a wild toss of her head.

Jessa stepped forward without pause and held out her hand. “Barrosha!” she said, and the filly stretched out her neck, her nose blowing as she took in the scent. The animal stepped forward and lowered her head. Jessa smiled at the greeting.

“She cannot ride her, Bentley,” Cecelia said. “She is but green broke and needs to be ridden more. She’s too wild yet for—”

“She may ride whom she pleases,” Darry said, walking from the stables. “She’ll always be wild, my Lady, but she gentles to a hand she trusts. She would run into the ground for that hand unless she be mistreated.”

Jessa’s heart doubled its beat as Darry approached. She could see the struggle at once. Darry’s eyes were hard upon her mother with a look that Jessa had never seen from her before, a violent anguish that Darry seemed to be trying very hard to hide.

Cecelia rubbed at Dancer’s nose, Darry’s words striking true. “Then we shall have a spirited ride.”

Bentley moved about the beautiful mare and held his hand out. “Let me help, Mum?”

Jessa gathered the reins and moved to the saddle as Darry neared.

“You don’t have to go with her.” Darry spoke for her ears only.

“I would not have said yes, Darry, if I did not wish to go. A hand, if you please?”

“Of course, Princess, my apologies.”

Jessa accepted the lift and dropped into the saddle, then reached back down to adjust a stirrup that needed no adjusting.

“Anything else, Princess?” Darry said.

“I’m sure I will think of something.”

Cecelia looked down from her saddle. “We will see you at lunch, Darrius?”

Darry spared her but a cold glance. “I practice with the spear. Some other time.”

“I will expect you for dinner then, Darry,” she responded, a flare of frustration tainting her words. She regretted it instantly. No, Cat, don’t.

Darry turned on her and Bentley stepped smoothly in between. “I will see that she’s not detained, my Lady.”

Cecelia held Darry’s furious gaze and some part of her reacted instinctively as the mother she was.

Darry pushed Bentley aside. “Is there something you wish to say, my Queen?”

Cecelia was suddenly trapped and she knew it. “Please don’t take that tone with me, Darrius.”

“Or what?” Darry said. “You’ll take my sword away next?”

Vhaelin Star screamed at the scent that filled her nose, and Jessa maneuvered her to the side with an expert hand. Dancer shied as well and Cecelia pulled the reins as they backed away.

“Will you tell your husband I’ve been a disobedient child?” Darry said, Hinsa’s blood rushing within a heartbeat. It was heady and dark, and it felt clean and right. It was as if she could wrap her arms around the world and crush it if she wanted. “Perhaps he can think of a more fitting punishment this time for his deviant offspring, yes? Lock me in the dungeons until I go blind and swear to change my ways? A marriage to some weakling Lord? Perhaps all I need is the prick of a man’s cock, yes? Perhaps he can fuck me into being who you want!”

Bentley pulled Darry away from the mare. “Ride,” he ordered Cecelia in a hard voice.

Cecelia jerked the reins and Dancer obeyed, spinning to the left and then bolting at the touch of a heel. Bentley turned but Darry was walking along the barn, yanking her jacket off as she went. He looked up. Jessa was tense in the saddle as she watched Darry round the corner of the stables and disappear.

“You must go with the Queen, my Lady.”

Jessa studied his face, his hand on the stirrup. “Where is Darry going?”

“The yards. She’ll try to stop it, but most likely it’s too far gone. I’ve never seen her so easily pushed before, my Lady. She’ll have to fight it out.”

They stared hard at one another and Jessa saw his absolute devotion to Darry. He, in turn, clearly saw all of her passion. Neither could hide even the smallest part of their affection nor deny their love in the presence of the other. Without a word their bargain was struck.

“If I find but one fresh mark on her body, Bentley Greeves, you will answer to me,” she said with confident menace. “Do you understand?”

Bentley smiled at the threat. “I shall do my best, Princess. I swear upon my love for her. Or should I swear upon yours?”

Jessa saw the true depth of his famous charm. “Either will do,” she answered, and turned Vhaelin Star. The filly jumped forward in compliance.

Cecelia walked among the grove of poplars as a pleasant breeze washed over her. Jessa strolled behind her at a short distance, seemingly content at the silence between them and occupied elsewhere. She would kneel in the tall grass and study the wildflowers that bloomed. Or she would walk off to the side, intent upon some goal that Cecelia could not fathom. When after a time Cecelia sought her out, she found her sitting with her back to one of the poplars, gazing up into its foliage.

Cecelia sat in the grass close by and Jessa said, “This is a very peaceful place. It seems to know you.”

“It should. I’ve been coming here for many years.”

“What is it called?”

“The Queen’s Grove.”

Jessa glanced up into the leaves. “Yes, of course.”

“When I’m feeling lost, it always seems to find me.”

Jessa said nothing, thinking that perhaps Cecelia wanted to talk and wondering if she had been summoned for that very purpose.

“I used to come here every day, after my daughter died.”

Jessa hid her surprise at the unexpected revelation and pulled slowly at a long blade of grass.

“Her name was Jacey Rose.” Cecelia paused. “She was four years old when she was taken by the marsh fever. She had dark eyes like yours and hair as black as pitch. Very much like yours as well, actually.”

“I had a sister once, or so I’m told,” Jessa replied, thinking that she could share in kind if only a little. This was Darry’s mother, after all, whether they saw eye to eye at the moment or not. “But she was killed when I was very young. Radha says I was but one or two when she was born.”

“She became ill?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jessa considered the blade of grass she held. “Sometimes I wonder what she might’ve been like. If we might have been friends.”

“I’m most certain you would have. You would have made a fine older sister.”

“Like Emmalyn.”

“For certain. But you have other siblings as well. Twelve brothers, Jessa. It is a large family.”

“They are many, this is true. My father had four, no, five wives before my mother. They are but half blood to me.”

“But not a one to be your friend?”

Jessa did not answer.

“And Joaquin?”

“Joaquin is closest to me in age.” Jessa tossed the blade of grass aside and chose another. “He is my keeper.”

Cecelia frowned at the word. There’s no love between you, that I can see.

“When my father saw I had a sort of value, for men found me to be beautiful, he appointed Joaquin to be my guardian until he could find a suitable use for me. This has never pleased Joaquin. He sees no opportunity to advance in our father’s eyes with such a weight about his neck.”

Jessa’s graceful fingers folded the delicate stem of grass. She was indeed stunning, and the thought that Bharjah considered her as nothing more than chattel pricked hard at Cecelia’s temper.

“How old was Darry, when your Jacey died?”

“I became pregnant within the same year, actually, and it was too soon, perhaps. I’m afraid that a burden was placed upon my Cat that no one should have to endure.” Cecelia found it sinfully easy to talk to Jessa. And you should know these things, if you will love my daughter. “Owen took his grief strangely. When Darry was born it was very difficult for him to leave her. He was extremely protective, which I understood, but he found it difficult to show his affection as well. Even though he loved her desperately from the start.”

“He was afraid?”

“Perhaps. He was nearly broken when we lost Jacey Rose. He had doted on her so. Jacey looked so much like him and he would take her everywhere, even to his council meetings. She would sit quietly in his lap while he discussed land contracts and Gamar knows what else. When she eventually started talking, discussing nonsense most times, he would listen very intently. He would let a room full of Blooded men wait until she and he finished their conversation of dresses and dolls and pretty flowers.”

Jessa smiled at the picture she described.

“She was such a gentle child, always very ladylike. She didn’t like her hands to be dirty and would hold them up if they were, until someone would help her. She liked Emmalyn to do it, actually. She worshipped Emma.”

Jessa could hear the stark sadness and her throat tightened. It was perplexing yet lovely to see a mother’s love so on display.

“Darry was very different from the first. She was a complete mystery to Owen. Her will has always been so bloody strong, and she chafed at being held back in any way. He would try to protect her, and she would look at him as if she were seeing something that no one else could. She would say then, ‘I will love you, Pappa, even if you say no.’ And he would relent and say, ‘Fine, then, do as you wish.’ She was always so fearless.”

“It is her nature,” Jessa replied. “She cannot be otherwise.”

“I know. And I would have her no other way.”

“Her fire, I think, is much like yours.”

Cecelia took the compliment with a smile. “Perhaps. The Lewellyn blood can be somewhat wild at times.”

“Like your Nina,” Jessa said. She is much like my love, I think.

Cecelia chuckled. “Yes, like Nina.”

“And when Darry began to fight?”

“Yes.” Cecelia sighed. “When she first took up the blade Owen was furious. And he was quite angry with me as well for I’d given her my permission. He allowed her to do it, though, for he thought it a passing fancy. Her brother Wyatt and Darry are thick in their blood, and he became her champion. When Jacob found his passion in learning and Wyatt in the ways of the sword, they stopped being boys together. Darry had followed them about like a ghost for many years, and though they adored her completely, she was but a girl to them.”

“And when did they see her differently?”

“When she bested Wyatt during practice. It was a heated battle of wooden swords, and Owen and I watched from the fence. Cat moved so beautifully, and after a time she began to fight within the steps of Honshi. Do you know this?”

“The Dance, yes,” Jessa replied. “My brothers have all trained in its ways, though only Kaliq and Sylban follow the discipline. It is very difficult to master, Radha says. You must let go of yourself and take on the will of your weapon.”

“Yes, well, it was then that things changed.”

“She had proved her skill.” Jessa remembered Darry’s deadly beauty in the practice yard.

“Owen realized it was not just a passing thing,” Cecelia replied. “We argued terribly and I lost. He could not be swayed or convinced to allow her such a dangerous thing. Later that day he called them both into the throne room and forbade her the sword. It was a horrible fight between him and our son, and he charged Wyatt with seeing that his wishes were obeyed.

“They were both yelling so fiercely, but Darry merely stood there and watched her father. When Owen demanded in his rage if she understood that she was to fight no more, she simply said no. Twelve years old and she stood before the King in all his fury and calmly defied him. ‘I’m sorry that I’m not Jacey Rose,’ she said, ‘but I will never be her. You must let me go my own way now.’”

“What did he say?”

“Her words threw him because of their hard truth. He lost his temper and reacted badly. He asked her to repeat herself and Darry said quite clearly, ‘Jacey Rose is dead.’” Cecelia closed her eyes. “He advanced on her and I yelled, stopping him, but Darry held up her hands and said, ‘Do you see, Pappa? My hands are dirty and I’m happy that they are. I’m not her and you can’t make me so.’” Cecelia opened her eyes, an expression of regret on her features. “He struck her and she fell to the stones.”

Jessa looked down at her hands, hoping to hide her emotions.

“He had never hit one of his children before. I was rooted to the floor with shock, though when I spoke his name he turned…and he was so pale, so horrified by what he’d done. He went to help her up, but Darry hurried away before he could. Her nose and mouth were bleeding badly. He had struck a true blow, as a man sometimes strikes another man.

“She didn’t cry, though. She just let the blood run down her face. Wyatt was there and put his arm around her, and I will never forget how he looked at Owen, never…

“I ran to her and she let me lead her away. She was shaking and I wanted desperately to hold her, but she wouldn’t let me. Wyatt was there and she took his hand. I cleaned her up and Wyatt took her to her rooms.

“After about an hour I went to her, whether she wanted me there or not. She was sitting near the hearth amidst complete destruction. She had destroyed everything that could be destroyed and her hands were bleeding from the shards of one of the broken lamps. Then she began to cry and reached out to me. I held her until she stilled and I saw that she had passed out. Her face was terribly bruised and her lips cut and swollen.

“I rushed her to my own chambers and the healer came. Owen sat beyond the door as she was washed and given a draught to calm her emotions. Her wounds were tended and she seemed to sleep.

“I went to Owen and we stood in the corridor as he struggled against his regret. ‘We should not have had another child,’ he said. ‘If this is how I am, if I can cause such pain it was a mistake to have her. Another child was a mistake.’ He walked away before I could respond. When I turned back to our chamber, Darry was standing near the door.”

Jessa closed her eyes. Akasha.

“I tried to explain to her what he meant, that he was frightened and didn’t mean it as it sounded. But Darry just stared at me.” Cecelia looked puzzled, even after all this time. “And to this day, I still cannot decipher her expression.”

Jessa’s thoughts filled quietly with Darry’s voice. I was twelve, and I wanted to go with Hinsa and live with her.

“The damage caused that afternoon still lingers between them. Owen has never forgiven himself, and Darry cannot forget the words he spoke. It had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his fear and shame at what he’d done, not knowing how he might undo it.”

They sat in silence as the leaves spoke above them, a dance of movement within the breeze.

Jessa formed the words within her head, debating her tone for an instant and preparing her tongue for the innocence she wanted to convey. Joaquin would pursue them, she had no doubt, but she wanted desperately to have some idea of Cecelia and Owen’s reaction when she and Darry broke from Arravan and Lyoness. Darry was set in her mind and was protecting her honor, but perhaps she was not thinking clearly enough about the consequences of their actions. This would fall to Jessa, and she was more than willing to shoulder that responsibility. She never lost at Kings and Jackals either, which resembled the long game she and Darry were soon to engage in. She asked her question. “Why did he break her from Aidan?”

For many reasons, none of which were good enough, and he knows it. “In the end?” Cecelia was impressed that Jessa would ask the question. Well played, my girl. “I believe it was for the same reason he tried to deny her the sword.”

Jessa was shocked. “He thought her being backwards was a passing thing?”

“I’m not certain, Jessa, but this is what I believe. It’s not something we talk of, though that will change now.”

“But it’s love, my Lady, and love is…” Jessa stopped before she spoke her mind on the subject. “Perhaps he has yet to learn his lesson then.”

“Perhaps. And what do think he should learn, Jessa?”

“That is not my place to say, my Lady.”

“Owen is not a hard man, Jessa. If I’ve given you that impression, it was unintended.”

“Not a hard man? Yet his actions thus far concerning his daughter might say otherwise.”

“He’s but a man, Jessa, and men make mistakes. That he is the King does not change that fact.”

“And yet Darry is the only child that he has struck, according to your own words. And it was Darry’s lover that he threatened and their affair that he destroyed, denying her love that is the birthright of all men. It is Darry’s heart that he has wounded, perhaps beyond repair now that she knows the truth. I wonder what else he might do to her that you would consider but a simple mistake.”

Cecelia wanted desperately to smile, for either she would tell Jessa the truth as she saw it or defend Owen and reveal the truth just the same. In either case, Jessa could then predict what to expect from them. So you will leave with her then, yes, Jessa? But if I tell you that Owen will most likely do anything within his power to make amends, how easy will it be for you to take my daughter and disappear into the night? Darry will never forgive him for Aidan and I’ve always known it. “You have no intention of marrying my son, do you?”

“Your son has no intention of marrying me, my Lady. None whatsoever.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Because he refuses to look me in the eyes. And when he does I see evasion, and indifference as well. He is more enamored of my brother than of the thought that I might share his bed.”

Cecelia recognized the truth within Jessa’s words. Malcolm, what are you playing at then? “Yes, I suppose that would trouble a prospective bride. Though you don’t seem very troubled.”

Jessa said nothing.

“And if he did look you in the eyes?” Cecelia challenged her openly, and either Jessa would lie or she would reveal everything. “If Malcolm wanted you in his bed? What would you do then?”

Jessa didn’t answer, for it was a trap and she knew it. But she had learned patience at Radha’s knee and was certain that Cecelia wanted something from her, though what it was she would need time to decipher.

“You would be a queen, Jessa, as your mother was.”

Jessa’s expression became fierce at the comment, the color dark within her face.

A tremor of unease moved through Cecelia but she forged ahead. “And a queen wou—”

“I was tempered within the cold fires of the Jade Palace, my Lady,” Jessa said. “When Bharjah learned that my mother had not given him a son, he took her from me and kept her prisoner until she was with child again. I was suckled upon Radha’s breast and so never knew my mother’s touch. When she bore him a second daughter, he crushed my sister’s skull on the stones and slit my mother’s throat when she tried to stop him.”

Cecelia stared in open shock.

“The prospect of being a queen holds very little appeal to me,” Jessa replied, with steel in her voice. “And at the moment, it does not appear to have done you much good either.” Jessa shifted smoothly and rose to her feet. “I would like to walk among the trees now, my Lady. When you wish to leave, if you would let me know?”

“Of course,” Cecelia answered, still stunned by the intimate revelation and the cutting observation as to her own plight.

Jessa bowed her head in respect before walking away.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jessa stepped into the corridor behind the upper shelves of the Queen’s Library and closed the secret panel behind her, shutting herself within the gloom. She lowered the cowl of her cloak, whispering a spell as she did so.

The air before her reacted to the quiet words and began to move, churning slowly. The utter black of the corridor seemed to melt away as a swirling point of air began to glow, rotating smoothly at first and then picking up speed and forming a small orb of substance. The atmosphere thickened around her as the radiance of the witchlight became more dense. A white core of energy pulsed slowly from its center as Jessa dipped her fingers in it. The sphere reacted as water might and bent inward. Small veins of blue light bled away from her touch, adding depth to its light and illuminating the corridor.

Jessa spied the door, then caught her breath in surprise. The sphere pulsed and exploded outward, doubling in size in a heartbeat and then tripling within the next. The blue veins split and burst free, splintering like lightning toward the secret chamber in the distance. The air cracked like the breaking of branches as they traveled, and Jessa stumbled against the wall. The majik slammed against her as the witchlight crawled on the surface of the door. She struggled to regain her balance and slid forward, speaking the counterspell in a rush of words.

The ball of light bent strangely in response and collapsed inward with a noise not unlike the blowing of the bagpipes. The sound was low and discordant as Jessa winced and turned her face away, and her hair blew back as she lifted a hand to protect herself.

“Shivahsa!”

The witchlight moved upon the door as if it were a wild animal. Its blue claws scraped the wood and found the weakest point, flooding within an old crevice and pouring downward as she stared. The light broke apart near the floor and spilt to the stones in a shower of sparks and hissing streamers, filling the air with the pungent tang of a summer storm. The iron handle of the door was glowing, white light snaking about the metal with a high-pitched sound that sang along the wrought iron.

Jessa stepped forward and spoke the counterspell again, the strength of her voice filling the corridor and echoing along the stones as the witchlight gathered in a molten pool at the threshold and then disappeared, bleeding in a rush beneath the door.

“Darry.”

She ran, closing the distance, then seized the door’s handle. The metal froze against her skin as she threw the door open, and the light dripped free from her fingers as she stepped within the chamber.

Darry was crouched against the far curve of the wall beside the bed, her right arm extended before her as the witchlight swarmed about her hand. The blue light threw her features into extreme contrast against the golden glow of the lamp.

Jessa stumbled against the door as the Vhaelin within her blood surged up at the heavy scent in the room. It was torrid and filled with a potent, seductive musk of power that caused her heartbeat to stutter and then lurch within her chest.

Darry stood up slowly as the witchlight slithered up her arm. She shook her arm and the light splattered against the floor at her feet. An abrupt sound, the warning bark of a panther, echoed high into the upper expanse of the chamber.

Darry flung her arm violently and the light left her with a splash, thrown free. It clung to the wrought iron of the spiral staircase where it hissed and fell away in defeat, dropping to the stones and dissolving into nothing.

Darry turned and met her eyes.

She wore but brown trousers and a white tunic that was only half tucked in, her hair tied behind her neck in freshly washed curls. Her feet were bare and she had never looked more wild, her eyes alive with an abundance of color as they moved down Jessa’s body and claimed what was hers.

Jessa could smell it, the Cha-diah blood. It assaulted her senses in a way she had no chance of stopping, a buzz of dizziness pushing up from the base of her neck and making her sway. She leaned more heavily against the door, grasping for the handle.

“Shut it,” Darry ordered.

Jessa stood completely still, uncertain if she should move, uncertain if she even could. The majik in the chamber was unbearably thick, Darry’s scent a living thing as it reached out to her. The musk moved against her skin, and when she took a breath, it poured down her throat like the brazen touch of Pentab Fire.

Jessa tipped her head back and parted her lips as she exhaled in a push of breath. A quiver of arousal slid along her sex and everything tightened, aching with need.

“Shut the door, Jess.”

Jessa’s spirit flowed at the command and she was instantly wet. Her grip twisted on the handle of the door and she took a tentative step, then another, pulling the door around and then pushing against it until it swung shut. The click of the latch was like a mountain falling within her head.

And then she waited, resting her forehead against the wood and closing her eyes, faint beneath her own heartbeat. She heard nothing, but when Darry’s scent intensified she knew she was close, and her blood knew it as well.

The breath was hot beside her ear. Just that. Just a breath.

Jessa’s majik rose up in self-defense. It faltered at first but then pumped with confidence through her veins. Essa tua Vhaelin, she prayed, and felt a profound swell of fear at the absolute force of it, at the raging in her ears. The Cha-diah scent wove itself within her own blood, lush and wild. Jessa let out a low moan of appreciation. Is this how you feel, Akasha? Bloody hell…

Another breath. Just that. Just a breath.

Jessa wanted to be touched, and she pushed back, her hips finding what she needed.

Darry slid an arm about Jessa’s waist and stepped against her, thrusting her pelvis against Jessa’s backside and pinning her against the door. She pushed the dark hair aside and rubbed her face against Jessa’s neck. And then she tasted her with her tongue, and Jessa’s entire body jerked and her hips pushed back yet again.

Strong hands were at her throat and the brooch that held Jessa’s cloak came free, both the garment and the pin tossed aside. Just the slightest brush of Darry’s fingers against her throat and Jessa thought she might spend.

Darry took her by the shoulders and turned her about, their eyes meeting as her hand found Jessa’s stomach.

“You won’t hurt me.” Jessa took a quick breath, seeing something other than desire in Darry’s gaze. Her breasts were aching and her legs heavy with need. Jessa was unable to feel anything but her want. She was more than willing to risk whatever she had to for satisfaction. Though looking into Darry’s eyes, she wondered if surrender might have consequences that her majik would not submit to. “You may do as you like.”

Jessa let out a cry as Darry yanked her tunic open. Her body jerked forward. Darry’s open mouth was on hers and Jessa was trapped against the door beneath Darry’s strength, beneath a kiss meant to consume her.

She pulled blindly at the tie in Darry’s hair and freed the curls and shoved her hands within them. She moaned at the stroking heat in her mouth and the fierceness of the full lips against her own. Darry reached between their bodies and ripped the stitching on Jessa’s skirt. Her right hand slid beneath the waist and undergarment, then her fingers moved through the soft hair between Jessa’s legs.

Jessa pushed against the caress, tightening her hands in Darry’s hair and yanking her head back. She had never been so seduced by the aura of another power, not ever. No majik had ever enticed her so completely that she had no control over her own reaction to it.

“I thought you were a panther,” she taunted her, then hissed at the fingers that squeezed her flesh, slick within her spirit. “Where are your claws, Akasha?” she asked, then smiled, her Vhaelin blood exploding with life. We shall see, my beautiful panther, yes? What we’re both made of.

Jessa had never experienced its like before, though she had always felt it waiting within the distance of her soul. It was the majik she had never been able to summon no matter how hard she had been pushed, no matter how fervently she had prayed for its release. It screamed now through her body in answer to Darry’s need, rising to meet the Cha-diah majik that assailed the very heart of her being.

Darry was silent as she pushed against the restrictions of Jessa’s clothes, her fingers insistent as Jessa’s passion fell beneath the raw darkness. She was slow as she entered her body, but Jessa moved hard against the touch, thrusting back as Darry’s fingers pushed deep and began to stroke.

“More,” Jessa implored, and pulled Darry close. Her vision had turned deep and piercing, and Darry’s eyes were fairly glowing. Bloody hell, Akasha, what have you done? “I thought…the panther was fast, yes?” she said, and kissed Darry fiercely, biting Darry’s lips and her tongue as her world caught fire.

Darry jerked at the sting and shoved against her, driving into her more quickly and taking what she needed, discarding all tenderness. The flesh about her hand was so swollen and wet that Darry’s own release rippled hard between her legs.

Jessa’s mouth opened against Darry’s as she cried out. The door rattled in its frame as she was taken. She clawed at Darry’s neck and shoulders, shouting as her head fell back against the door. Her climax rose around the strokes of Darry’s fingers and burst like a storm beneath the fast press of Darry’s palm. Darry bit Jessa’s neck and sucked the skin.

“Akasha!”

Darry beat the heel of her palm against Jessa’s flesh and Jessa came with a broken cry. Darry held her up as she spent. Jessa’s hips strained as everything opened wide inside of her, freeing more than her spirit.

“Yes!” Jessa cried out, and laughed, breathless. “Did you,” she swallowed and pushed the hair back from Darry’s face, “did you feel that?”

Darry let out a growl of need and yanked free of the touch, lifting Jessa up and forcing her legs open. Jessa’s thighs tightened and she leaned away from the door, grabbing Darry’s face and coercing her mouth wide as Darry carried her across the room beneath the scorching kiss.

Jessa bounced on the mattress and Darry slid on top of her. Jessa pulled at Darry’s tunic and the fabric ripped as the garment came open and Darry’s breasts moved against her own. They moaned in satisfaction as their bare flesh met. Darry moved against Jessa’s thigh and Jessa pulled at her, clawing at Darry’s trousers and then grabbing her hips.

Jessa’s blood sang with her majik and she closed her eyes, letting it come, letting it flow into every part of her body. “Yes.” A burst of light flared within her head and seared through her skull. Jessa was transfixed. “Akasha, yes!”

Darry’s thrusts were furious and Jessa urged her on, meeting her with equal strength as Darry’s strangled sob broke free and she spent her spirit, lifting onto her arms and then slamming into her release. Jessa watched in awe as Darry arched back with muscles straining, her violent shout of liberation filled with a passion that clawed at the darkest depths of Jessa’s power and pulled it free.

Jessa caught her as she fell. Darry moaned as her hips jerked and she moved through the waning of her climax and fell to the side. Jessa closed her eyes and tried to breathe, unsure if she could control what raged inside her. Unsure if she even wanted to.

“Did I…did I hurt you?”

“No.” Jessa pushed her hair back with a trembling hand, witchlight bleeding from her fingertips and moving within her hair, weaving through her braids. “No.” The tightness of desire was still rising, wrenching at her as she smiled. “Akasha?”

Darry’s hand slid along Jessa’s belly and Jessa arched upward as the hand closed upon her breast. “I want more.” Darry spoke in a ragged breath. “I need more, Jess.”

“Nessaabwello, so do I.” Jessa groaned in deliverance, rolling over and claiming Darry’s mouth. Her hand was rough as she yanked open Darry’s trousers and shoved within them. Darry thrust into the contact.

“Can you?” Jessa gasped, her hand drenched in Darry’s spirit. “Shivahsa, Darry!”

Darry pulled at Jessa’s skirt. “Get this…off…”

“Wait.” Jessa laughed, breathless as she freed herself from her skirt and breeches and climbed on top of Darry. She wore but her boots and torn shirt, which fell from her shoulders.

Darry let out a shout at the demanding touch between her legs and Jessa reveled at what she saw, Darry’s body coiled tightly, so much strength at her mercy. “In my hand, Akasha.” Jessa rose onto her knees and Darry’s hips thrust tightly between Jessa’s legs, clenching and straining upward as Jessa pushed her to the verge. “Let me feel you spend.”

“Jess.”

Jessa’s left hand landed firmly between Darry’s breasts. “You’re so hard.” She smiled, feeling altogether dark and lush. Darry’s scent was inside her, a living thing. The panther was inside of her and her majik had awoken at last to meet the challenge and throw back the invasion. “Can you feel me?” Jessa’s heart had never beat so fast. Darry’s head pushed back into the bed. Her throat was exposed completely and the sight of the offering filled Jessa with a rush of dominance as well as love. “Come for me.”

“Jess!”

“Come in my hand, do it now,” Jessa demanded, Darry’s flesh opening beneath her quick, forceful fingers. “Darry.”

Darry grabbed Jessa’s thighs as her entire body seized and gave in.

“Akasha.” The Cha-diah majik swarmed over Jessa in a sensual haze and she soaked it in, feeding on it.

Darry’s body trembled and Jessa felt her power like never before as she settled on Darry’s thighs. She felt the power of the Vhaelin and the strength of her blood reaching back through the generations, of her majik released and claiming her at last. She felt the sway of her love and lust for the woman beneath her. The woman who had stirred into life so many things inside her, the least of which might have been her majik. Jessa brought her hand up and slowly tasted her fingers, smiling in absolute victory.

Darry grabbed Jessa’s waist and Jessa looked down at her, dipping her hand between them once more and playing for a moment. She painted the hard muscles of Darry’s stomach with the evidence of their passion. Her heart gave a push as the flesh quivered beneath her touch, and she rubbed herself against Darry’s abdomen. “If you touch me but a little, my love, I will spend,” she said. “I want to come on you.”

Darry licked her lips. “You…you do it.”

Jessa obeyed, her right hand slipping between her legs.

Darry watched as she stroked herself, her hand becoming a blur of motion. She had never known a woman so beautiful or so dangerous. Jessa threw her head back as she spent, half laughing and moaning her bliss.

Something ancient trembled along Darry’s bones and she knew it was majik, though whether it was hers or Jessa’s she had no idea. All Darry knew was that they were both in trouble. She smiled at the joy of it and held Jessa close as her mouth tasted of the sweet flesh on the inside of Jessa’s left breast.

Strong hands fisted in Darry’s hair and Jessa’s trembling voice filled her head. “Did you feel that?”

“Yes.” Darry groaned. “Yes.”

“I want your mouth next, Akasha.”

Darry laughed helplessly.

“Will you taste what I have for you?”

“You’ll kill us.”

Jessa laughed, the sound low and wanton. She took Darry’s earlobe in her teeth, rough for a heartbeat as her tongue savored and then her lips soothed at the mark. “Maybe,” Jessa whispered. “Maybe just you.”

Darry’s body shook with startled laughter.

“Did I not say I wanted your mouth?”

Darry was at Jessa’s mercy and liked it. “You want me to fuck you with my tongue?”

Jessa smiled at the deliberate words. Darry slipped her fingers inside her, slow but certain. “Is this how you talk, Princess?” Jessa took a heated kiss from her. “Is it?”

“Sometimes.” Darry searched for more when Jessa pulled away.

“I like it,” Jessa said. “Yes. I want you to fuck me with your tongue.”

“If I start, I’ll not stop until you beg me.”

“Fair enough.”

“Until you can’t even scream. Until all you know is my tongue.”

Jessa thought she might spend then and there, all her senses locked tight upon the slow touch within her body. “You really need to stop talking now.”

Darry freed her hand and took Jessa with strength, throwing her onto the mattress as Jessa laughed in surprise. She propped herself onto her elbows and watched as Darry stood, stripped from her clothes, and dropped to her knees beside the bed. She grabbed Jessa’s booted ankles and pulled her toward the edge. Jessa smiled as her head bounced against the blankets and her braids scattered.

Darry’s hands smoothed up her thighs and Jessa swallowed roughly, catching hard at her breath. Darry placed Jessa’s legs over her shoulders and began to taste her way along Jessa’s inner right thigh.

“You’re right,” Jessa said within a gasp. Darry gave her exactly what she had asked for. Jessa grasped one of the spindles of the headboard and the wood creaked at her violent pull. “This might not…” She let out a glorious cry of pleasure that turned into a wild laugh. “Might not, Shivahsa!” Darry’s mouth was like a red hot flame. “Not…not end well.”

Jessa let the panther have her way. She let Darry have her way until she had no idea how many times she cried out; she only remembered that she had not begged. She could not remember how many times they both came or even when Darry’s blood finally relented. The Vhaelin within her was sated and she hummed with approval that she had tamed the panther into submission. And with the taste of Darry’s spirit on her tongue Jessa let her sleep. Darry lay thoroughly defenseless and yet never more protected along Jessa’s body.

Jessa held her with reverence, caressing the strong arm that was thrown lax across her stomach, unable to refrain from still touching her in some way. She sensed the slumbering force of Darry’s body and knew the softness and heat of her breath. Darry’s breasts pressed against her and the lean muscles of the leg draped between her own.

Darry was more pure in her essence than Jessa could ever imagine being herself. Darry let her see everything, not only giving over her body, but her heart and soul as well. Jessa had seen it as they had made love, so furious and with such utter abandon. Jessa had seen it in Darry’s eyes.

Jessa understood that she was inexperienced at such things, at love, but she was not innocent. From the first throat Jessa had seen torn out by Sylban’s dogs, she had not been innocent. She recognized the fragility and the wasteful, cruel nature of life. She had known no mystery since witnessing that first violent act, and she had no illusions as to what life could be. Without reserve and caution one’s chances of becoming a casualty were extremely high. Or so she had thought. Now she was not so certain.

Radha had been wrong. What need do people have for dreams that don’t come true? Every need, old woman. Vhaelin essa, there is every need.

And even the Waters of Truth had not shown her this, and there Radha had been right. The truth of her heart had been hers to discover.

Darry stirred against her, and Jessa closed her eyes in quiet joy as Darry’s body shifted smoothly, skin against Jessa’s skin. Darry’s arm tightened about her waist and she opened her eyes and lifted her face. She was still caught within her sleep. Darry’s eyes were nearly black within the now-fading light from the lamp, her face serene yet filled with a fierce beauty.

“Majik?”

“Yes, my love. My majik is more than yours,” Jessa said softly, shifting and kissing her.

She studied Darry’s face and pushed a strand of her hair to the side. She placed the softest of kisses on Darry’s left cheek, knowing very well where the dimple hid in wait for Darry’s roguish grin.

“Nessa-ahna allah sheetun, tua de Akasha…my love.” She held her face against the heat of Darry’s, breathing in her beguiling scent. You are the wish, Akasha. The wish that I never knew enough to make.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The tantalizing smell of strong karrem filled Jessa’s nose and she woke slowly. She lay sprawled upon the sheets of her bed in only her torn shirt, her disheveled hair scattered across her face. She moved her head along the pillow and spied the cup of steaming karrem on the bedside table.

“You look satisfied.” Radha’s voice was rough and she laughed, sitting in the chair beside the bed and studying Jessa with amused eyes.

Jessa turned her face into the pillow, her laughter rising.

“I suppose I should scold you for arriving so late last night, or should I say early this morn?”

“Leave me be, old woman,” Jessa said as she shifted about and pulled up the sheet.

“Perhaps I should ask what bit you?” Radha pointed out the bruise of a kiss on Jessa’s right breast and another near the base of her neck.

Jessa pushed onto her right elbow and rested her head against her hand, her hair falling in a black tumble down her arm. “And if I were to say a cat did?”

“I would ask what sort of cat?”

“A golden mountain panther.”

Radha laughed, the sound like someone scraping on stones. “You have no modesty,” she chided her. “Lying about half-naked in the middle of the morning.”

Jessa considered her open shirt. “I feel very tired still.” She fell forward into the pillow, her voice muffled. “Vhaelin slova tu anhezza, Radha.”

“Yes, and while you were off being eaten by your panther,” she smiled as Jessa laughed, “I was sitting here waiting, wondering where you were. I even went looking for you.”

“I’m sorry, Radha.”

“It’s all right. I found other things during my search to make it worth my while, a few things for my scrolls. This place, this land even, is rich in secrets and new knowledge.”

“More philosophy, my Radha?” The traveling trunk that carried Radha’s things was more precious than all of their baggage combined, even Jessa knew that. All of her life she had lusted after the spells and scrolls that marked Radha’s immense wisdom, but though Jessa desired to know what secrets they might contain, she respected Radha’s rank. Radha was a High Priestess of the Vhaelin, and she was still but a student. “You will let me read them now, yes?”

“You may read them when you are ready.”

“I am ready now,” Jessa said. I am more powerful now than even you had imagined, my sweet. Can you not feel it?

“Do you think so?” Radha’s voice took on a hard edge. “Now that you have a lover, is that it? Now that you know love, you are wise in all things? But even so, little girl, what other than that has changed?”

Jessa narrowed her eyes. “I have come into my power, old woman.”

“Have you?”

Jessa hesitated at the rigid words. Have I?

“Do not live so fiercely in the moment, Jessa, though it is sweet. And yes, I smell your power. It is like the pepper spice seeds beneath my nose and it makes me want to sneeze. But power without control is disorder and ignores the structure of things. We have yet to test your new strength, and we have no safe place within these walls to do that. So I ask you, when does the song of the lark become silence?”

“When the hawk is near.”

“Yes, and we are in more danger now than ever. If I can smell your power so easily, then Serabee will find your scent with very little trouble. But that does not mean that you cannot savor this moment.” She smiled, her words losing their edge. “You can still feel her kiss?”

“Yes,” Jessa whispered.

“And her touch?”

“Yes.”

“And so life is good, ashanna essa?”

Jessa smiled almost shyly. “She loves me.”

Radha chuckled. “Yes, I know. And where were you? Were you safe?”

“I’m not sure that I was safe, exactly…but the place was secure from prying eyes so you needn’t worry.”

“She did not hurt you in any way, did she?”

“No.” Jessa spoke firmly and gazed down the length of the bed. She felt the blush rise along her neck. “She would never do that, Radha.”

“I only mean that Cha-diah can be very dangerous, child. Remember your place in the order of things. Blood majik can turn quickly, and no doubt she’s been pushed by what was done to her. You must mind the strength and the nature of the animal that is within her and have a care when her power is high. The panther is a wild creature, always remember that. Do not ever forget that, Jessa, or you might both regret it.”

Jessa took note of the counsel and rolled onto her back, stretching her entire body and groaning as her muscles shuddered. She smiled yet again at the sensations humming through her body. Her shirt fell open and slid down her arm as she pushed onto her right hip.

“Chindonna!”

Jessa followed Radha’s gaze and laughed, for yet another bruise from Darry’s mouth was on the inside of her left breast. She closed her eyes for a moment and remembered the getting of it, and her stomach flipped over in a very pleasing manner.

“I hope you gave as well as you received.”

Jessa remembered the scratches on Darry’s back and how she had laughed in astonishment, only to find another along Darry’s neck. Jessa could still hear the sounds of their lovemaking and her heart beat fast. “Yes, I believe I did.”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“No. And I don’t care.”

“Today you meet with the Lady Emmalyn and her dressmakers, and have a late lunch with the Lady Alisha and her mother to discuss her wedding.”

Jessa cursed and threw back the sheet, sliding to the edge of the bed. When her legs flopped over the side she sat still, considering how sore her body was in any number of areas.

“You need a bath,” Radha said.

Jessa narrowed her eyes.

“You smell like your lover.”

Jessa laughed and stepped to the chair, kissing Radha soundly on the cheek. She received a hard slap on her bare thigh for her troubles and stepped away quickly. “Do not be jealous, old woman. It doesn’t suit you.”

Radha marveled at how Jessa moved, seeing the difference in the way she held herself—with a blatant confidence Radha had long prayed for. She could, in fact, smell the Vhaelin swarming like a maelstrom in Jessa’s blood, unleashed at last and singing like nothing she had ever encountered before. The power was unlike any she had even imagined and beyond her most fervent hopes.

It was Jessa’s passion that had set it free, and Radha chided herself for not seeing it sooner. Often the greatest power was buried the farthest out of reach, demanding something primal for its release.

Radha gave a curious grunt and then laughed. “Cha-diah.”

Jessa stuck her head through the door of the washroom. “What?”

The volume of Radha’s amusement intensified as she glimpsed Jessa’s disheveled beauty. “Cha-diah!” she barked.

“What of it?” Jessa demanded, her eyes smiling. “You have no idea, love, none at all.”

Radha tried to catch her breath. “I might.”

Jessa shook her head and disappeared within. “Essa tua nessa…I can barely walk, Darry.” She stepped naked to the tub and climbed in, cringing as she sat in the steaming water. “ Shivahsa!”

Radha appeared in the doorway. “Too hot?”

Jessa moaned her pleasure as she stretched back. “No.” She sighed. “No, it’s perfect, my sweet…absolutely perfect.”

Radha’s curiosity won out. “Does Cha-diah taste as pleasing as its scent?”

Jessa took a breath, sinking beneath the surface and refusing to answer.

“Ungrateful child.”

Joaquin sipped his karrem and watched the soldiers in the courtyard as they prepared for the day’s hunt. One of the private balconies of the expansive Blackwood Lodge gave him a wonderful vantage point, and he considered the amount of timber that went into its construction. Such a building in Lyoness would be for the richest of the court alone, though even then, few could afford it. I shall have to build one myself. He gave a slow smile. And let them fight to be invited to my door.

The day was becoming hot and it was not yet noon, and he pulled at his silken dressing robe. He was naked beneath it and wondered if he should bother with a bath. He could still smell the spirit of the kitchen girl he had fucked before dawn, and though it was an amusing scent, he doubted if his new peers would approve.

He hated the Green Hills. He hated everything about them, especially the dampness. And the insects were everywhere, inescapable. They were large and they bit, and the back of his neck was covered with small welts he had scratched in his sleep. The girl had placed a cool, soothing lotion on them, and he had repaid her well. Not every lowly serving wench could lay claim to having a Prince’s spirit within her womb. Joaquin chuckled and tossed his braid back with a turn of his head. Perhaps my seed will find root in these rotting hills and grow.

“My Lord, you called for me?”

Joaquin turned in the sunlight at Serabee’s voice and gazed back into the shadows of his room. “Yes,” he said, and his thoughts cleared. “And you took your time about it.”

Serabee bowed his head. “My apologies, my Prince.”

Joaquin tossed the karrem from his cup and left the balcony. “What say you then, Serabee? Can you carry out my orders?” He walked to the chair beside the hearth and turned about with a swish of his robe before he sat down. “It is time I made my play.”

“Yes, my Lord, your plan should work.”

“Should?”

“Nothing is ever certain, young Lord, unless the gods allow it.”

“And so does the Fakir bless my glorious ascension to the Jade Throne?” Joaquin knew that his tone was far from respectful. Serabee stared at him with cold, calm eyes and fear fluttered deep in the pit of his stomach. He looked away and spied his clothes for the day on the end of his bed. “I meant no offense.”

“Of course not.” Serabee spoke quietly. “My man will arrive at Blackstone Keep sometime near dawn on the morrow. He will wait for his moment, then carry out your orders.”

“Do you wish the old crone dead as well?” Joaquin thought that he might gift Serabee with something he would appreciate. “No one will miss her.”

“That is not necessary,” Serabee said with a careful smile. He was dressed in his usual black with his brace of throwing knives about his waist. He had a vest on as well. The man wore at least three layers of clothes. “Thank you for the thought, my Prince.”

“I would think you would want her dead,” Joaquin said, then waved his hand at him. “Fickloche aladda, man, aren’t you sweating in all of that?”

“The Lady Radha is not so easy to kill,” Serabee said. “And no, I am not sweating, my Prince. You are perhaps used to a dryer heat.”

Joaquin frowned. “This fucking forest, I don’t know why anyone bothers to take a bath when all you have to do is walk outside.” He looked into his empty karrem cup and considered Serabee’s words. They were not what he expected. “What do you mean she is not so easy to kill?”

“You must trust me on that point,” Serabee said. “As I am a Lord of the Fakir, so is she a High Priestess of the Vhaelin. It is good to respect your enemies at times, my Lord. This my people have learned at a great cost, where the Vhaelin are concerned. Though if she gets in the way, I suppose my man can deal with her.”

“You suppose?”

“Yes, he should be fine.”

“I don’t want him to be fine, Serabee,” Joaquin said with heat, and pushed up from his chair. “I want him to murder my cunt of a sister.” He stepped close to the Fakir Lord and hit his fist against Serabee’s lean, hard chest. It was a firm blow for emphasis and he held his hand there. “And I do not want some slack-mouthed fool of yours making an attempt and failing.”

“No, my Lord.” Serabee took Joaquin’s hand with a gentle touch.

Joaquin blinked and felt the sun from the balcony on the side of his face, then a cool, dry breeze that drifted up from the floor. It washed beneath the hem of his robe and felt wonderful, easing the tackiness of his flesh in the humidity. He heard the horses in the courtyard below and someone laughing, and he remembered the tightness of the kitchen girl’s body and how she had called out his name as he had rammed his cock inside her. She had been a pleasant distraction and so he had not punished her for her lapse in manners when she forgot his title. She had been tight and wet, and she had smelled like kitchen flour. “And grapes,” he whispered.

He felt dizzy for a moment and then looked to his left to find Serabee as they stood beneath the arch to the balcony. Serabee had put his arm about Joaquin’s shoulders in a friendly gesture and Joaquin felt a surge of pride. Serabee had never touched his father so. “But if you think that I should go with him, to ensure that the Lady Radha does not interfere, it might be wise.”

Joaquin followed the logic as he turned away from the balcony and walked slowly to the end of the bed. “Then do it,” he said, picking up his shirt and giving it a shake. “And then Lyoness shall ride to war over the murder of their beloved Nightshade Lark, and my brothers will tear each other to pieces in the process.” Joaquin turned as he draped his clothes over his arm. “And here I shall be, protected in the arms of Arravan.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Serabee said. “It is the most important play of all, and well thought out. They shall not expect it.”

“They all have their own plans.” Joaquin felt tired. He had not felt tired with his karrem, and he wondered if the kitchen girl had worn him out more than he thought. It was the bloody humidity. “All of them, even Jessa, I should imagine.”

“Yes.”

“Malcolm would see his whelp of a son sit on my father’s throne, while offering me the privilege of being the little pig’s counselor. He would put me there to do all the work, and then he would ride in and take what is mine after I have cleaned out the rats for him. Does he think that I cannot see what he’s doing?”

“This way is much better, yes.” Serabee’s voice was oddly soothing. “And after this, your position will be secure, for Malcolm will have no other of Bharjah’s blood to help him complete his plan for Lyoness. He will think to use you as his puppet king, but he does not know you, my Prince. He does not understand how cunning you are.”

“Yes.” Joaquin said and sighed as his anger ebbed away. “Yes…yes, see to things, will you, Serabee?”

“Yes, my Prince, I will see to things.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Jessa sang softly in the early afternoon sun as Darry lay on the ground with her head in Jessa’s lap. She braided together several strands of Darry’s hair, happy at last to have the opportunity. Draped along Darry’s thigh and purring a strange sort of accompaniment to the ballad, Hinsa lay at her leisure, her eyes lazy and staring down one of the twisting paths of the garden maze. Darry absently scratched the giant cat’s head, and its long tail flicked against Jessa’s legs.

Darry opened her eyes, listening to the Lyonese words she could not understand. Jessa stopped as her lips hovered above Darry’s, then continued her song. Darry grinned at the tease as Jessa let her fingers float through Darry’s hair. Jessa’s humor moved within her voice as she sat back and wove the seed of periwinkle within the tightly wound braid.

Darry took hold of a thick curl and pulled gently, and Jessa let her words trail off as their lips met in a pliant kiss. When released from the gentle demand Jessa sang the remaining chorus, which spoke of two lovers on their wedding day. The panther tipped her head back and let out a low rumble, drawing Jessa’s attention.

Hinsa huffed through her nose and yawned, baring her deadly teeth as her long whiskers shivered. Jessa laughed and stretched her arm out, feeling the wet nose against her palm and then Hinsa’s rough tongue as the cat sprawled back onto Darry’s stomach. Darry grunted at the sudden shift in weight.

“She is too heavy?”

“If I had my choice?” Darry responded, “I would rather it be you lying atop me.”

Jessa dropped her hand onto Darry’s stomach. “You’ll hurt her feelings.”

Hinsa flopped her head back, seeking her touch once again. Jessa obliged and ran a careful hand down the animal’s face, feeling the black skin of her jowls quiver.

“They did not lie,” Darry said.

“Who did not lie?”

“The one who claimed your voice might drive men mad and so named you the Nightshade Lark.”

“Have I driven you mad?”

“Sort of.” Darry grinned.

Jessa kissed her once more. “That is the first time I can remember that I have ever sung for the simple joy of it.” And then she kissed her yet again and stroked her tongue against Darry’s before she tasted her lower lip. “Thank you, Akasha.”

“Tell me what it means.”

“Smile as you just did.”

Darry’s dimple appeared once more. “Please?”

Jessa sighed happily and ran her fingers along the cheek. “I am thinking that I like this smile of yours very much. It is different from your others, and though all are very beautiful, this one most makes me want to kiss you.”

“I am at your leisure then, Princess.”

Jessa sat back and began to sing once more as she searched through Darry’s curls for more suitable hair.

“No?”

Jessa ignored her plea.

“You would leave me unsatisfied?”

Jessa stopped singing. “Are you not satisfied?”

“I have duty this eve. I’ll not be able to meet you.”

“You cannot…what do you mean you cannot meet me?”

“The senior officers walk the wall with Longshanks,” Darry said. “And though I’ve been taken from the lists, I must attend. I’m sorry, my love. I cannot get free of it without causing suspicion.”

Jessa did not like what she heard, not at all. “I’ll not be able to touch you until when?”

Darry ran the backs of her fingers down the skin of Jessa’s neck. “Until I say,” she answered, then laughed at the dissatisfaction that greeted her. Hinsa gave a growl low within her throat and shifted her weight. She pushed to her feet and padded through the grass. “Are you angry with me?”

“Perhaps.”

“I should make it up to you then.”

“And ruin my dress? I think not.”

“It would not be the first lady’s dress I’ve ruined.”

Jessa laughed, remembering her words at the pond. She slid her right hand down the front of Darry’s shirt until her hand stopped upon Darry’s belt, which she fingered in contemplation. “Perhaps it is time for your uniform to be ruined, yes? I rather like this dress.”

Darry crossed her legs together at the ankles and sighed, trying to look casual as Jessa’s fingers pulled at the leather and loosed the flap. “Leave off, woman. I’m not interested now.”

Hinsa sat in the grass several feet away and extended her neck, letting loose a rather plaintive yowl.

Jessa laughed, glancing at the panther and then back to Darry in understanding. “I think you are lying, yes?”

“Don’t listen to her. She’s just a cat.”

Jessa pulled the belt open and settled her touch at the top of Darry’s trousers. She yanked them open and slid her hand beneath the material. “Is she?”

“Yes.”

“You’re being led astray, Lady Jessa.”

Jessa enjoyed the flush of color that darkened the skin of Darry’s neck as she slipped her hand farther. Hinsa’s purr rattled in the air around them and Jessa laughed again at the sound. “I’m finding this revealing in more ways than one.”

Darry lifted her head from Jessa’s lap and gazed down the length of her body. “Bloody hell, biscuit, stop it.”

Jessa took the opportunity to kiss her, stealing just a taste. “Will she stay while I touch you?” She was terribly aroused at just the thought and slid her hand even lower, slipping between the tightness of Darry’s legs as Darry squeezed her thighs together. “Do not be stubborn, Darrius.”

For a moment Darry’s eyes were clouded and Jessa sensed her majik.

Hinsa pushed to her feet and walked close. She crowded against them both and rubbed her face along Darry’s. The sound of her purr was jarring, and the back of Jessa’s skull vibrated as Hinsa opened her mouth in Darry’s hair.

“Ouch!” Darry exclaimed. Several strands caught in Hinsa’s teeth as the cat bit and pulled away, causing Darry’s head to jerk to the side.

Jessa grabbed Darry’s waist as Hinsa ran off down the path. “Did she hurt you?” she teased, but let out a startled cry as she was seized about the waist and pulled into an awkward tumble of tangled limbs before Darry settled along her body in the grass.

Jessa turned her face as Darry’s hair glided across her skin and teased her lips. She ran her fingers through it. Darry kissed Jessa’s throat, her breath warm and her mouth tender, her lips pulling sweetly on the skin. Her tongue tasted briefly and her teeth grazed.

Jessa let out a breath of surprise, smelling the heady scent of the Lowlands for an instant. She had not heard the words in her vision and her heart was fierce with anticipation as Darry’s lips brushed against her ear.

“Everything I am is yours. I love you, Jess.”

“I love you,” Jessa said, finding and claiming her waiting lips.

“Why didn’t you send for me sooner?” Owen asked quietly, staring into the cold hearth from his favorite chair. He sat with his legs extended and his shoulders slouched in the familiar leather cushions.

“I thought I might change her mind,” Cecelia answered from the balcony arch. “And I was afraid.”

A wave of guilt followed her words, but Owen accepted it with little argument. Taking the brunt of the rage that was meant for me. That I deserve and no one else.

“Do you understand yet, my love, what you did?”

“I knew what I’d done when Aidan wept. I just didn’t know how to take it back.”

“And do you still believe our son?” she asked. “That to allow Darry the rights and privileges that our other children enjoy with fanfare and freedom will somehow damage five hundred years of your family’s rule? To openly accept another kind of love will weaken his position for the future?”

“I still see her in my dreams sometimes, handing me back your mother’s necklace.”

Cecelia moved across the room then knelt beside him and placed a hand on his leg. “You must accept her, Owen, for who she is. Not who you wanted her to be.”

“You mean Jacey?”

“Yes, my love.”

“She’s nothing like Jacey was.”

“She never was, Owen.”

“I know that. I’ve always known it.”

“Then why have you always fought her so?”

“Because she loved me the same.” He said the words he had never spoken before. “She looked at me the same way, right through me. I couldn’t help but think of them in the same breath, though I knew it was unfair. I kept thinking she would change, even though you told me she wouldn’t. Even though I knew it as well. I never wanted her to be Jacey.”

“The sword is her destiny. And as to how she loves, it is only that, Owen. It’s love, and the heart does as it pleases. No man has a say in this decision, and no woman either. She could no more change the path her heart follows than you could, my darling.”

“I know it. I just thought, well, here is yet another thing I cannot protect her from,” he admitted at last. “Here is yet one more danger she’ll walk into alone, and I must watch as the world tries to destroy her, if only a little at a time.”

Cecelia lifted his hand and placed it against her cheek. “Owen.”

“I thought at the last that at least I could teach her fear.”

Cecelia was startled by the words.

“The fearless die young, my love,” he said. “She had no fear. It was my brother’s fate as well, to walk through the world without fear. Though he finally found it at the end of a sword upon the field. If he had held but a measure of caution, Malcolm would be King now and you and I would’ve lived a different life entirely.

“He was as she is, a natural with the blade. I knew it that day, the day I struck her. I knew her completely when she held her wooden blade to Wyatt’s throat and smiled down at him, waiting for him to yield. And I’ve never been so frightened in all my life. I saw her laid low, but a girl still, for she would rush in as Malcolm had. Not arrogant, but unafraid of losing. She doesn’t understand it. She had no concern for such a thing as failing.

“And when she declared herself backwards? I saw it yet again, though it was my fear for her that led to all of this.”

Cecelia saw his mind at work. She saw the shame he felt at his actions.

“That she kept their love hidden for so long, she had learned to fear and I didn’t see it. It was my fear that listened to our son. I wanted him to be right. I wanted to believe that the council would turn against me. I wanted the Bloods up in arms. I wanted Aidan’s father to break from the Guilds and campaign against me on the strength of his disapproval. If they did these things, I would not be wrong in my own displeasure at their love, for how could that be love? How could I protect her from something I didn’t understand?”

“Owen.”

“No, Cece,” he said. “But I knew when Aidan wept. When she looked at me and spoke of saving Darry’s honor, no matter what it cost her. Bloody hell, she was just a girl.”

“Owen, you must finally answer for what you did. And we must deal with Malcolm for what he’s done. That he shared such things with Marteen and Melora. It was a cruelty that Darry will seek satisfaction for. It was in the worst form possible and unworthy of him. We’ve made a terrible mistake in allowing him his feud. It is founded only in prejudice. It serves no purpose but to torture them both.” She felt fear at her own words. “And I think it’s made him careless, Owen, and cruel.”

“I see it,” he said. “It’s in his voice when he loses patience. A distaste and contempt for the opinions of others. An arrogance in his manner that’s dangerous.”

“I think we should look more closely at what he’s doing,” she said, remembering Jessa’s words from the grove. “I’ve reason to believe that Mal plays a deeper game here, one that neither you nor I has any knowledge of.”

“The girl.”

“Yes.”

“I know it. He is too focused on Joaquin. There’s a play that runs deeper, and our Lyonese peacock is up to his neck within it. As is Mal, I fear. He has that look he gets when he’s living in the distance. When we thought he would court Celine, he had the same look…dreaming of the future and making grand plans. It’s time that Mal and I had a talk.”

“But Darry first,” Cecelia said. “You must answer to her first or she’ll be lost to us, do you understand?” Her tears slipped free. “Don’t let her run, Owen, please. I can’t lose another child. I can’t do it.”

“I never meant to hit her.”

“Owen?”

“Yes, love?”

“There’s something else you need to know.”

He took a deep breath at her words and let it out slowly. “Of course there is.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Your rooms are good then?” Emmalyn looped her hand in Nina’s arm as they walked.

“Bloody hell, Emma.” The freckles across Nina’s nose glowed as her cheeks lifted in a smile. “If my sister brings any more luggage I’m going to shove her lovely ass into the biggest trunk I can find and send her back home in it.”

Emmalyn laughed. “And the house was fine?”

“Of course. They sent me ahead to do a serf’s work, as always.” Nina spied Jessa moving down the stairs. “Where in the seven hells is Darry, anyway? Jessa!”

Emmalyn lifted her arm free and pushed her to the side as they walked. “Princess Jessa to you, water rat!”

Nina’s eyes flared. “Don’t start that again.” She growled, sounding both annoyed and amused. “I like the water, what of it?”

Jessa came down the last steps into the foyer. “Am I late for our lunch?” she asked, knowing already that she was.

“You cannot be late, Jessa,” Emmalyn said. “It’s only lunch.”

“You look damn fine, Jessa.” Nina took her elbow. “Let us find a few bottles of good spring wine, shall we?”

“Yes, let us have it, Lady Lewellyn,” Jessa said.

“Fucking hell and hounds.” Nina laughed. “Call me that again, Jess, and I shall never speak to you again. Even if you do marry my fool stick of a cousin. He may be the King of Arravan one day, but he’ll always be a stick.”

Emmalyn laughed and stepped close, putting a hand over her cousin’s mouth. “Ignore her, please, Jessa. She’s a smelly street urchin we picked from the gutters and has yet to learn her manners.”

Nina’s eyes narrowed in a threatening manner.

“Will you behave?”

Nina mumbled against her hand and Emmalyn released her, whereupon she turned to Jessa. “Have you seen Darry? I’m here for days and days and not even a kiss hello? She can’t escape me now. I’ve taken over the north wing and intend to root myself here until after Solstice. Father can look after his own bloody house when he gets here. Do you know where she is?”

“I imagine not far behind,” Jessa answered, “knowing that you’ve arrived. She’s had duties that must be seen to, though most likely she was thinking of you while she did them.”

Emmalyn stared. Jessa’s voice as she had spoken of Darry filled with something familiar and altogether intimate. She had spoken as if answering for Darry were as natural to her as taking a breath. She answers for her lover. Mother was right. Bloody hell, Mother was right.

“Darry is a rogue and a cad for ignoring me,” Nina said.

“Yes, she’s a cad for certain,” Jessa said in a faraway voice.

Emmalyn saw it in Jessa’s eyes. She recognized the emotions and the tell-tale signs of desire. She knew what it was like to be unable to control her body’s response to Royce’s touch, or even the thought of it in an unguarded moment. This will spill like blood to the foot of your throne, Father. My sister’s blood, and now mine as well. All of us.

“Emma?” Jessa asked.

“I’m starving.” Emmalyn turned her thoughts as smoothly as she could. “Off we go.”

The three of them moved toward the great hall and Nina started the tale of opening her father’s house in the city and preparing it for her family’s arrival. Her language was peppered with curses and phrases both hilarious and decidedly ill-advised, considering her rank. Neither Emmalyn nor Jessa could resist their laughter, however, for Nina’s charm was too great and her enthusiasm for the tale far too amusing. When Emmalyn mentioned the impropriety of her language, Nina shrugged.

“I can’t help it, Emma,” she said. “Everything is so big inside it just comes out that way.”

“I rather like it, water rat, if you must know.”

“Water rat?” Jessa asked.

“Don’t you start too, Jess,” Nina said.

“Nina!”

Nina turned quickly at the voice and looked back the way they had come, then gave a whoop to rival a war call, lifting her skirt as she ran.

Darry watched Nina, impressed by her speed as she closed the distance between them, and laughed as she braced herself for the impact. A few seconds later Nina was in her arms and clinging to her neck.

“Darry!” she cried happily and Darry whirled in a circle. Darry felt kisses on her face and laughed harder, setting her down. “Darry.” Nina smiled, breathless. “I’ve missed you.”

Darry pushed the hair away from Nina’s beautifully freckled face. “And I you.”

Nina stepped back and let her hands slide along the lapels of Darry’s royal blue jacket and trousers. “Cocks and balls, Darry, but you look bloody fucking handsome.”

“And you’re even fouler than last time we met, my sweet.”

“I’ve been practicing in the pubs,” Nina proclaimed. “Where my tongue is given the respect it deserves.”

“I stand in awe,” Darry replied. “You cut your hair.”

Nina shrugged. “It was very heavy. Too hard to swim.”

“My champion paddler. I would see you race a tiger fish in the Sellen Sea,” she said. “Auntie Phillipa must’ve had a bloody seizure.”

Nina leaned against her. “You have no idea.”

“Seven hells, the wedding. On Winter’s Eve?”

Nina made a sour face. “Yes, and it won’t grow back in time. I’ve heard it all, you must trust me.”

“How is Hammond?”

“He’s fine. He’s always fine. Gods, Darry, but our foreign Princess is bloody-well beautiful. I like her.”

Darry followed her gaze to see Jessa smiling as Emmalyn spoke to her. “Yes,” she said simply. She’s everything. “So do I.”

“Does she really intend to marry Malcolm?”

“She will marry someone, I think.” Darry pulled at her hand. “Come on. I’m dying for my lunch.”

“I hear you danced the Mohn-Drom, cousin.”

Darry let out a startled laugh as they followed Jessa and Emmalyn. “Yes, and it was perhaps ill-advised.”

“Practically fucking on the dance floor, Darry. You’re even more shameless than I am, and with a man, no less!”

“But you were not here yet, my sweet, or I would’ve danced it with you.”

“And I probably would’ve let you take me afterward as well,” Nina said with a touch of wickedness. “The Mohn-Drom is a very serious dance.”

“You’re my first cousin, my love.”

“Cousins have fucked before,” Nina said, coyly lifting an eyebrow. “How else can you explain my sister’s husband?”

Darry laughed and seized her waist as they passed beneath the arch. Nina let out a startled cry as Darry swept her up. “Poor Bernard, you’re worse than I am, Nina.”

“I know, isn’t it grand?”

They danced a step gracefully to the music of Nina’s laughter.

Emmalyn stood beside Jessa on the far side of the dance floor as Darry led Nina through their steps, both women extremely graceful as Nina pressed against Darry rather shamelessly.

“I like your cousin very much,” Jessa said. Though she presses too closely.

“They’ve always adored each other,” Emmalyn replied. “Stuck together through thick and thin, and alike in so many ways.”

“Yes, they’re both wild at heart and honest.”

Emmalyn felt instantly threatened at Jessa’s words and the adoration she heard within them, and a swell of dread rose in her throat. She wanted to cry out as Darry and Nina danced, afraid it would all come crashing down. Everything, and her sister’s life would hang in the balance.

Darry and Jessa were alone, and Emmalyn would not allow it despite her mother’s order for silence. Their father would be home by now and it would all end, one way or another. She made the decision with very little difficulty. If Darry and Jessa were truly in love, it would not be only Darry who disappeared into the night.

Jessa looked down as Emmalyn took her hand fiercely.

“Don’t take her,” Emmalyn said. Jessa paled and Emmalyn saw that she was right. “Please, Jessa, don’t run.”

Jessa tried to pull her hand away but Emmalyn held tighter.

“Whatever must be done, Jessa, I’ll help you. I swear it. I’m on your side, do you hear?”

Jessa stepped back but Emmalyn followed as Jessa looked at the dance floor.

“Jessa?”

You’ll not take her from me. Jessa was panicked. I will see you all burn before that happens. She returned to Emmalyn, trying to arrange her thoughts about her sudden reaction. “What do you mean?”

“That you’re backwards as well? That you love my sister? Don’t be afraid, Jess. I couldn’t be happier. She’s as dear to me as the sun, and I hold you very dear as well.”

“Who else knows?” Jessa demanded.

“Mother. Our mother knows.”

“Darry!” Jessa called, yanking her hand away.

Darry faltered within their dance at the sound of her name spoken in such a manner.

“Jessa, I’m not your enemy.”

Darry moved instantly, crossing the floor between them with a startled Nina close at her heels. Jessa took several steps to meet her and Darry took her hand. “She knows,” Jessa said.

Emmalyn recognized the dark expression upon Darry’s face and stepped forward. “I know you want to run, Darry. I know it and I don’t blame you. I know about Aidan.”

Darry’s left temple twitched. Jessa tightened her hold on her hand and Darry returned the pressure.

“I won’t let that happen again, Darry, do you hear me? I won’t.” Emmalyn held out her hand, seeking to calm the storm that rose within Darry’s eyes. “You promised. You promised you wouldn’t hide from me.”

Darry was torn. More than anyone it was Emmalyn she had always wanted to be like. It was Emma she had always revered as the woman she wished to emulate, if only in some small way.

“Yes, it’s only me, Darry,” Emmalyn whispered. “You’ve nothing to fear.”

“Mother knows?”

Seven hells. “Yes.”

Jessa’s eyes were fearful as Darry touched her cheek, but above all Darry saw love, and she let it wash through her with so much strength that she felt her majik rise. “Go and find Bentley, Jess. He’ll be in the yards. Find him and tell him what’s happened.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You must go, Jess, please.”

“No.”

“If you find Bentley I’ll know you’re safe. I can’t do anything that must be done if you’re not safe, my love.”

“Akasha, no.”

“The game is over,” Darry said. “We must go now, we can’t stay. Our plans have changed, do you understand? We’re in danger and I’ll not have it.”

“I’ll take her,” Nina said. “I’ll go with you, Jess.”

“Go with Nina,” Darry said, never looking from Jessa. “Do you understand, Nina? Bentley Greeves and no one else.”

“Aye, Darry, I’m with you. Just like always, cousin.”

“Find Bentley, Jess, and tell him. You must tell him.”

Jessa looked long into her eyes, seeing purpose and a steady confidence, a calm strength that eased her own fear. She had been waiting her whole life and now her freedom was near, whether she was ready for it or not. She took hold of Darry’s neck, pulled her close, and kissed her with passion, deeply and without reservation.

“Amar’s breeches,” Nina said. “Bloody Darry.”

Jessa released her and walked away.

“Nina,” Darry said firmly.

Nina started and rushed forward, chasing her.

Darry turned back to Emmalyn. “Whatever you’re thinking, Em, it’s not enough.”

“You can’t know that, Darry, you can’t.”

“She lied to me,” Darry said. “Father and Malcolm, what they did, they’ve stolen my honor. As if it meant nothing, they took it. I would no more stay here than I would cut my own throat.”

“But I am here,” Emmalyn said. “And Jacob, and Alisha…and Mother.”

“Weren’t you listening?”

“Yes,” Emmalyn answered with force, stepping closer. “And I was also there when she told the tale and wept as she did, cursing herself to Gamar for her part in it. She is guilty of trying to spare you pain, that’s all, Darry.

“How she went about it I can’t condone, but I’m not sure I would’ve done it differently. She had nothing to do with breaking you from Aidan. She tried to pick up the pieces, that’s all. And I was there when she told me about you and Jessa, for neither of you can hide what you feel from a mother’s eyes, nor mine now that I look for it. I was there when she spoke of trying to help you both and swore an oath upon her own blood that she would see it through. Don’t run, Darry. Stay and fight.”

“Emma, you’ve lost your mind. Fight? Fight for what?”

“For your birthright. You’re of royal blood and you have a place here. If you don’t want that, fine. I will give you Evan’s lands and gladly, and you and Jessa may live there in peace. But don’t break from this house or the ones that love you. Don’t do it, Darry, please.”

Darry’s expression softened at the unexpected words. “She is a daughter of Lyoness, Emma. She’s Bharjah’s only daughter, don’t you see? Bharjah’s daughter. She is his most valuable piece of jade to barter with. There’ll be no peace for us if we stay in the open. We will be the stag in the hunt.”

“Well, yes, that’s a bit of a problem. I see your point.”

“You’d give me Evan’s lands?”

“I would give you anything you ask for,” Emmalyn said simply. “I love you. I even love her, I think, for she’s bloody well wonderful.”

“This I know.”

“Let me help you.”

Darry was torn as she felt the pull of it, the desire to have such strength on their side. “No. You would be pitted against Malcolm and that cannot be. Your children will be in line for the throne should he have no heir.”

“I’ve lost one sister already,” Emmalyn returned fiercely. “I did not like it.”

Darry’s heart gave a painful twinge. “Jacey.”

“Yes, Jacey Rose. I watched her die and could do nothing to help her. And so you would leave me as well without a backward glance? And what of Wyatt? He’s a thousand leagues away and yet when he returns home to learn that you’re gone from him forever? It will kill him, Darry, and you know it.”

“Emma, don’t put it in such a way, please.” Darry couldn’t conceal her pain. “She is my love. Jessa is my love, even as Royce is yours. Even as Evan was.”

“But that’s what you must do if you run. You must give up one for the other.”

“Then I choose Jessa. I will always choose her. I’m sorry, Emma, if that hurts you. If it hurts Wyatt.”

“Stay and fight for what is yours!” Emmalyn said. “You’ll not fight alone, I assure you of that.”

“There is nothing here that is mine, as it was meant to be,” Darry said with quiet truth. “That was made very clear to me. I have only what they allow me to have, out of conscience, perhaps, or guilt. Or perhaps no choice at all, for my blood is as you say and cannot be denied. What scraps they would throw me I no longer want.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Malcolm will just calmly allow the woman brought here for him to judge to share my bed? To publicly scorn him in preference for his backwards sister, whom he hates and thinks of as diseased?” Emmalyn’s shoulders fell slightly as she absorbed Darry’s words. “No matter that he doesn’t want her, he’ll not allow it. And he’s proven his ability to sway whomever he must to his cause. Aidan is proof of that. What they did is proof of many things.”

Emmalyn’s frustration showed in her eyes. “No.”

“The end result of that, Emma, would be our brother dead and my neck upon the block. I’ll kill him if he tries to take her from me. Jessa is mine, even as I am hers. No one will break that. I won’t allow it.”

Emmalyn had no rebuttal.

“And I’ve known our father’s feelings toward me since I was twelve years old. I’m not Jacey Rose and he’s never forgiven me for that. As a girl I used to put flowers on her tomb, and I’d whisper to her of our father and how he missed her. I would apologize for not being good enough and swear to try harder.”

“Periwinkle.” Emmalyn said. The periwinkle was you.

“I don’t do that anymore, Emma, because I am good enough and I needn’t try harder to prove it. It’s he who is unworthy. For though I’m not the daughter he wanted, neither is he the father I needed.”

“No one has ever wanted you to be Jacey,” Emmalyn said carefully. “Did he tell you that?”

“Quite clearly, actually, upon the end of his fist.”

Emmalyn was shocked by the statement. “When?”

Darry could see her thinking, searching back through the years. “It doesn’t matter, Em, it doesn’t. We would be free and that can’t happen here.”

Emmalyn remembered. She remembered quite clearly Darry’s battered face and her cut hands, and their mother’s words that she had gotten into a fight and fallen. That she had struck her face against the stones and cut her hands as well. She remembered how Darry had refused to talk about it no matter how hard she had pressed. “You didn’t fall,” Emmalyn whispered, extending her hand. And he wouldn’t touch you. Even at Solstice he pulled away. “You didn’t fall.”

“I fell a great distance, actually.”

“You should’ve told me.”

“I loved him.” Darry took Emmalyn’s hand. “I forgave him.”

“Darry.”

“He wouldn’t allow me the one that I loved, though she had no true standing in the world but for her family’s good name. Do you think he’ll let me love a daughter to the King of Lyoness? That he will allow?”

“But how can—”

“What if it were you, Emma?” Darry said. “And they took Royce from you, because they decided in some back room that your love wasn’t pure enough? That you were sick because you loved him and it was easier for everyone if the problem just went away altogether?”

Emmalyn felt everything beneath her begin to crumble. Father, what have you done? “I’ll give you Evan’s lands. Don’t leave until I’ve given you the deeds. Do you understand?”

“You don’t have to do that, Em.”

“Take the land!” Emmalyn snapped, trying to wrap her thoughts around defeat. “Bloody hell, I’m sorry, love. Just take the land, Darry, please. Whether you go there or not, at least it will be yours. You’ll always have your own place. And in the meantime you may leave missives for me there, and the seneschal will see that I get them. That is something, at least, and I would know that you and Jessa are well.”

“I’ll find you, Emma,” Darry promised her. “And I’ll find Wyatt and Jacob as well. After we’re safe and free from harm.”

“And where might that be?”

Darry spun about at the deep, familiar voice, reaching for her sword.

Chapter Thirty

Jessa moved along the fence, searching through the crowded yard as the sound of weapons and laughter filled the air. She saw Bentley standing by a sword post. His shirt was off and his muscled torso shone with sweat as he handed a sword to a younger man.

“Bentley!”

“Princess.” Bentley smiled beneath his mustache as he neared. His pleasure at seeing her faded quickly. “What’s happened?”

“They know,” Jessa said, and his expression hardened in response. “She sent me to find you, but I’m afraid for her. Please, Bentley, we must go back. I cannot leave her to face this alone.”

“Yes,” Bentley said. His eyes narrowed in scrutiny, seeing Nina. “And you are?” he asked as she stood on the fence.

“Nina Lewellyn,” she answered. “And whatever trouble my cousin is in, I’m in it with her. So would you fucking step it up, please?”

Bentley’s eyes flashed. “As you wish, my Lady.” He stepped back into the yard, lifting a hand to his mouth. The whistle that rang out was piercing. Across the yard Darry’s Boys came to attention, their weapons falling still. “To Darry!” he yelled, his voice booming and filled with command.

Nina jumped to the ground as Bentley ran to the fence, grabbed the top rail, and vaulted over. He took Jessa’s hand. “Off we go then, my Lady. Off to keep our girl out of trouble.”

Owen Durand watched Darry’s hand fall empty to her side. Lucky for me, I think. He walked across the dance floor, holding her eyes even from a distance. But unfair yet again. He unhooked the clasps that held his sword. When he came to within a few yards he tossed the weapon. Darry caught the scabbard with her left hand as her right curled about the hilt.

Standing in judgment at last, Owen put his right hand into his pocket and then pulled free, opening before Darry as Cecelia stepped close behind him.

Darry bared her teeth at the sight of her grandmother’s sapphire, and she pulled on the blade. The steel pinged from the scabbard as she met her father’s eyes. Her blood rose and she clutched the sword so tight she feared she would bend it. “Why?”

“Because I was a fool.”

“Yes. So was I.”

“No, Darry, never that.”

It really was for nothing, all of it. The sudden clarity stunned Darry. Wanting your love, wanting you to be proud of me. Always waiting for your slightest nod of approval or your touch on my shoulder as when you would praise Wyatt. For even just a smile to show that you understood me, if only a little. Always begging for the scraps of your love, my whole life, desperate for even a kind word and my pride undone when you never gave it. And where has it left me?

My name was once Durand, and I know the blood of Kings.

Darry threw the scabbard behind her and set the blade against her left hand, just beneath the guard. The deadly edge bit into her flesh in a smooth line as she pulled. Her blood slid down its polished steel. She threw the blade on the floor at her father’s feet.

She delved in her own pocket with her wounded hand, wrapped her fingers around the gold of her family medallion, and brought it forth. She studied it, the writing and her family’s crest stained with the blood it represented. It felt good, the wound, for she could hold it out for the world to see and no one could mistake that she had taken a blow.

Owen watched the blood slide through her fingers, all of his hope sinking in the reality of what was happening. He had expected her rage, but not this. Not the decision already made. He had never meant to corner her, but that was exactly what had happened, and even as before he could not undo it. What a cock-up you are, old man.

Darry tossed the medallion.

The gold crest spun oddly with its heavy linked chain and hit the floor between his boots with a solid clank.

“I relinquish my title as a child of the Durand line,” Darry announced in a calm voice, squeezing her fingers tight as she held out her hand. The blood began to drip on the stones before her boots. “And I resign my commission in the service of my King, who is no longer my Lord. And if I could drain the blood that is yours from my veins and still walk away, I would do it, just to be free of you at last.”

“Darrius, please.” Cecelia’s voice broke as she stepped forward.

“I love you, Mother.” Darry’s words stopped her. “For whatever part you played, I forgive you. And I ask for your forgiveness in return. Please excuse me for my disrespectful words and my lack of kindness toward you. I was wrong to have blamed you. You did nothing except seek to protect me, even if you lied to me in the process.” I can give you that at least, but no more. Darry remembered Jessa’s words in Tristan’s Grove and how they had soothed her, how they had made the difference when she had not wanted to believe. “And I forgive you in Aidan’s stead as well. She forgives you.”

“Darry,” Cecelia pleaded.

“Thank you for loving me so,” Darry said, her voice thick with feeling. “Thank you, Mother, for giving me my sword.”

Cecelia’s tears slipped free. “You’re most welcome. Please don’t do this.”

“Your mistake is corrected at last, Owen Durand. And the child you once said you should not have had? You have no more.”

He seized her by the wrist before she could step away, his hand marked with her blood. His anger flared, seeing the truth of it and that Cecelia must have known. A profound panic stirred in his chest that Darry had heard his long-ago words. The words he bemoaned thinking, even more than he regretted what had come before. “Forgive me, Darry. Forgive me.”

“Let go of me.”

He released her instantly.

“If you truly seek forgiveness, seek it from Aidan McKenna. That you would injure me so I should’ve expected. But what you did to her fills me with shame. Not because you’re my father, but because you were my King and I thought you to be a good one. A man that I was willing to give my life for, no matter the troubles between us. That you could abuse your power and position so easily and bring it to bear against a girl who had no defense against you? That was a truly dark thing.”

“I know it.”

They stood in silence. Owen knew that she would not change her mind. Darry turned and walked away, never looking back.

“Owen,” Cecelia said.

“I cannot force her. She was there. She heard what I said.”

“Yes.”

Emmalyn took a hard breath, Darry’s words singing within her head. The child you said you should not have had. She swallowed her emotions and shock, wanting to deny it. But their father’s words echoed close behind. She was there. She heard what I said.

Emmalyn approached the sword and knelt down. She studied Darry’s medallion stained with royal blood, sealing the image hard within her memory where it burned clean and unforgiving.

“Emma, please.”

The child you said you should not have had. Oh, Darry, I’m so sorry.

Emmalyn picked up the necklace with a trembling hand. “Here, my Lord,” she said, and Owen held out his hand. She placed the bloodied crest in his palm and lowered the chain after, letting it swirl with a gentle clinking of the links.

Owen saw the shame in her eyes and the anger as well, twisted and confused among her pain. There were tears but they did not fall. “Emma.”

“You should put this next to Jacey’s,” Emmalyn said, her voice cold.

He closed his hand as Emmalyn walked away, following her sister.

Chapter Thirty-One

“Darry!” Jessa called, and everyone slowed at the sight of Darry walking beneath the timbers of the high terrace above.

Darry smiled at the sight of Jessa and the company of her friends and wanted to laugh despite the ruin her heart was in, despite that she had just forsaken her entire life. For a better one. With a quick, certain breath, she opened her arms as Jessa neared. For you, Jess, and me as well.

Jessa let out a soft sound of joy as Darry put her arms around her waist and lifted her up. “I’m all right, love.”

Jessa touched Darry’s face, not understanding the roguish expression, though her heart skipped as always at the sight of Darry’s dimple. “What is it?”

“Perhaps I should introduce you.”

Jessa frowned and Darry turned her around. Jessa let out a deep breath and stepped back into Darry’s body at the sight of their audience. Darry’s Boys and Nina Lewellyn smiled at her. Several of the men looked down at the blush that crept up Jessa’s cheeks.

“Darry’s Boys? This is the Princess Jessa-Sirrah de Cassey LaMarc de Bharjah, and she is my love. Jessa? These are my Boys,” Darry said. They all bowed their heads to Jessa, smiling like playful youngsters and looking a bit too happy about things.

“You are my love,” Darry whispered beside Jessa’s ear.

“What does this mean, Darry?” Arkady asked.

Darry took a deep breath and straightened. She met Arkady’s eyes and then looked to each of her friends in turn, landing upon Bentley at the last. No one was smiling anymore. “I have just relinquished my title and given up my rank,” she said. Jessa turned into Darry’s side and stood closer, sliding her arms about Darry’s waist. “I’ve had words with the King, for he returned early from the Green Hills—” Darry looked down as Jessa grabbed her collar, her eyes filled with concern. “All is well.”

She returned her attention to her friends. “There are many reasons for what I’ve done, but you should know that I’m not to be allowed a love of my own. For political reasons and perhaps hatred as well. I am backwards and will not deny it, and maybe this doesn’t sit well with some. Their reasons are their own and I cannot change them.”

It was not exactly the way of things as they stood, but the words were true enough and Darry felt comfortable with them. “And I’m very tired of trying. I’m tired of it. That my love is not good enough for them? I find this unacceptable, and so I’ve broken with my blood and my King.”

Bentley saw how Darry held her hand back and saw the blood on her sleeve and staining the leg of her trousers. He was not the only one. He narrowed his eyes as he searched past her, seeing Emmalyn standing beneath the entrance that led to the foyer and the staircase beyond.

“I won’t ask you to give up what you’ve earned, for I am so very proud of you. I can’t tell you how proud.” Darry’s voice became rough as she stared at the floor, unable to face them now that she was finally saying the words. She shook her head and a long minute of silence stretched out. “I love you,” she whispered, though they all could hear her. “I love you all so very much. I am humbled when I look at you, for the happiness of such a gift, your friendship.” Jessa’s arms tightened around her and gave her strength. “I was born a Durand without any say and so made royal blood by the will of Gamar, but it was you that taught me what that could mean. And taught me the honor of such a thing. And I shall miss you all, more than you’ll ever know.”

Arkady spoke gently into the silence that followed her words. “Why will you miss us?”

Darry swallowed over the fist within her throat, still refusing to face them.

“We would go with you, Captain,” Theroux spoke up.

“Aye,” Jemin said. “I’ve had enough of this bloody uniform anyway. It has never fit me right. It’ll be good to move free once more.”

“There are horses to be caught upon the plains,” Matthias said. “And gold to be made when we catch them.”

“And pubs I’ve yet to see,” Lucas added, smiling. “And women that have yet to mock me.”

“I shall hit you in the head, Darry,” Tobe Giovanni said, “if you leave me at the will of bloody Longshanks.”

“Who will fight me in the Dance?” Etienne asked. “Not these clods.”

“Who’ll braid my hair?” Orlando sounded genuinely disturbed. “Bentley?”

“Gamar save us all,” Lucien muttered, and there was quiet laughter as Bentley actually blushed at the comment.

“You would abandon me as well?” Sybok stepped forward, his voice thick with disbelief. “You would leave me, Darry?”

Darry closed her eyes and Jessa touched her cheek. “Akasha.”

“We’re not Darry’s Boys,” Lucien said plainly, “without you, Darry.”

“Perhaps you’re thinking that because you’re no longer a princess or a captain, that we cannot follow you?” Arkady asked.

“Bloody hell,” Darry said beneath her breath.

“But you are a princess, Lady Jessa-Sirrah,” Arkday said, and Jessa looked at him in surprise. “Are you still of Lyoness?”

“Darrius is my country,” Jessa said. “I am LaMarc, no longer de Bharjah.”

“Then we could swear our oath to you, Princess,” Arkady proclaimed.

Jessa could not have been more shocked had he struck her.

“No doubt your consort could find a use for us, my Lady.”

Darry’s eyes filled with tears though they never fell.

Jessa’s heart ached at the struggle of it, at seeing her so helpless and vulnerable. You shall not give up everything for me, Akasha, not this as well. I’ll not allow it. “On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“That you never, ever dance the Mohn-Drom with my beloved again.”

Darry gave a breathless laugh, pulling Jessa into her arms and burying her face in dark curls and the scent of jasmine.

Every one of the men stepped forward and bent to a knee. Darry stepped back and left Jessa to stand before them. Jessa appeared decidedly uncertain and out of her depth.

“You must accept their oath.” Darry smiled from behind her, her right hand at the small of Jessa’s back to keep her from stepping away.

“And then what?”

“We pack our things, my love.”

“Do you accept us into your service, Princess?” Bentley said with a bold grin. “We are a drunken lot and our manners are poor, but we’re loyal unto the grave and would serve you until you’d have us no more.”

“Or we die clogging a gutter somewhere,” Tobe mumbled happily, and there was laughter, including Darry’s.

“Take us, Lady Jessa.” Arkady smiled up at her. “And I promise never to dance the Mohn-Drom with your beloved again. Though I would ask for another dance now and then, for she’s cracking good.”

“Not even that.”

Arkady frowned. “You’re too harsh, my Lady.”

Jessa gave in. “Perhaps just one.”

“Say you accept us,” Bentley said kindly. “My knee is beginning to hurt.”

“I accept you.” Jessa stepped back as they surged to their feet at her words. Darry’s right arm slipped about her and held her safe as they all stood close.

Names were given then, one at a time as they approached. Jessa smiled and accepted their hands in introduction. They bowed their heads to her, and when she told them in an irritated voice to stop, there was happy laughter.

“Go and see to things then,” Darry said when they stood waiting for their orders. “We’ll leave the day after tomorrow. I would see us gone before the others return from the Green Hills. If you’d like to bring anyone with you, it would appear that one or two more will make no difference.”

“My sister?” Jemin asked, his voice hopeful.

“Always, Jemin. Marlee is most welcome.”

“Let’s go.” Bentley ordered and started pushing them back. “Let us go and give our lovely Grissom a seizure when we all resign at once, eh?”

“Should I see to your hand, Darry?” Tobe approached, reaching out.

Jessa saw the blood for the first time and grabbed Darry’s left wrist. “Tua Nahla engitta!” she cursed, and her eyes blazed as Darry stepped back from her. “ Zaneeshahoonta, Darrius Lauranna.”

Darry gritted her teeth. “It’s nothing. Just a cut.”

Jessa inspected the wound and saw that it would need stitches as fresh blood seeped forth. She understood at once that it had been self-inflicted, a symbolic breaking of her blood. The Durand line had been sliced apart.

“Nothing?” Jessa snapped, trying to ignore her sadness. If there was a line of the Blood that did not deserve such a thing, it was the line of Durand. She had learned that much at least. Despite their mistakes and their rivalries, they had shown her what a family could be. “ Patra sillas, I am loving a fool.” She growled and then scolded her again as laughter rang out among the soldiers around them watching Darry humbled and berated beneath her lover’s worry.

Darry grabbed her and kissed her, and though Jessa tried to argue against it, Darry’s tongue slid past her lips and Jessa moaned, giving in. Their love had been declared and they were free.

Bentley chuckled, reaching out as his boot crowded another foot. Nina Lewellyn stepped back from him and looked up as he brushed her elbow. “Would you care to give your oath to the country of Darrius?” he asked her with a grin.

Nina stared at him.

His smile faded as he regarded the pain in her eyes, a flush of heat moving through his chest at the sight of it.

“I’ve just lost a kinsman, Lord Greeves, and one of my favorite people in all the world.” The insult was clear within her voice. “And though my heart is full that she’s found love at last, no doubt I’m about to watch as my family is torn apart. Your careless charm is not welcome, thank you.”

“I’m sorry, Lady Lewellyn,” Bentley replied in all sincerity, stepping closer as Etienne bumped into him from behind. “Honestly, I meant no offense. I love this family well. I know the pain here, most certainly better than you do. I wasn’t making light of it.”

“Weren’t you?”

“No. But I’m happy at the hope of a new life for us all, and my dearest friend has her love well in hand. I’ll not apologize for feeling joy at that.”

Darry’s Boys retreated the way they had come, their talk bursting forth as to their unexpected future. There was laughter and most definitely joy. “I would not have you apologize,” Nina replied in a quiet, sullen voice. “I’m sorry at my tone.”

“What would you have me do then, to make your eyes smile?”

“Try putting on a shirt,” Nina answered dryly, and walked away.

“You stink as well,” Etienne said, stepping up behind him.

“Shut your mouth, Blue.”

Etienne laughed and set a hand on his shoulder. “The pretty girl doesn’t like you, I think. Perhaps she might find blue eyes more to her pleasure.”

“No doubt,” Bentley replied. “How do you feel about buying some wagons?” He turned away from Nina’s retreating figure.

“We should get Theroux.”

“All right, do it. I’ll meet you in the yards.”

“What about you?”

“Why, I’m going to find a shirt, of course,” he replied, spinning Etienne about and following him close. He glanced over his shoulder, but the Lady Lewellyn appeared to have forgotten all about him.

Jessa lay on her left side, her arm propped on the pillows of her bed. Darry lay beside her, tucked close along her body. Jessa held her left hand, the heavy gauze brown with the stain of the herbs she had applied over Darry’s wound. “Not exactly how I wanted you in bed.”

Darry smiled. “The night is still new.”

Jessa enjoyed the suggestion, though she could hear Darry’s pain beneath it. “Yes, well, I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

Darry turned her head toward her. “Thank you, Jess.”

“I did nothing.”

“They’re my friends.”

“They love you even as I do. And besides, the trouble that my Radha will cause will be twice as bad. They shall all rue the day.”

Darry laughed quietly, turned her face back to the pillow, and shifted closer. Jessa obliged her and lifted her right knee, accepting Darry’s leg between her own. “She’s not even said that I’m suitable for you. We might have a problem if she finds me lacking.”

“I promise, my love, that will never be an issue.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am, and aside from that, my Radha loves me. She’ll not say no.”

Darry lifted her head from the pillow and glanced toward the end of the bed. “She’s not in here now, is she? Using some Vhaelin trickery?”

Jessa laughed. “No.”

Darry flopped her head back down. They lay in silence for some time and Jessa saw how tired Darry was. She wished that she would sleep. Wished that she could take away the pain. “Will Hinsa come with us?” she asked. Darry’s eyes darkened and filled with tears. Jessa’s heart twisted and she bent over as a tear slid across the bridge of Darry’s nose. She kissed it away. “You must ask her.”

“A better life, Jess.” Darry spoke softly. “We shall find a better life.”

Jessa smiled and pulled closer. “You have already given me that, Akasha,” she said, and was happy despite the uncertainty of their position. “Let us find a life of freedom as well, yes? It is a full moon this night, a night of prophecy. ’Tis a good promise to make, yes?”

Darry nodded and kissed her again. “Yes…yes, that sounds right.”