“Are you still snarling about that?” Ranon asked, also keeping close watch.

“You’d be snarling too if she’d said it to you.”

“Probably,” Ranon replied, smiling. Then he sighed. Gray heard so much relief in that sound.

“Last one,” Gray said. “Then we can go home.”

They had fought it out for hours after Surreal and Rainier left. Powell had tried to keep things courteous, but it felt like yelling was the only way to bridge the gap between what Cassie wanted to do and what the court was willing to let her do.

In the end, neither side was happy, but the compromise was something they could all live with.

Thirty villages in five days, spread over the three Shalador reserves and the two southernmost Provinces. Fifteen Blood and fifteen landen. Cassie had insisted that the landens be included.Every man had been opposed tothat— until Vae nipped Ranon in the ass. So Cassie, backed by Vae’s teeth, had won that part of the argument.

Gray hadn’t fought in the landen uprising. Hadn’t seen the bodies in the burned villages. Hadn’t found what was left of people he’d loved. But he understood why the other men had argued. It had been hard for the Warlord Princes especially to watch Cassie open a vein and fill that small offering cup to benefit landens.

But after the first landen village, they all understood why she had fought to do this. The landens were hostile and wary—and sure that a Queen’s presence meant pain. Mother Night, the looks on their faces when they realized Cassie and the Queens who came with her were doing something that would benefit their village and increase their crops so they could pay the tithe and still feed their children through the coming winter.

“You can’t erase generations of suffering and two years of war in a couple of hours,” Ranon said quietly. “But, sweet Darkness, Gray, the people in this village won’t look at the Blood the same way the next time we ride in.”

Because of the Queen with hazel eyes and sunset hair.

The Queens walked the field, dipping into the barrels of water that floated behind them and sprinkling the ground with water enhanced with their blood and power. First and last plant in each row got a dipper full of water. Gray could already see a difference in the first rows that had been given the Queens’ touch.

A gift. A part of what it meant to be a Queen. The ritual cup of blood made the water richer and nourished the land faster, but power alone could be released into the water or directly into the land. The results weren’t as dramatic, but it was less physically demanding for the Queen and something they could do often without endangering themselves.

Learning about that option had almost started another quarrel between him and Cassie over her first careless release of power. Probably just as well that Surreal and Rainier had already gone home before he found out about it.

“I’m glad there’s a way the Queens can use their gift without spilling their own blood,” Gray said.

“Shira is pleased about that too,” Ranon replied. “She wasn’t happy about Cassidy opening a vein every time to siphon some power into the land. The men who serve can accept blood being given once a year in a ceremony when the rest of the time it’s just the Ladies releasing a bit of power into the land or water.” He paused. “Even using restraint and letting other Queens demonstrate, Cassidy has drained herself more than she should have.”

“Well, she’s going to go home andrest for a day,” Gray said, feeling his temper sharpen at the thought of her collapsing again.

Ranon snorted. “Good luck getting her to do that.”

Gray closed his eyes and began counting. “Her moontime is coming. Shehas to rest during those first three days. It’s arule. ”

He could feel Ranon watching him.

“And that fussing thing,” he said, opening his eyes enough to keep track of Cassie. “That first time, Lucivar said something about being allowed to fuss during those days, but I wasn’t paying attention.”

He heard Ranon try to choke it back, but the laughter burst out.

“Hell’s fire, Gray,” Ranon said when he was able to speak again. “You’re turning into a pain in the ass.”

Something inside him shifted, settled. Felt solid—and right. He looked at his friend and said, “No, I’m turning into a Warlord Prince.”

Kermilla lay back on her bed and smiled.

The Queen of Dena Nehele. She finally understood what all of Theran’s circling had been about. He wanted to know if she was interested in ruling Dena Nehele after Cassidy’s contract ran out. He didn’t want Freckledy; he wantedher.

A Territory Queen.La, wasn’t that wonderful? All right, it wasn’t a rich, exciting Territory, and itwas in Terreille, but the tithes had to be worth the responsibilities, so they would beso much better than that little sheep-shit village of Bhak or, worse, Woolskin. She’d try for a five-year contract. Theran would get it for her. And she wouldn’t shirk her duties. Really, she wouldn’t. But she’d make sure there was somefun too.

It had been satisfying to teach those other Queens about draining power into the land. Such a basic thing, and they didn’t know it.La! They weren’t much better than landens. Not that she’dsaid that. She supposed they were nice enough, but most of them were older than her and they looked so tatty and didn’t talk about anything interesting. How could they expect anyone to take them seriously as Queens when they dressed like that and didn’t know how to be interesting?

She would set an example, even set the fashion trends. Wouldn’t that be fun? Of course, because Freckledy had gotten into a snit, she was stuck here in Grayhaven, which was supposed to be the capital of Dena Nehele and an Important Town. There wasn’t anything here thatshe considered impressive. If this was the best they could do, maybe she didn’t want to rule here after all.

No, of course she wanted to rule here. When would she get another opportunity to rule a whole Territory? Sabrina was going to be ruling Dharo for years and years, and there were too many other strong Queens to choose from when it came time for a successor. She could continue to rule Bhak and keep a connection with Dharo that way. A few days each season would be sufficient for whatever required her attention. Her Steward could run Bhak and landen Woolskin the rest of the time and just send her reports—and the all-important income from the tithes. Then, if she decided not to stay in Dena Nehele and nothing better turned up in Terreille, she could go home, a seasoned Queen who might not be offered a Province—yet—but should be given her pick of the larger cities that could offer more diversity in terms of society and entertainment—and shops.

If she was going to stay here, she would need more company. Nottoo much company, since Theran was more than a bit stingy and he would have to support any Ladies who were her companions. But that one young Queen who had come with the others—she and Correne had become friends within minutes, and the girl was enough like her to fit right in. At sixteen, Correne wasn’t a baby, but she was still too young to be serious competition, despite being pretty. No Queen was serious competition until she had her Virgin Night and could offer some enticement to the males without risking her own power.

A knock on her door.

“Come in,” she said gaily.

Jhorma slipped into the room and closed the door.

Kermilla watched him as he approached the bed. He was a handsome man and a skilled lover, but there wasn’t the heat in his eyes for her that there had been while he was chained to Cassidy’s bed. Oh, he came to her bed hungry to please—and to take his own relief as a reward—and he never made excuses to get out of performing the way he did with Freckledy toward the end of his contract. But he didn’t look at her the way Theran did. She was getting the impression that Jhorma could swap her with any female body and be just as thorough and enthusiastic—as long as he got his own pleasure at the end. Theran looked at her as if she was the only one he wanted, the only one who could satisfy him.

Jhorma didn’t remove his jacket before sitting beside her on the bed, didn’t make any move to touch her.

“We need to talk,” he said.

She ran a finger down his arm and smiled playfully. “Sex first, talk later.”

He didn’t smile back. “How much longer are we going to be stuck in this place?”

Her smile soured to a frown. “For as long as I say we stay.”

“Cassidy isn’t here, and it doesn’t sound like she’s coming back. When you decided to come here, you told Gallard we would be gone a couple of days. Three at the most. He assigned the escorts according to that information.”

“So?”

“Aston and Ridley have families. They want to go home. They wouldn’t have been given this assignment if the Steward had known we’d be away this long.”

She sat up, stung that Jhorma was more interested in talking about Aston and Ridley than in having sex with her.

“Fine,” she snapped. “Tell the whiny boys who are missing the nipple that they can go home.”

Anger flashed in his eyes before he hid it.

He hadn’t shown her anger since he’d signed a contract to serve as her Consort, but he hadn’t hesitated to give her a verbal slap when she’d been training in Freckledy’s court and had said something cutting about one of the other men.

But he’d always smiled indulgently when she’d referred to Cassidy as Freckledy. She’d just forgotten how testy the males could be when you made fun of one ofthem.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That was uncalled for. It’s just . . . I don’t feel like I have any support here.”

“Then maybe we should all go back to Dharo.”

But I have a chance to rule a whole Territory.

Not something she could say to him.He wouldn’t be part of that court. She didn’t pay attention when Theran began droning on and on about Dena Nehele, but she did understand that he and the other Warlord Princes here never would tolerate a ruling court made up of outsiders. Something about courts like that ruling here before and making a mess of things.