The Queen's Price

TWENTY-ONE

Daemon walked into the sitting room across from the Queen’s and Consort’s suites and found Karla and Witch waiting for him. Well, he wasn’t sure they were waiting for him. Still, finding them together was convenient.

“Karla, darling, your assistance is requested,” he purred.

Karla blinked. “If you’re phrasing it like that and using that tone of voice, what in the name of Hell did you do?”

“Nothing. But Jillian is ready to have her Virgin Night.”

“You want us to lock Lucivar in a room and hold him until it’s done?” Witch asked.

“No, that won’t be necessary.” He hoped. Well, it wouldn’t be necessary. He’d be in Amdarh too. “Surreal is handling the details, but I thought Jillian might benefit from hearing about a Virgin Night from someone who had dealt with Lucivar.”

Karla stared at him. “You want me to tell Jillian what Lucivar did with me as a way to assure her that everything will be fine?”

Daemon rocked back on his heels. “He got you through it.”

Jaenelle looked at Karla. “He did do that. And anything anyone else does to see a witch through her Virgin Night is going to seem quite dull in comparison.”

He felt the ground crumbling under him. “What did he do?”

They just smiled at him.

“You’re not going to tell me.”

“No,” Karla said sweetly. “When do you want me to talk to Jillian?”

“At your earliest convenience,” he replied dryly.

“Then you should send a message to Lady Jillian that someone will be at her cottage tomorrow evening to discuss Virgin Nights.” A pause. “Kiss kiss.”

Karla nodded to Witch, then floated out of the sitting room.

Daemon took a seat next to Witch on the sofa.

She smiled. “I’m not going to tell you either.”

He wondered if dealing with Witch and Karla together was the mental equivalent of making the Khaldharon Run. He’d have to ask Lucivar.

“You wanted to talk about your daughter,” Jaenelle said quietly.

He sobered. “Yes. She’s struggling to find her balance and believes she needs to go to Scelt in order to find herself.”

“Believes it because . . . ?”

“Because of a broken Black Widow staying at Surreal’s sanctuary.”

“I see.”

He sighed, not sure if this would cause her pain. “Saetien was told the key to finding herself is learning about Wilhelmina Benedict.”

Silence.

He looked at the Queen who was the love of his life. “If that would hurt you . . .”

Jaenelle shook her head. “You know who she’ll have to see.”

“Yes.”

“He won’t be kind if she is . . . rude.”

“I know.” He hesitated. “Does she really need to do this? Stir up the past like this?”

“If it had been Tersa who had told her to do this, would you be questioning the need for her to go?” Jaenelle placed a hand over his. “No, you wouldn’t.”

She walked over to a desk in the room, returned a minute later, and held out a stiff rectangle of paper that had her seal embossed in the lower right-hand corner. “Give him this. He’ll understand.”

Daemon vanished the paper. “I’ll head to Scelt first thing in the morning.”

Jaenelle resumed her seat. “What about Grizande?”

“Lucivar is taking the children—and the kitten—back to the Hall tomorrow. Surreal is there now, keeping an eye on everyone.”

Jaenelle blinked. “You left Surreal with a pack of adolescents?”

He huffed. “Why does everyone assume the Hall will be a battleground by the time I get back?”

“Surreal. Adolescent girls, whose existence will scrape a sore spot right now. Boys with understandable but very inappropriate fantasies.”

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Shit.”

She patted his hand. “Look at the bright side, Daemon. When Lucivar gets there, they will all be thrilled to see him. And after a couple of days of dealing with him, they’ll be even more thrilled to see you.”

“So the Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince who is the High Lord of Hell is the benign presence?”

“That confused Saetan too, but he got used to it. Eventually.”

“Was that before or after you and the coven blew up a wall?”

She gave him that unsure but game smile. “Which time?”