Twilight's Dawn

choose his own company.” But it wouldn’t hurt to remind the young Warlord that being given that much independence didn’t mean the family patriarch wasn’t aware of all of his activities.
    “The theater group he belongs to is performing a play in Riada next month. We’re looking forward to seeing him.”
    And Uncle Lucivar will keep an eye on him while Beron is in Ebon Rih , Daemon thought, working to hide a smile.
    “You want more coffee?” Lucivar asked. “I’ll make another pot.”
    “Sure. Where is Marian?”
    “Sleeping in.”
    Something in the tone, in the way Lucivar moved around the kitchen. “Is she all right?”
    “Just slow coming back from this birthing. It’s taking longer for her to regain her strength and energy. She’ll be fine.”
    “But . . . ?” Daemon asked gently.
    Lucivar filled the coffeepot and put it on the stove to heat before replying. “Nurian is an excellent Healer, and I trust what she says. But I wish Jaenelle Angelline was still here to tell me Marian will be fine. I’d feel a lot easier if she was still here to tell me that.”

    Daemon walked into his study and found Surreal waiting for him, comfortably settled on the long leather sofa. She had a book in her lap and a crossbow aimed at his groin.
    “Is that necessary?” he asked politely.
    “You tell me.” Her tone was a few steps short of polite.
    He slipped his hands in his trousers pockets and waited. When Surreal began a discussion by pointing a weapon at a man, it was wise to yield as much as possible.
    “I upset Jaenelle.” The crossbow didn’t waver, so he considered the other half of his offense. “And I left you to deal with it without giving you any idea of what you were facing.”
    “Which is something you won’t do again. Agreed?”
    Was there a choice? “Agreed.”
    Surreal vanished the crossbow, then shifted so that he could sit beside her.
    “Jaenelle Saetien is very sorry that she forgot to tell you about Uncle Lucivar’s new rules—which you will explain to me in detail by the end of the day,” she said. “A new friend showed up early this morning, and she needed to tell you about him before she totally broke the rules instead of just bending the rules by waiting for you to wake up before she told you about her new friend, since he was in her room, but you didn’t wake up, which is why she woke you, but then she mentioned the boy parts, which Uncle Lucivar had also told her to tell you about, and before she could explain, you cat-puffed, kicked her out of the room, and left to yell at Lucivar.”
    “I what? Cat-puffed? What in the name of Hell is that?”
    “I’m guessing it’s what a pissed-off feline does.”
    “Well, that makes me sound scary.”
    “No, it makes you sound like a rolly ball of fur. Regardless ...” Surreal grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him closer. “I’ll give you a choice. You can go up there and settle things with your daughter and her new friends, or you can take the second part of the discussion about why boy parts wiggle.”
    He felt all the blood drain out of his head. “Why would there be a second part if the two of you already discussed this?”
    “Because with Jaenelle Saetien, there is always a second part to a discussion.”
    That was a frightening truth. “All right. I’ll meet these new friends.”
    “One of them is in her room. The other is in the stables.”
    “I take it these new friends have boy parts?”
    Surreal released his shirt and leaned back. “Trust me, Sadi. Their boy parts are the least of your problems.”

    Once Daemon was on his way to meet his daughter’s new friends, Surreal breathed out a shuddery sigh. No sign or scent of blood or wounds, so it wasn’t likely that he and Lucivar had done more than yell at each other.
    If it had been anyone other than Lucivar, even if the man’s actions had been innocent or unintentional . . .
    Sadi hadn’t looked like a man who had shattered the family by maiming or killing his brother. No, her sense of him when he’d walked into the study was that of a man who knew it would take some work to clean up the emotional mess he’d left behind when he’d thundered out of the Hall.
    She called in her favorite stiletto and studied its edge.
    She’d been twelve when she was raped, but the man hadn’t been strong enough to take more than her virginity. She’d come away from that bed with her Birthright Green Jewels and her power still intact.
    Jaenelle Angelline had