Heir to the Shadows

She will only sense the fear. Choose, High Lord, and live with what you choose." She looked at the closed door. "She is coming."
    Saetan tried to rise too quickly and winced. He'd overworked his bad leg again. Tugging down the sleeves of his tunic jacket and smoothing back his hair, he wished, futilely, that he'd bathed and changed into fresh clothes. He also wished, futilely, that his heart would stop pounding so hard.
    Then the door opened and Jaenelle stood on the threshold.
    In the seconds before rational thought fled, his mind registered her hesitation, her uncertainty. It also registered the amount of jewelry she was wearing.
    Lorn had gifted her with thirteen uncut Black Jewels. An uncut Jewel was large enough to be made into a pendant and a ring, as well as providing smaller chips that could be used for a variety of purposes. If he was estimating correctly, she'd taken the equivalent of six of those thirteen Jewels in with her when she made the Offering. Six Black Jewels that, somehow, had been transformed into more than Black.
    Into Ebony.
    No wonder it had taken her so long to make the descent to her full strength. He couldn't begin to estimate the power at her disposal now. Since the day he'd met her, he'd known it would come to this. She was traveling roads now the rest of them couldn't even imagine.
    What would it do to her?
    His choice.
    The thought shocked him with its clarity. It freed him to act.
    Stepping forward, he offered his right hand.
    Wild-shy, Jaenelle slipped into the room, hesitated a moment, then placed her hand in his.
    He pulled her into arms, burying his face against her neck. "I've been worried sick about you," he growled softly.
    Jaenelle stroked his back. "Why?" She sounded genuinely puzzled. "You've made the Offering. You know—"
    "It doesn't usually take three days!"
    "Three days!" She jerked back, stumbling into Lucivar, who had come up behind her. "Three days?"
    "Do we have to observe Protocol from now on?" Lucivar asked.
    "Don't be daft," Jaenelle snapped.
    Grinning, Lucivar immediately wrapped his left arm around her, pinning her arms to her sides and holding her tight against his chest. "In that case, I propose dunking her in the nearest fountain."
    "You can't do that!" Jaenelle sputtered, squirming.
    "Why not?" Lucivar sounded mildly curious.
    The reason she gave was inventive but anatomically impossible.
    Since laughing wouldn't be diplomatic, even if it was prompted by the relief that wearing Ebony Jewels hadn't changed her, Saetan clenched his teeth and stayed silent.
    Tersa, however, finally stirred herself and joined them. Shaking her head, she gave Jaenelle a poke in the shoulder. "There's no use wailing about it. You've taken up the responsibilities of a Queen now, and part of your duties is taking care of the males who belong to you."
    "Fine," Jaenelle snarled. "When do I get to pound him?"
    Tersa tsked. "They're males. They're allowed to fuss and pet." Then she smiled and patted Jaenelle's cheek. "Warlord Princes especially need physical contact with their Queen."
    "Oh," Jaenelle said sourly. "Well, that's just fine then."
    Tersa stretched out on the couch.
    "All right, grumpy little cat, you have a choice," Lucivar said.
    "Not one of your choices," Jaenelle groaned, sagging against him.
    "Does either of those choices include food and sleep?" Saetan asked.
    "And a bath?" Jaenelle added, wrinkling her nose.
    "One does," Lucivar said, releasing her.
    "Then I don't want to know what the other one is." Jaenelle rubbed her back. "Your belt buckle bites."
    "So do you."
    Saetan rubbed his temples. "Enough, children."
    Amazingly, they both stopped. Gold and sapphire eyes studied him for a moment before they left the room, arms about each other's waists.
    "You did well, Saetan," Tersa said quietly.
    Picking up a blanket draped over a chair, Saetan tucked it around Tersa and smoothed back her hair. "I had help," he replied, then laughed softly when she batted at his hand. "Males are allowed to fuss and pet, remember?"
    "I'm not a Queen."
    Saetan watched her until she fell asleep. "No, but you are a very gifted, very extraordinary Lady."
    3 / Kaeleer
    Telling himself he wasn't nervous, despite the pounding heart and sweaty palms, Saetan entered the large stone chamber that Draca had indicated was the place where the invited guests were to wait until they were summoned to the Dark Throne. Except for the blackwood pillars that contained the candle-lights and a few long tables