When Jaenelle raised her head, there was nothing cold about the gleam in her eyes. "What book?"

"You mentionedwhat!"

Daemon rubbed the back of his neck as he warily studied his father. He had felt some obligation, male to male, to give Saetan fair warning—and now sincerely wished he hadn't.

Saetan stared at him. "Whatever possessed you to tell her about it in the first place?"

Oh, no. He was not going to repeat anything that had led up to that comment. "Jaenelle's in a much better mood now."

"I'm sure she is." Saetan rubbed his hands over his face. "What's she doing now?"

"Resting," Daemon said. "I'm going to talk to Beale about having a tray brought to her sitting room. We'll have dinner there and then play cards for a while."

The way Saetan's eyes suddenly glittered made him nervous.

"You're going to play cards with Jaenelle?" Saetan asked.

"Yes," Daemon replied cautiously.

"In that case, Prince, I'd say you've more than made up for mentioning that book."

9 / Kaeleer

Osvald lingered in the corridor.

At first, he'd thought Vania's greedy lust was going to spoil all their plans. But after the pale bitch-Queen had ripped into the males of the court because of it, they'd all gone off to lick their emotional wounds and hadn't been seen for the rest of the day.

Jaenelle's fury would have been a gift that had fallen into his hands if Wilhelmina Benedict had been in her room. But she wasn't, and he had no idea where to look for her. If she was with the other bitches, he couldn't approach her. He didn't want any of them taking special notice of him before he was ready to disappear.

Soon, he thought as he returned to his own room. Soon.

10 / Kaeleer

And they callmethe Sadist, Daemon thought as he eyed the game board and cards—and did his best not to snarl in frustration.

"You almost won that round," Jaenelle offered, trying not to look too gleeful as she tallied up the scores.

Daemon bared his teeth in a poor imitation of a smile. "My deal?"

Nodding, Jaenelle busily turned the paper over, drew a line down the middle, and wrote their names at the top.

Daemon picked up the cards and began shuffling the deck.

Hell's fire, he shouldn't be havingthis much trouble with a card game. It was just a variation of the game "cradle" that Jaenelle had played as a child. All right, it wastwenty-six variations of "cradle." He still shouldn't be having this much trouble winning a round. But there was something a littleoff about this game, something that defied rational thinking.Male thinking.

A game board with colored stones and bone discs with symbols etched on one side. A hand of cards. And the convoluted interaction between them. He could picture the coven sitting around on a stormy winter afternoon, putting this game together piece by piece, building one variation off another, adding bits from other games distinct to their own cultures, until they had created something that was pure torture for the male brain. He particularly despised the wild card game because the player in control of the board when the wild card turned up could call for a different variation—which could turn a good hand and game plan into garbage.

There had to be a way to turn that to his advantage. Had to...

Continuing to shuffle the cards, Daemon studied the game board carefully, studied the stones and the bone discs. Thought about how each piececould interact with the other pieces—and the cards.

Yes, that would work. That would work quite well.

"Which variation do you want to play?" Jaenelle asked as she placed the stones and discs in their starting positions.

Daemon gave her the smile that used to terrify the Queens in Terreille. "Variation twenty-seven."

Jaenelle just frowned at him. "Daemon, there is no variation twenty-seven."

He dealt the cards and purred, "There is now."

11 / Kaeleer

She was so young,Surreal thought as she studied her mother.I had thought of her as being so big, so strong. But she's smaller than me... and she was so young when she died.

Titian tucked her feet up on the window seat and wrapped her arms around her knees. "It's good you've come to Kaeleer."

Surreal stared out the window. But the night-darkened glass didn't show her anything but her own reflection— and that made her think of the questions that had gone unanswered for too long. "Why didn't we come here before?" she asked quietly. "Why didn't you go home after you got away from Kartane?" She hesitated. "Was it because of me?"

"No,"Titian said sharply. "I chose to keep you, Surreal. I had to fight against my body's instinctive rejection of a child conceived by force, andI chose you." Now Titian hesitated. "There were other reasons not to go home then. If I had, your life would have been easier, but..."

"But what?" Surreal snapped. "If you had gone home, you wouldn't have had to whore for food and shelter. If you had gotten out of Terreille, you wouldn't have died so damn young. What reason is good enough to balance those things?"

"I loved my father," Titian said softly. "And I loved my brothers. Rape is punishable by execution, Surreal. If I had gone home as soon as I escaped from Kartane, my father and brothers would have gone to Hayll to kill him."

Surreal stared at her. "How in the name of Hell did they expect to get past all of Dorothea's guards in order to get to Kartane?"

"They would have died," Titian said simply. "And I didn't want my father and brothers to die. Can you understand that?"

"Not really, since I've spent most of my life preparing for the day when I can kill Kartane. Now, if it had been your mother..." Surreal tried to smile and couldn't. "What do you think your father would have said about your choice?"

Titian's smile was rueful. "Iknow what he said. He was in the Dark Realm for a little while before he returned to the Darkness. But he lived the full span of his years, Surreal, and my brothers raised children who never would have been born." She paused. "And if I had chosen differently, you wouldn't have been in Chaillot thirteen years ago, and we would have lost the greatest Queen the Blood has ever known."

"And if you hadn't ended up in Terreille, under Kartane, you would have been a Queen and a Black Widow."

"I stillam a Queen and a Black Widow," Titian snapped. "When Kartane broke me, he severed me from the strength that would have been mine, but he couldn't take away what I am."

"I'm sorry," Surreal said, not sure how to express regret without giving insult.

"Don't shoulder regrets, little witch," Titian said gently as she got to her feet. "And don't shoulder the burden of anyone's actions but your own." She held out her hand. "Come on. You'll need your wits about you if you're sparring with Lucivar tomorrow."

Surreal rose wearily and followed Titian. Between that scene with Vania at midday, the extra workout with Falonar, and coping with the aftermath of Jaenelle's fury, she was more than ready to crawl into bed. She had hugged more distressed males that day than she had in her entire life. Which reminded her of something else. "Howdo I deal with the male relatives I've suddenly acquired?"

"You set your boundaries," Titian replied as they reached the corridor near Surreal's room. "You decide what you're willing to let them do for you and what you have to do for yourself. Then you tell them—gently. This is Kaeleer, Surreal. You have to handle the males—" Titian froze. Her nostrils flared.

"Titian?" Surreal asked, startled by the awful expression on her mother's face. "What's wrong?"

"Where's the High Lord?" Titian snarled. Not waiting for an answer, she ran for the nearest staircase.

Surreal raced after her, catching up to her when Titian jerked to a halt in front of a door.

Titian banged the door once with her fist, then flung it open. "High Lord!"

A muffled sound came from the adjoining room.

Titian flung that door open and rushed into the room. Surreal rushed in behind her, then stopped abruptly.

Saetan froze in the act of reaching for the dressing robe that was on his bed. He slowly straightened up and turned to face them.

Surreal couldn't stop herself from giving him one quick, professional—and approving—glance.

Titian didn't seem to notice that she had walked in on a naked, and now irritated, man.

"There's a tainted male in the Hall," Titian said abruptly.

Saetan stared at her for a moment. Then he grabbed the robe, said tersely, "Where?" and was out the door, with Titian at his heels, before Surreal could gather her wits.

By the time she caught up to them, Titian was questing back and forth in the corridor like a hound searching for a scent while Saetan prowled more slowly. Neither of them paid any attention to her arrival.

"It was here," Titian said as she searched. "It washere."

"Can you still sense it?" Saetan asked too quietly.

Titian's shoulders tensed. "No. But itwas here."

"I'm not doubting you, Lady."

"But you sense nothing."

"No. Which only means that whoever created the spells designed to hide him knew exactly who and what to hide him from."

"Hekatah did this," Titian said.

Saetan nodded. "Or Dorothea. Or both. Whoever he is, they made sure he would blend in so there would be no reason to give him a closer look. The only thing they couldn't anticipate was a Harpy catching a trace of his true psychic scent. But why was he lingering here?" He turned to study the doors. "Surreal's room. And Wilhelmina's room."

Surprised by her own discomfort, Surreal cleared her throat. "It could just be a man who hasn't heard that I retired from the Red Moon houses."

Saetan gave her a long, assessing look, then turned to Titian, who shook her head. "I agree," he said cryptically. He knocked sharply on Wilhelmina's door. When he got no answer, he went in. He came out a minute later. "She's in the garden with Dejaal. He'll stay with her."