The Shadow Queen

slate to begin his rule. But it looks like I have some unfinished business after all.”

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    CHAPTER 24
    TERREILLE
    S everal days after the dinner party at the Keep,Theran walked into Powell’s office so soon after breakfast, the Steward wasn’t settled behind his desk yet.
    “Did the letter arrive?” he asked.
    “The messenger just returned from the Keep with the sack,” Powell replied. “I haven’t even opened it yet.”
    “Well, get on with it.”
    Before Powell could say what he looked like he wanted to say, Ranon and Shira walked into the office, with Archerr following right behind them.
    “Did the letter arrive?” Ranon asked.
    “Hell’s fire,” Powell muttered. “The last time this many men were interested in a single letter, it was because all the young men in my village were waiting to see who the prettiest girl had asked to be her escort to the harvest dance.”
    “It’s been enough time,” Theran muttered. “How long can it take to write down the names of a few plants?”
    Shira rolled her eyes. “Men are so dim about some things. The more it matters, the more time it takes.”
    Theran gave Ranon a sharp smile. “So what’s Ranon hurrying that he shouldn’t be?”
    Ranon snarled at Theran.
    “I wasn’t talking about him ,” Shira said.
    “If anyone is interested,” Powell said, “Lady Cassidy has two letters here—no, three. And there’s a box for Gray. Looks like Prince Sadi’s writing on the label, and that’s definitely the SaDiablo seal.”
    “Damn,” Theran and Ranon said.
    Theran sighed, then raked his fingers through his dark hair. “Give it to me. I’ll take it out to Gray.” And try to figure out what to say today when that look of disappointment fills his eyes.
    Powell handed over the box.
    Breakfast felt like a cold, heavy lump in Theran’s stomach, and it got heavier and colder with every step he took toward the ground Gray was breaking for this new planting.
    He’s working too hard, hoping for too much, Theran thought. These past few days, he had the feeling that Gray had made a blind leap and had broken the life he’d cobbled together, but wasn’t sure of what kind of life he would have in its place. What kind of life he could build.
    If he could build anything at all.
    “Gray?”
    Gray set aside the spade and reached for the water jug. He glanced at the box Theran carried, but he didn’t ask about it. He drank, then pulled a scrap of towel out of the waistband of his trousers and wiped his face.
    “No letter,” he said.
    There was a flatness in Gray’s voice, a lack of light in his eyes, that worried Theran.
    “No letter,” Theran said. “But this box came from Prince Sadi. Gray, it hasn’t been that long since you sent the letter.”
    “Long enough for a mother to decide that she doesn’t want a particular man showing interest in her daughter.”
    Mother Night, Gray, what are you thinking?
    The hurt in Gray’s voice made it clear exactly what his cousin was thinking: he wasn’t good enough to be more than a friend.
    “Open the box,” Theran said. “Maybe there’s an explanation.”
    Gray wiped his hands on his trousers to clean off some of the dirt. Then he took the box and set it on the freshly turned earth, which made Theran wonder why he’d bothered to wipe off his hands.
    The box had a simple hook closure, so whatever was inside couldn’t be valuable. Or it meant that no one would be foolish enough to take anything from a box that had the SaDiablo seal.
    Gray opened the box. He sat back on his heels. He lifted one Craft-preserved flower out of the box. Then another—and another until he was holding a bouquet.
    “There’s a note and a book in there,” Theran said, looking into the box. “And something else.”
    Handing the bouquet to Theran, Gray opened the note.
    “ ‘Prince Gray,’ ” Gray read.
“A common-ground planting is a wonderful idea. The seeds I gave Cassie were meant to span the seasons, so there aren’t many yet that I can show you. I’ve sent flowers from the late-spring and early-summer plants, but hopefully you’ll be able to match the others from the sketches in the book. The bulbs can go in pots. Those, too, span the seasons—a reminder of family as she makes a new home. Burle spoke highly of you. I’m beginning to see why. I hope we can meet one day. Devra.”
Gray set aside the note, picked up the book, and riffled the pages. “Plants from Dharo. There are drawings and information about planting, and . . .” He closed the book and studied the cover. “Cassie’s mother wrote