The Invisible Ring

look through her healing herbs, he knew several brews that would help ease Thera’s discomfort.
    The Sadist had taught him every one of them.
    At the time, it had amazed him that a man who was a master at emotional cruelty was so well versed at easing a woman’s physical discomfort. On the other hand, he never saw Daemon give one of those brews to the Queen who controlled them or the aristo witches in her First Circle. Those brews found their way to the female servants’ living quarters and the women who would get no other pampering.
    Brock met him at the door when he returned to the stone building.
    “Problem?” Brock asked quietly.
    “Thera’s feeling a little bitchy,” Jared replied, wondering if men from other Territories used that phrase in the same way.
    Brock’s shoulders relaxed. “Ah. Well, we can give her breathing room and keep the pups from pestering her. What about the Gray Lady?”
    Jared shrugged and lied to himself that he didn’t feel concerned. “She might have a stomach chill or something.”
    Blaed and Thayne both had more skill at a stove than he’d suspected, and a few minutes later he and Tomas were carrying full plates and cups of hot water to the wagon. Keeping his distance so that he wouldn’t upset Thera, he set a plate and cup next to each of them and retreated after mentioning the availability of the hipbath.
    After breakfast, while the Gray Lady and Thera took the opportunity to bathe, Jared opened the wagon’s door and shutters to freshen the air inside. Tomas swept the narrow bit of floor with a broom he’d found in a cupboard in the stone building. Jared shook out the blankets. Together, they made a cozy nest on each of the benches. Jared put a warming spell on the blankets, which would keep the women comfortable but wouldn’t be as noticeable as warming the inside of the wagon.
    “There,” Tomas said, smoothing out a wrinkle in a blanket. “They’ll be feeling better in next to no time.”
    Jared just smiled and said nothing. Tomas was a clever boy, and since he obviously knew what a woman’s moon-time was—who wouldn’t after a few days in Polli’s company?—he’d figure it out fast enough.
    By the time the Gray Lady and Thera were tucked into the wagon as comfortably as possible, the sun had been up a couple of hours—not that anyone complained about getting a later start than usual.
    After giving the order for them to move on, Jared waited until everyone else had reached the lane before stepping between the stone posts. He and Brock had already double-checked the buildings to be sure everything was just as they’d found it. The rest of the fresh food that had been left for them was now in a cool-spelled box in the wagon. There was nothing . . .
    The chipped blue jug had been empty when he’d gone back to make the last check. Rinsed out and empty.
    When he’d checked outside the buildings, there had been no sign of a bouquet of flowers tossed aside.
    It didn’t bother him that she’d taken that Sapphire-Jeweled bastard’s flowers with her. Not at all. It was simply annoyance with himself that he hadn’t thought of that ploy to gain favor with her. It was a natural response, an instinctive rivalry. A favored male was always granted special privileges. He needed that leniency more than a stranger who wasn’t even around. It wasn’t like the rogue would have any sexual interest in a woman old enough to be his mother—Hell’s fire, his grandmother. He certainly didn’t have any interest. Not really. After all those years as a pleasure slave, his body was confused and just reacted to anything female. The fact that he didn’t respond that way to Thera and sometimes wanted to kiss the Gray Lady until her bones melted didn’t mean anything.
    So it didn’t mean a thing to him that she had taken that bastard’s flowers with her because he was not jealous.
    Damn.
    Jared closed his eyes and shook his head. He’d gone about dealing with the Gray Lady all wrong. He should have remembered that she liked balls and sass, would probably have been more responsive to a male companion who made an effort to be charming. So from now on, he’d be charming even if it choked him. He used to be able to charm women. How many times had he coaxed Reyna into letting him have an extra nutcake? A boy who could charm his mother into spoiling his appetite for dinner should be able to grow up into a man who could wrap an elderly Queen around his little finger—especially when that man had received a year of intense,