The Shadow Queen

“Tell me what?”



“The Jewels a Queen wears are not the only kind of power she wields. You should know that well enough. How many of the Queens you endured over these past few decades would have ruled at all if they hadn’t been backed by that bitch Dorothea SaDiablo?”



“None,” Talon said bitterly. “What’s that got to do with the here and now?”



“Connections, Prince. You looked at Cassidy’s Jewels and forgot to consider the connections.”



“What connections?”



“Do you know why Cassidy is here?” Lucivar asked.



“Because Sadi’s wife is a friend of hers, and Theran’s choice was to take Cassidy or walk away without a Queen,” Talon snapped, frustrated enough to be imprudent.



“Sadi’s wife.”



“A Queen who doesn’t seem able to form a court of her own, even with Sadi’s backing.”



The room suddenly turned cold enough to bite.



“Your boy left out a few things,” Lucivar said too softly. “Because of that, I’ll overlook your lack of courtesy. This time. Since Grayhaven has chosen to leave out a few details—or didn’t care enough to ask—you would do well to ask Cassidy a few questions. Like who really sent her to Dena Nehele.”



The cold was turning his muscles to stone. He wouldn’t be able to move fast enough to avoid an attack. Wouldn’t survive an attack even if he could move.



Killing field. Battlefield. Didn’t matter. Any man who fought knew that no one on the opposing side survived when Yaslana stepped into a fight.



“I’ll be back, Talon,” Lucivar said as he turned toward the door. “You can count on it. And the next time I won’t be as forgiving. You can count on that too.”



Lucivar opened the door, then stopped and looked back. “The Warlord Prince Gray.”



Talon swallowed hard. Mother Night! How would a defense-less boy like Gray handle crossing paths with something like Yaslana? “What about him?”



“How old was he when he was tortured?”



Talon rocked back on his heels, not sure what to think. “How did you know?”



Lucivar snorted. “I’ve lived seventeen hundred years. I’ve seen a lot of courts and a lot of men during that time. I know the look, and I know the feel, of a man who’s been tortured.”



“Fifteen,” Talon said. “He was fifteen years old and the most promising Warlord Prince to come along in a couple generations or more. Not as good with weapons as Theran, but stronger in other ways. He could have been stronger.” He sighed, feeling the old regrets. “Wasn’t much left of that promising boy two years later when I finally found him and got him away from the bitch.”



Lucivar just looked at him for a long time. “Ask the questions, Prince,” he said softly. “Ask the questions before it’s too late.”



Talon waited until Lucivar left the room before he drained the second glass of yarbarah. Then he corked the bottle and put a cooling spell on it. He wanted more, needed more blood, since he’d resisted asking for any—or demanding any—from the Warlord Princes in the court since the night Cassidy had freely given her blood.



“Too many warnings and not enough information,” Talon growled.



When he opened the door, he found Ranon on the other side.



“I came to tell you the Eyrien is gone,” Ranon said.



“In here,” Talon snapped.



Ranon came into the room, wary.



“What in the name of Hell happened today?”



“I don’t know,” Ranon said.



“You have no idea how much trouble we’re in, so don’t be playing games with me.”



“I don’t know!”



Frustration. Worry. Ranon wasn’t trying to hide those things.



“Then tell me what you do know.”



“I respectfully refuse to give you a shovel. Or a hoe. Or a rake. Or any of the tools. I Craft-locked the shed.”



Cassidy slanted a look at Gray, who had crept up to the flower bed and now stood a long step away from her.



Her hands throbbed whenever she lowered them. Her arms ached when she held her hands up. She shouldn’t even be out there. She should be in her room, resting. She’d slept for a little while after Shira finished the healing and helped her to her suite, but she didn’t feel easy about being inside the house. At least out here, there was the illusion of comfort.



Then the phrasing Gray used sank in and had her looking at him more closely—and had her eyeing the book he clutched to his chest like a shield.



“Is that one of the books of Protocol I brought?”



Gray nodded. “If I’d studied the book before, I could have stopped you from getting hurt.”



“I told you to stay away,” Cassidy said. “You obeyed my orders.”



“The first law is not obedience. Lucivar said so.”



Thank you very much, Lucivar. Even if he was an adult, Gray was still an impressionable young man, and LucivarYaslana could certainly leave an impression.



“How much time did you spend with Lucivar?” Cassidy asked.



“Not long.”



Long enough. There was a look in Gray’s eyes that hadn’t been there yesterday.



“You can swear at me if you want,” Gray said with complete sincerity. “You can swear at me because I won’t let you have any tools.”



For the first time, Cassidy appreciated the lessons in maintaining a dignified expression and a steady voice.



“Thank you, Gray, but I don’t feel like swearing right now. I’ll take you up on that offer another time.”



“Okay.” He sidled up until he was standing right next to her. Until his shoulder brushed against hers.



Not wanting to wonder why he was standing that close, she stared at the flower bed. And frowned.



“You cleaned it up, didn’t you?” she asked.



He nodded. “You kept digging them up, but you stopped tossing the weeds out. Stopped picking up the rocks and tossing them out too.” He paused, then added softly,“Some of the rocks have your blood smeared on them.”



She felt sick. She hadn’t noticed the blood.



“So,” Gray said, giving her a light nudge as he pointed to the boulder she’d been digging around when Lucivar hauled her out of the garden. “What do you think? Should the rock stay, or should it go?”



Talon walked toward the back of the garden as fast as his limping gait allowed.



Connections. Yes, he knew about connections. But he hadn’t read the signs right this time. Hadn’t made the effort he should have over these past few days to find out more about the Queen who now ruled Dena Nehele. He had been disappointed by Cassidy’s lack of strength, hadn’t questioned Theran’s unhappiness that the one favor he could use hadn’t netted something better.



Until today, he’d thought the connection had been between Sadi and Theran, because of Jared. Now he understood: Jared’s bloodline had gotten Theran an audience and nothing more. The only reason they had a Queen at all was Cassidy’s connection to Sadi and Yaslana.



And he’d damn well better find out why two of the darkest-Jeweled males in the history of the Blood were taking such a keen interest in a Rose-Jeweled Queen they didn’t serve.



Gray noticed him first, and even in the dusky light,Talon saw the queer look in the boy’s eyes. In another Warlord Prince, he would have called that look a challenge. Then it was gone, and he pushed aside the thought.



“Lady,” Talon said.



“Prince Talon,” Cassidy replied.



“Gray, you should go on and get some supper,” Talon said.



Gray didn’t move.



“That was Prince Talon’s subtle way of telling you he wants to talk to me alone,” Cassidy said.



“Do you want to talk to him?” Gray asked.



Talon felt as if he’d stepped on ice but didn’t quite lose his footing.



What in the name of Hell happened to Gray today?



“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Cassidy said, nudging Gray with an elbow. “I should go back inside beforeVae comes out to find me.”



“You’ll wear your hat tomorrow,” Gray said.



“I’ll wear my hat.”



“You won’t pick up tools.”



“I won’t pick up tools.”



“You’ll—”



“Gray.”



“Are you going to swear at me?”



“I’m thinking about it.”



Gray grinned, nothing more than a boy again. Then he headed for the stables, where the men would have some food for him.



Alone with her, Talon wondered how to ask the questions that needed asking.



It’s been a long time since I’ve been around a Queen. Maybe too long.



“I heard there was some trouble today,” Talon said, looking at her hands. They were bandaged so thickly he wondered if she had any use of them.



Cassidy shrugged and stared at the dug-up flower bed she could barely see.



“Are your hands going to be all right?” Talon asked.



“Yes,” Cassidy replied. “Shira says I didn’t do any permanent damage. I’ll just have to be careful for a while because they’ll be tender.”



Talon nodded. “You want to tell me what happened?”



“No.”



He tapped a finger against his chest. “Master of the Guard, remember?”



“It’s . . . personal.”



Personal. Theran wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t have gone up to her room last night without an invitation. Would he?



“Did Theran . . . ?” He looked away. He didn’t want to say the words, but he couldn’t dismiss the depth of Yaslana’s fury—especially when that fury seemed mostly aimed at Theran. “Did he do something he shouldn’t have?”



“No.”



He heard the lie, but he couldn’t call her on it. Even as her Master of the Guard, he couldn’t call her on the lie. But he could—and would—talk to Shira and find out if Cassidy had any other injuries.