Kailigh turned onto her side, wincing at the subtle ache in the small of her back, and stretched. She pulled the covers back over her head, continued to pretend it wasn’t morning for another five minutes, then sighed and threw off her cocoon, swinging her legs to the floor.

Glancing over, she froze. Two daughters slept in armchairs near the fireplace and Maddugh… he stood several feet away, an island in the middle of the room, arms crossed. Staring.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“Why are the three of you in my room?” She stood, a little surprised at how wobbly her legs felt, and shrugged it off. Last night had been… she blushed, and turned her mind away from those thoughts. They’d set a fast pace on the trek back to the castle once the rain let up…

Kailigh frowned. Why was she in bed? They’d left this morning, and… and…

“You’ve been asleep three days,” he said.

It was her turn to stare. The words made no sense. The girls stirred, Serephone’s eyes popping open with abrupt wakefulness. She surged to her feet.

“Mother!”

She knew her daughters, especially the nuances in their voice tones. “What’s going on?”

“I believe,” Maddugh said, “that your Dwyrkin nature has been triggered. To some extent.”

What? “You really think I’m not human, don’t you?”

“I know you aren’t all human.” His look was measured. “It was only ever a matter of how much of our blood is in your veins, and which particular strain. This… may make things more interesting.”

Kailigh glanced at her daughters. “Cin?”

“Asleep,” Persia said. “We made her stay in her room. She’s still tired. But better.”

Kai nodded. “All right. Everyone, get out. I need to bathe and dress and then we will talk. Girls—we also need to discuss what you will be spending your time doing forthwith. Lounging around the castle, idle, isn’t an option.”

The girls nodded and left. Maddugh hadn’t budged. “We need to talk, Kailigh.”

She crossed the room towards the wardrobe, opened it and drew out her selection for the day. Wide-legged trousers designed to look like skirts, in serviceable navy, a plain white blouse and brown vest with embroidery in festive red. She made a face when encountering a corset, and considered forgoing it for the day.

“We’ll talk after I’ve dressed,” she said, turning. Her stomach rumbled. “And eaten.”

He nodded. “I’ll order breakfast.”

* * *

Kailigh stared in the mirror, uneasy. She couldn’t quite decide if she was imagining things, or if she was just well rested after three days of sleep… or if the light in the castle was simply better than what she was used to.

Her fingers touched her face again. Subtle differences, so subtle she could just be reacting to nothing. But her skin felt smoother. And when she squinted, she didn’t see the faint beginnings of hairline wrinkles on her forehead. The signs of age she’d first noticed in her mid-thirties. She still was mistaken as Persia and Serephone’s sister—but an older sister.

Now… she looked barely a decade older.

Kailigh left the room, making her way to the dining hall. She’d dismissed the staff assigned to her the first day, preferring to find her way than have a Dwyrkin hovering over her. And the place was built along straight lines; it wasn’t difficult to point oneself in the right direction, and then just keep following the increasing scent of food.

Entering the breakfast room with its more informal round table and sideboard, she spotted Maddugh right away, sitting in a chair with, of all things, a newspaper.

She stared. They had newspapers in town. Runners dropped the periodicals off once a month, but paper was so precious these days. Women liked to keep up with the fashions and high society in the cities, and the men liked to pour over a month’s worth of scores for their favorite sports teams. The cities had luxuries like sports teams, and fashion blogs. Out here… the world was about survival and conditions existed that were more nineteenth century than twenty-third century.

Picking up a plate, she helped herself to eggs and sausages. Maddugh set aside the paper and rose, approaching the sideboard to select a glass and fill it with fruit juice. A luxury, especially orange juice. He set it next to her plate as she took a seat.

“I can see the questions on your face,” he said after she’d eaten in silence for several minutes.

She glanced at him, then shrugged. “You said my Dwyrkin blood is awakening. Because we had sex?”

His mouth quirked. “You aren’t concerned about your reputation? You speak so freely.”

Kailigh frowned, annoyed. “I’m a grown-ass woman, a divorcee with three children. I don’t give a flying fu—”

Maddugh winced. “I see. Quite a practical attitude, though among my people you would be considered young. A debutante.”

He chose that word just to irritate her. Kailigh ignored it. “So, answer the questions you think I have.”

“Woman, I can’t read your mind.”

She snorted. “Where is your kitchen garden?”

He blinked, and took a minute to respond. “Ah… I can take you there. What do you want with the gardens?”

“I need some me time. We can talk later.”

* * *

She wrapped her eggs and meat in bread and Maddugh led her out of the castle and around the side. His home wasn’t overly large, three stories and maybe the width of a half block. She assumed the size was because he had live-in staff; otherwise, it would be the height of ridiculousness. Even if he was the richest man living outside of a city.

The size of the kitchen garden surprised her. It was smaller than it should be to feed the tally of people she estimated lived here. And the plants were… sad.

Kailigh picked her way through rows of greens, finding a spot to kneel for a closer examination.

“Who’s in charge of maintaining this?” she asked.

“The kitchen manager, I believe.”

His voice came from several feet away, so he hadn’t followed her on her survey.

She ran her finger through the soil, reaching out with senses deeper than mere touch. There was a reason her produce sold for a premium, and they had to guard it with guns. Leaving the household gardens unattended grated on her. She’d have to return soon and finish the task of gathering what she could to make preserves for sale. Maybe she could transplant some of the plants here. They could use it.

Kailigh released a small trickle of her power, knowing from experience that if she wasn’t careful, land as poorly tended as this would suck her dry.

“Your people aren’t gardeners, are they?” she asked, more rhetorical than anything, while she worked.

Her heart rate and breathing sped up as if she was jogging, and she gritted her teeth. The land wanted to soak in her energy, greedily, and she struggled not to allow that. Before her eyes, the sad rows of greens subtly unfurled, as if infused with moisture and nutrients.

Footsteps behind her. “Kailigh, what are you doing?”

Maddugh’s voice was the sharpest she’d ever heard it, the lazy amused arrogance gone. A puff of hot air on the back of her neck.

“Slow your roll,” she muttered. “Helping, not hurting.”

She had to close off the tap now. Kailigh wrenched her hands out of the soil, knees aching, throat dry.

“Kailigh.”

“I’m fine,” she said, registering strong arms that wrapped around her middle, hauling her to her feet.

“I can taste the magic in the air, your hair is crackling with it.”

She didn’t understand the tight anger in his tone. Kailigh turned. “Are you upset I fixed your vegetables?” She had no energy to mask the annoyance in her own tone.

His eyes clashed with hers. “You aren’t trained.”

Kailigh laughed. “I’m trained. Feeding three hungry girls is training enough.” She yanked out of his arms. Or tried.

“You didn’t tell me you could do this.”

Ah. “That’s the real bugger, isn’t it? Well, you didn’t ask.”

His eyes closed. He stood that way for several minutes. Birds chirped around them, a gentle breeze caressing her cheek. She became hyper aware of the inhuman man holding her in his inescapable grip. Kailigh shifted.

His eyes snapped open. “You’d better not be armed.”

“Why are you angry, Maddugh?”

“All these years, you’ve been under my nose.” His voice softened to a gentle croon. “All these years. A woman with blood enough to make powered daughters—three—and possessing one of the crafts that left us when we were trapped here. I would make you my queen for that alone.”

She stiffened, hiding her internal shakiness. “Grow a man some vegetables, and he gets all emotional. Let me go, Maddugh.”

He smiled, his half crooked, half amused quirk of the lips. “It’s far too late for that, Lady. Will you wed, Kailigh? There is no other woman worthier than you.”

“Because I can breed and grow produce.”

“What’s more important to a race than its children, and its source of nutrition? Would you think more of me if I said we were to wed because you are beautiful?”

She scowled. She was no young girl. Let Cinvarra, Persia and Sere—well… Cinvarra and Persia—dream of love and courting. Her time for that was over.

Involuntarily, her hand rose, touched her own cheek. A cheek even smoother than a few days before. Energy flowed through her body, with vigor. Touched a womb not yet through the stage, marking her as past her prime of womanhood.

“What’s more valuable? Children, or growing food?”

His expression shifted, a canny calculating look sliding through his eyes. “Why?”

“Stop stalling.”

The Lord was silent for a moment. “The food. A woman will have children eventually—they all do.”

She didn’t bother to disabuse him of that notion.

“And my men are the best of them all, so I’ve no doubt eventually our daughters will choose from among them.”

She also ignored the ‘our daughters.’ “So, would you renegotiate our debt if I had additional information that would benefit you?”

He growled. Kailigh jumped, just a bit, cursing herself for even that small sign of weakness.

“Kailigh, don’t play games with me.” His eyes narrowed to slits, flashing golden.

“Will you renegotiate if I have additional information you would want to know?”

“What information?”

“Don’t you snap at me. And I’m not showing my cards until you agree to renegotiate.”

He stared down at her. “I could make you tell me, you know.”

She snorted. Neither his mild tone, nor his words, frightened her. That man wouldn’t lay a finger on her.

Maddugh released her, taking a step back, eyes narrowed. “You tell me what you are hiding, and wed me and have a child, and I will release our daughters from the bargain.” He smiled, pleasantly.

Kailigh folded her arms, considering. He likely assumed her daughters would wed among his men anyway, especially with an increase in rank and wealth should they become his stepchildren.

“You’ll dower them. Funding for a homestead or business venture. And they may marry or not—as they choose.”

“Done. Now tell me.”

Kailigh smiled. “I am not the only woman in my family who can make gardens grow.”

She hadn’t gone out of her way to keep it a secret—they’d just never told anyone. Both her and the girls knew the value of keeping one’s mouth shut, and after years of silence, their magic-enhanced green thumbs had become so second nature there was no reason to mention any more than to point out the color of their hair.

“That’s why you didn’t fight me when I told you that you were Dwyrkin,” Maddugh said.

She did appreciate that he kept his voice down—even though she could hear the grinding of his teeth. Interesting. Increased hearing, a skill that would come in handy, yes it would.

“What’s to fight?” she asked, also not mentioning Sere’s abilities. One card at a time. “Don’t change my life much, anyhow.” She paused, realizing that statement wasn’t exactly true.

He stared at her. “So, when is our wedding, my darling?”

“I can wash my best dinner dress out tomorrow.”

Kailigh kept her face straight as his expression iced over with magnificent affront. “I beg your pardon, mistress, but I’m almost certain your best dinner dress will not do.”

Maddugh turned on his heel and strode out of the garden. If he’d been a cat, he’d have been hissing, fur on end. Kailigh waited until he was gone then burst out in laughter.

“I hear you!” he shouted, his voice reaching her on the wind.

Very handy, evidently.