Shalador's Lady

Ranon said coldly. “I’m thirty. We’re both too old to indulge in a pissing contest over porridge.”
    Theran jerked back as if he’d been slapped. Then, snarling, he took a step forward.
    Using Craft to vanish the hourglass and flute, Ranon instinctively took a step to the side to give himself more room to maneuver.
    He wore an Opal Jewel; Theran wore Green. They were both Warlord Princes, aggressive predators born to stand on the killing fields. If they unleashed their psychic strength against each other, they could destroy the Grayhaven mansion and kill many of the people living here before anyone else knew there was danger. Even without using the power that made the Blood who and what they were, they could cause a lot of harm to each other with just muscle and temper.
    But if either of them was damaged so badly he couldn’t serve, the court would break, and Ranon’s hope for the Shalador people would break with it.
    Remembering that, he backed away from the fight, indicating with a subtle shift of his body that Theran was the dominant male. Which was true, as far as the Jewels were concerned. But only as far as the Jewels were concerned. And that, too, Ranon conveyed with that subtle shift.
    Fury flashed in Theran’s green eyes. Instead of accepting that Ranon had yielded, he took another step forward. Then . . .
    *Theran? Theran!*
    Saved by a Sceltie, Ranon thought as he watched Theran’s hasty retreat into the mansion moments before the small brown-and-white dog bounded up the terrace’s steps.
    “Good morning, Lady Vae,” Ranon said with more courtesy than was required.
    The little bitch growled at him.
    Glancing at the Purple Dusk Jewel half hidden in her fur, Ranon offered no challenge. Vae was kindred—the name given to the Blood who were not human—and he’d seen her pull down a full-grown man in a fight. His caste outranked hers, since she was only a witch, and his Jewels outranked hers. On the other hand, she had speed, strong jaws, and sharp teeth.
    *You are not usually so foolish as other human males, so I will not nip you this time,* Vae said.
    “Thank you, Lady. I appreciate that.”
    He also appreciated the implied threat that the next offense would earn him more than a nip.
    Vae trotted into the mansion, no doubt intending to administer her own brand of justice on the other foolish male.
    Ranon sighed. He’d come close to spoiling something that was as delicate as the honey pear seedlings growing in their pots.
    Give her the best you have, Ranon, the Shalador Queens had told him when they left yesterday evening. Show her that Shalador’s heart and honor are worthy of such a Queen.
    Cassidy was a Rose-Jeweled Queen from Dharo. A tall, gawky woman with red hair and freckles, she was nothing like the image of the beautiful, powerful Queen that Theran had painted when he’d told the surviving Warlord Princes about his plan to save Dena Nehele.
    But when Ranon saw her that first day, he had felt the bond between Warlord Prince and Queen grab hold of his heart and gut, had felt the right-ness of handing over his life to her will. In the few weeks since her arrival, she had shown herself worthy of that trust, and in the wake of all she had done in the past week—fighting against a Warlord and his two grown sons to defend a landen family, as well as discovering the treasure that had been hidden on the Grayhaven estate—even the Warlord Princes who had been disappointed when they had first seen her were reassessing the Queen behind the long, plain face.
    He didn’t like Theran. He never would. But because he was grateful for Cassidy’s presence—and because he knew how he would have felt if he’d been required to serve a Queen he didn’t believe in—he would do what he could to keep peace between himself and Theran.
    And to bring back a little of the peace that had been spoiled, he called in his flute and played a while longer.

    Theran paused in the dining room doorway and took a moment to watch the people around the table. Despite their commitment to serve, the men who made up the First Circle of Cassidy’s court had been wary of her. They had seen too much brutality done at the command of the twisted Queens who had ruled here. And no matter what they said, he knew they had been disappointed in their Queen’s lack of beauty and power.
    Then Cassidy found the treasure that had been hidden by Lia and Thera, the Black Widow who had been Lia’s closest friend. Not only did that