Shalador's Lady

mercy?
    Get it done. This isn’t about you and Kermilla, no matter what anyone else might think. This is about being a Queen.
    Sitting up, she called in the lap desk the High Lord had given her, selected a sheet of stationery with her initial on it, and began writing her letter to Sabrina.

    “Ranon!”
    Seeing Gray trotting toward him from the court’s stables, Ranon stopped at the edge of the street and waited. He’d walked from the northern landing web, wanting the time to contact his grandfather, who would contact Akeelah. For now, two Tradition Keepers were enough to stand witness to what he’d brought home.
    “Where’s Shira?” Ranon asked when Gray reached him.
    “She’s been home for a while. I had another errand to run and just got back.” Gray cocked a thumb over his shoulder toward the stables. “Four of the stable lads from Grayhaven are working at the stables here. Just started an hour ago. They’re taking one of the cottages across from the stables as their living quarters. And some of the other servants from Grayhaven are working at the Residence. Did Cassie say anything to you about this? Or Talon?”
    Ranon shook his head. “I just got back myself. Let’s find out—” He stopped when Gray gripped his arm. “What?”
    “I need to go away for a couple of days. Three at the most. I need you to come with me.”
    Ranon studied the other Warlord Prince. Something different. Of course, Gray seemed to be changing daily, but this blend of excitement, fear, and determination was new.
    “Where are we going?” Ranon asked.
    “To Dhemlan. In Kaeleer. To talk to Daemon Sadi.”
    A few months ago, Theran had been the one going in search of Daemon Sadi. Now it was Gray.
    “There are things we need, for the court and for this village. I have an idea of how we can start to get them. But I need to talk to Daemon, and there are some decisions I can’t make alone.”
    “Why me?”
    “You’re Shalador’s Warlord Prince.”
    The words rocked him. Yes, he was the last adult Warlord Prince until youngsters like his brother Janos came of age, but Gray’s phrasing gave a weight, a duty , to a truth he’d lived with for the past few years.
    “If Cassie gives her consent to this journey, I’ll go with you,” Ranon said.
    Gray huffed out a breath and smiled. “Good. So let’s find out what everyone else was up to today.”
    Plenty, Ranon thought when Dryden opened the door and greeted them.
    It looked like they were all going to have something to talk about that evening.

CHAPTER 17
    TERREILLE
    K ermilla frowned at the toast that was burnt around the edges. She tasted the eggs and made a face. As she pushed her plate away—and noticed Correne doing the same—Theran walked into the small breakfast room.
    That was unusual. She and Correne, the “Ladies of the court,” had breakfast alone, leaving the men to a working breakfast where they reviewed their assignments for the day and were allowed to be fools before they had to put on their manners.
    It might be unusual to see him in the breakfast room, but his timing was perfect.
    “Theran, what in the name of Hell is wrong with the cook today?” Kermilla complained. “The toast is burned, and these eggs are unacceptable. And the beef is . . . Well, I can hardly choke it down.”
    “I suggest you try,” Theran said in an odd voice. “The woman who was the cook’s assistant has a blind eye and a weak arm, courtesy of the last Queen she served. She’s doing the best she can.”
    “Why is she doing it at all?” Correne asked, sounding pouty.
    She was going to have to talk to the girl about when a good pout worked and when it caused nothing but trouble—and judging by the look in Theran’s eyes, being anything but helpful today was going to cause trouble.
    Ignoring Correne, Theran watched Kermilla. “The cook, the housekeeper, and the butler resigned yesterday.”
    She heard a hint of accusation in his voice. “Because I had to discipline Birdie?”
    Theran’s face tightened. “You call it discipline. You said it was necessary, and I’m sure you wouldn’t have struck the girl without good reason. But Dryden called it abuse, said it was the same kind of treatment the purged Queens used to inflict on servants—and the kind of treatment I had promised him no one would endure in this house. So the senior servants resigned, along with four of the stable lads. It may take a while before I can replace them.” He glanced at Correne.