Twilight's Dawn

a little more, showing more cleavage—and watched the way his eyes lingered a moment too long.
    “You finished your training and were no longer in Yaslana’s shadow because he defied Prythian and ended up a slave being controlled by a Ring of Obedience, while you ended up an aristo male moving in court circles, serving a bitch you hated, but you were always careful not to step too close to a line that might be seen as a challenge. And there was Lucivar, who, despite being a slave, was always crossing those lines and growing into the most lethal and feared warrior in the Realm of Terreille.”
    She felt pressure on her first inner barrier. Not an actual attempt to force open the first level of her mind, more like someone leaning against a door to push it open just a crack and find out what was on the other side while claiming that he didn’t do anything.
    A man could find out a lot of useful information while not doing anything. And maybe— maybe —because it was a passive move, it wouldn’t be considered a breach of the Blood’s code of honor.
    She usually wore her Birthright Green Jewels, just like today, but she no longer hid the fact that the Gray was her Jewel of rank. Had he forgotten that? Was he actually hoping that she’d be lax about maintaining the barriers that protected her mind from the rest of the Blood? Was he that much of a fool?
    “Skipping a few centuries, the Realm of Terreille becomes a very bad place, and people are scrambling to get away from the bitches who rule there,” she continued. “Among those people is an Eyrien Warlord Prince who comes from an aristo family and has significant social standing. And wearing Sapphire Jewels means he is a powerful, dominant male—a leader other men obey without question. No reason to think that will change. Aristo is aristo; power is power.”
    She drifted down into the abyss until she reached the level of the Gray, then drifted back up until she was under him. She reached up with one delicate psychic tendril to get the honest flavor of his emotions.
    She didn’t like the taste of those emotions. She didn’t like them at all. Apparently the story she was weaving around the little she knew and the lot she guessed based on knowing the two men was close to the truth.
    “And what happens?” she said. “You come to Kaeleer with your credentials polished, expecting the Queens to fight over who gets the privilege of having you in her court, and there’s your old friend Lucivar, already here before you. And he’s not only serving the Queen the rest of you would give your balls to serve; he’s the ruler of the most prized bit of land in Askavi. Not only that, he’s no longer a half-breed bastard the rest of you can ignore. He comes from the most aristo family in the whole damn Realm. His father and uncle are the most powerful men in the whole damn Realm, not to mention being Witch’s Steward and Master of the Guard, which gives them even more status.”
    “Just because they acknowledged him doesn’t mean he actually carries the bloodlines,” Falonar snapped.
    “Blood sings to blood—and blood doesn’t lie. Sure, there are generations between Lucivar and Andulvar, but he is the High Lord’s son, and his mother did come from Andulvar’s line. An aristo among aristos. And he still doesn’t give a damn about any of that, does he? He’s just who he’s always been—a warrior, a leader, a strong man. Except now all the Eyriens who would have spit on him before have to walk softly because one word from him— one word —and that person gets tossed all the way back to Terreille. If the fool isn’t killed first.”
    “What does any of this have to do with him gutting Eyrien culture and tradition?” Falonar shouted.
    “What goes on in Ebon Rih is his version of Eyrien culture and tradition,” she replied sweetly.
    “His version ?” Falonar paced away from the bar and back. “You can’t have different versions and have the same people!”
    “Maybe that’s the point. Maybe there needs to be a different version for the people who would otherwise be excluded from Eyrien culture.”
    “Like who?”
    “Besides Lucivar? How about Endar and Dorian’s little girl? A Queen. But her hair has curl. Not only is she not pure Eyrien; that curl proves she has a bit of a bloodline that isn’t from any of the long-lived races. What about Tamnar? He wouldn’t have had much of a future among your people, which is probably why he risked the