The Queen's Price

TWENTY-SIX

Jillian hurried to the front door of her cottage in response to the second knock. The two young Scelties who lived with her didn’t tend to bark. They usually used human speech to announce—loudly—when there was a visitor. In fact, they often used Craft to open the door and inspect the visitor before deciding if that person would be allowed inside. But they didn’t bark in response to the knock on the door, and they didn’t announce themselves or anyone else. They just stared at the door, whining softly as if uncertain about how to respond to this particular visitor, then trotted off to their beds in the kitchen—a sure sign that they knew they were too young and had too little power to deal with her guest.

Gray power on the other side of the door. Female. Not completely unfamiliar, but not Surreal. Who . . . ?

Swallowing nerves and trying to remember where she’d come in contact with that psychic scent before, Jillian put a double Purple Dusk shield around herself before opening the door. Then she blinked. “Lady Karla.”

“Kiss kiss.”

“Uh . . .” Jillian felt like she’d been tossed in the air by a storm-driven gust of wind. “I’m expecting . . .”

“Me.”

She blinked again. “Really?”

“Lucivar. Virgin Night. You wanted to talk.”

Oh, Hell’s fire. She opened the door wider and stepped aside for the Gray-Jeweled Black Widow Queen.

Karla walked into the cottage. “It looks lovely. Comfortable.”

“I’m pleased with it.” Jillian led the way into the sitting room. “I don’t have any yarbarah.”

“I brought some.” Karla settled into a chair, set her cane to one side, then called in a bottle and a ravenglass goblet. She poured a glass of the blood wine and warmed it over a tongue of witchfire. “I heard that your lover-to-be has a keen interest in wine.”

Lover-to-be. Is that how Stefan would be seen from now on? “He’s a vintner. Prince Sadi took a case of a new wine that Stefan had made.”

“Tell me about him.”

Jillian poured a glass of Stefan’s wine for herself. “Why do you want to know?”

“Think of it as foreplay before we get to the subject we’re here to discuss.”

“I’d rather just find out . . .” What could she ask? Karla wasn’t outside the family, so confessing that she’d already gone through her Virgin Night might not be the best idea, since she would have to explain who and how and where and why. “I don’t need details about the . . . act . . . just some idea of what to expect from Lucivar.”

“Typically Eyrien to be so direct. Just as well you don’t want details. It was Lucivar, and he does things his own way.”

Jillian gestured with the wineglass, indicating Karla’s Gray Jewel. “You obviously got through the Virgin Night.”

“I did, although the details I was aware of have gotten a bit fuzzy, which I’m sure is for the best. Do you know what free fall is?”

“Yes. It’s . . .”

“Uh-huh,” Karla said. “I made the Offering to the Darkness first. There aren’t many men powerful enough to see a Gray-Jeweled Queen through her Virgin Night, and at the time, the ones who could be trusted belonged to the Dark Court. Chaosti was married to Gabrielle by then, and he would have fought going to anyone else’s bed. Lucivar was interested in Marian but not formally attached in any way, so Uncle Saetan asked him to perform that duty.”

“Duty,” Jillian murmured. “Not exactly romantic.”

“Some women need the romantic setting, with candles and music and seduction. I like candles and music with a good dinner. I just don’t want it spoiled by a cock.” Karla drained her glass and prepared another serving of yarbarah. “Lucivar went the other way and told me about the only other time he saw a girl through her Virgin Night, and why he’d never done it again.” She looked at Jillian over the rim of her glass. “He saw her safely through, and the next morning the bitch spat on him because he was a half-breed bastard.”

Jillian set her glass on the side table before she dropped it. “What? She did what?”

“Spat on him. I was riled about that too. Anyway, he and I drank the brew we were supposed to drink to make things easier, and he suggested that I open my inner barriers and allow him to create a . . . scenario . . . as a bit of distraction. I think that’s what he said. Things got fuzzy.”

“Yes, you mentioned that. Men create a scenario?”

“Darling, we’re talking about Lucivar, not men.”

“Right.”

“One moment, we’re in the bedroom, in bed. The next moment, we’re outside and heading for the sky. Hell’s fire, that man has speed. I do remember that. Then he rolled us so I had a terrific view of the ground that was so very far away—and he folded his wings.”

“Free fall,” Jillian said, barely breathing.

“There I am, yelling at him and watching the ground come up to meet us and wondering how big a splat we’ll make when we hit and who will have to scrape us off the ground, when he finally opens his wings and glides to this quiet little lake and sets me down. I’m pretty sure I swore at him. I’m pretty sure I slugged him. At some point while I’m swearing, I blink and we’re back in the bedroom where we started, and Lucivar is telling me it’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“Exactly. While I was preoccupied with falling out of the sky, he took care of business. I can’t say we had sex in the usual sense, since I don’t remember any of that, but his cock did what it was supposed to do for a Virgin Night.”

“Hell’s fire.” Jillian gulped her wine too fast and started to cough. When she finally could wheeze . . . “That’s not . . . ?”

“Typical? No. Not even for Eyriens. But that was Lucivar.”

“You had a daughter. Was her Virgin Night . . . ?”

“More traditional? The second attempt was. Or so I was told. The first attempt . . . Let’s just say I was more anxious than I realized, and I informed the man that if anything happened to my daughter, I would prepare cock and balls soup and make him eat it while I melted his eyeballs. My Master of the Guard informed me that I threw the man so far off stride, there was some question about him ever standing at attention again. My Master took care of arrangements for the second time and asked me not to attend. Well, I gathered that was one of the conditions of anyone trying to perform the service.”

I am so glad Lady Surreal is arranging my Virgin Night. Then again, she also wears the Gray and is an assassin. Is that any better, even for a fake Virgin Night?

“Are you feeling better about your Virgin Night?” Karla asked brightly.

“I don’t think ‘better’ is the correct word,” Jillian replied.

“My advice? Surreal will make sure the man has the experience and skill to see you safely through the act, and she will stay nearby. But Lucivar and Daemon . . . You’re the first girl in the family to reach this age. Let them fuss over you, even if you think they’re being silly. They need the reassurance that you’re all right. Let them give you a party to celebrate.”

“Somehow I don’t think I want to send out ‘I survived my Virgin Night, come celebrate’ invitations.”

“You don’t need to explain anything. Invite your vintner. Give the boyos a chance to get used to the idea that he’ll be warming your feet—and other things.”

“Poor Stefan.”

“It will be safer for him if the two of you inform Lucivar and Daemon of your intention to be lovers,” Karla pointed out.

Hadn’t she already done that?

“Well, I certainly have a lot to think about,” Jillian said. And she would have plenty of time to think, since she was certain she wasn’t going to sleep for the rest of the week.

“Then I’ll take my leave. By the way, I like your hair.”

At the door, Jillian said, “There’s no such thing as cock and balls soup. That was a bluff, wasn’t it?”

Karla gave her a long look before saying softly, “Don’t ever underestimate Daemon Sadi when he’s protecting someone he cares about.”