Twilight's Dawn

because that’s what they want to do.”
    When it was put that way, he wondered how many of the Eyrien women had been waiting to be safely cut loose in order to try out their own ambitions.
    “After my chat with Rainier, I’ll come back to the Keep and be available if you need any help.”
    “Thanks.” Lucivar blew out a breath. “Guess I’d best get on with it.”
    “Good luck, Prick.”
    Leaving the Keep, Lucivar flew to the communal eyrie. He’d spent the past couple of days looking at the Eyrien camps or, in the case of the women, the settlement tucked low in the mountains near Doun. He’d looked every man in the eye as he would if he was deciding if a man was an ally or an adversary. The women were harder, because most weren’t easy around men, but he’d gotten a sense of them too. There were some men he hoped would stay—and some he would encourage to leave Ebon Rih and go all the way back to Terreille.

    Rainier studied the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan and wished he had some idea what Daemon wanted to discuss.
    Not much use to him, am I?
    Daemon had been paying for his living expenses since the night he’d been injured. But he couldn’t expect Sadi to carry him forever. Didn’t want to be supported forever. He just didn’t know yet what he could do to earn a living.
    “Lucivar says the leg is healing,” Daemon said. “That’s good.”
    “I guess it took me a while to understand some things.” That pity can be as crippling as a physical wound, for one thing. And after being shown what he had survived, I understand why no one gets pity from Lucivar.
    “And now that you understand those things, you’re ready to work on healing?”
    “Yes.”
    “What about other kinds of work?”
    “I haven’t been useful lately,” he admitted.
    Daemon raised one eyebrow. “Oh? Lucivar found your assistance very useful. There is more than one kind of dancing, Rainier. You learned some of those other steps while working with the coven and the High Lord. Now I’d like you to consider using those skills for me.”
    “Meaning?”
    “I need a secretary, someone I can trust with private matters.”
    Anger flashed through Rainier. “You’re offering me pity work?”
    “In that Lord Marcus asked me to take pity on him and hire a secretary, yes. You’re an Opal-Jeweled Warlord Prince. That alone gives you weight when dealing with much of the Blood—enough weight to act as my representative at the SaDiablo estates or the minor Dhemlan courts in much the same way that Mephis represented my father. It would be helpful to have you staying at the Hall or in Halaway a couple of days a week to help with the paperwork there, but otherwise you could reside in Amdarh, either at the family town house or in your own apartment—although I would prefer that you work out of the study in the town house.”
    “May I think about it?”
    “Yes, but I’d like an answer soon. I am going to oblige Marcus and get a secretary. If not you, then someone else.”
    Rainier studied Daemon, who looked as sleek and elegant as usual, but also a little uncomfortable.
    “So you’re doing this because Marcus asked you?”
    A hesitation that was too long for Sadi. “I owe him. He took a Sceltie puppy home for Winsol.”
    “Mother Night. Couldn’t he sidestep taking the pup?”
    “Not after I tied a pretty ribbon around the puppy’s neck and gave her to Marcus’s daughter to play with while he and I took care of some last-minute business.”
    When Rainier finally stopped laughing, he agreed to take the job. He wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to do, but he was damn sure his days would be interesting.

    Lucivar watched the Eyriens as they entered the big front room of the communal eyrie. Hallevar and Kohlvar entered first, followed by Rothvar, Zaranar, Tamnar, and Endar. He’d excused Endar’s wife from this meeting, asking her to help Jillian look after the children who had been left at Nurian’s eyrie. After all, she’d hear about this from her husband soon enough.
    He picked up a sense of puzzlement in Hallevar and his companions, especially after Eyriens from the northern camps walked in, but there was no wariness in the men he worked with the most, no worry that he’d found out about some less-than-honorable activity.
    Falonar came in with Nurian. He was full of hot impatience and likely pissed off because he knew no more than the others about why this meeting had been called, despite being Lucivar’s