Heir to the Shadows

care. "But that doesn't explain why he's in the Twisted Kingdom, does it, High Lord?" She took a step closer to him. "That doesn't explain why you left him there."
    "I didn't know he was in the Twisted Kingdom until—" Saetan clamped his teeth to hold the words back.
    "Until Lucivar came to Kaeleer," Jaenelle finished for him. She waved a hand dismissively before he could speak. "Lucivar was in the salt mines of Pruul. I know there was nothing he could do. But you."
    Saetan spaced out the words. "Getting you back was the
    first requirement. I gave my strength to that task. Daemon would have understood that, would have demanded it."
    "I came back two years ago, and there's nothing draining your strength now." Pain and betrayal filled her eyes. "But you didn't even try to reach him, did you?"
    "Yes, I tried! DAMN YOU, I TRIED!" He sagged against the desk. "Stop acting like a petty little bitch. He may be your friend, but he's also my son. Do you really think I wouldn't try to help him?" The bitter failure filled him again. "I was so close, witch-child. So close. But he was just out of reach. And he didn't trust me. If he would have tried a little, I would have had him. I could have shown him the way out of the Twisted Kingdom. But he didn't trust me."
    The silence stretched.
    "I'm going to get him back," Jaenelle said quietly.
    Saetan straightened up. "You can't go back to Terreille."
    "Don't tell me what I can or can't do," Jaenelle snarled.
    "Listen to me, Jaenelle," he said urgently. "You can't go back to Terreille. As soon as she realized you were there, Dorothea would do everything she could to contain you or destroy you. And you're still not of age. Your Chaillot relatives could try to regain custody."
    "I'll take that chance. I'm not leaving him to suffer." She turned to leave the room.
    Saetan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Since I'm his father, I can reach him without needing physical contact."
    "But he doesn't trust you."
    "I can help you, Jaenelle."
    She turned back to look at him, and he saw a stranger.
    "I don't want your help, High Lord," she said quietly.
    Then she walked away from him, and he knew she was doing a great deal more than simply walking out of a room.
    Everything has a price.
    Lucivar found her in the gardens a couple of hours later" sitting on a stone bench with her hands pressed between her knees hard enough to bruise. Straddling the bench, he
    sat as close as he could without touching her. "Cat?" he said softly, afraid that even sound would shatter her. "Talk to me. Please."
    "I_" She shuddered.
    "You remember."
    "I remember." She let out a laugh full of knife-sharp edges. "I remember all of it. Marjane, Dannie, Rose. Briarwood. Greer. All of it." She glanced at him. "You've known about Briarwood. And Greer."
    Lucivar brushed a lock of hair away from his face. Maybe he should get it cut short, the way Eyrien warriors usually wore it. "Sometimes when you have bad dreams you talk in your sleep."
    "So you've both known. And said nothing."
    "What could we have said, Cat?" Lucivar asked slowly. "If we had forced someone else to remember something that emotionally scarring, you would have thrown a fit—as well as a few pieces of furniture."
    Jaenelle's lips curved in a ghost of a smile. "True." Her smile faded. "Do you know the worst thing about it? I forgot him. Daemon was a friend, and I forgot him. That Winsol, before I was ... he gave me a silver bracelet. I don't know what happened to it. I had a picture of him. I don't know what happened to that either. And then he gave everything he had to help me, and when it was done, everyone walked away from him as if he didn't matter."
    "If you had remembered the rape when you first came back, would you have stayed? Or would you have fled from your body again?"
    "I don't know."
    "Then if forgetting Daemon was the price that had to be paid in order to keep those memories at bay until you were strong enough to face them. ... He would say it was a fair price."
    "It's very easy to make statements about what Daemon would say since he's not here to deny them, isn't it?" Tears filled her eyes.
    "You're forgetting something, little witch," Lucivar said
    sharply. "He's my brother, and he's a Warlord Prince. I've known him longer and far better than you."
    Jaenelle shifted on the bench. "I don't blame you for what happened to him. The High Lord—"
    "If you're going to demand that the High Lord shoulder the blame for Daemon being in the Twisted