In another place, another time, born to different parents, Terah Graesin’s evils would have been meaningless, for she was merely obliviously selfish. She had desires, and others existed to fulfill them. Her betrayals were casual because she barely gave them a thought. Had she been born a miller’s daughter, the damage she did would have been confined to jilted lovers and cheated customers.

“I thought Logan and Rimbold had told me everything about you, Kylar Drake, but they could have warned me how handsome you are,” Terah said, flashing white teeth that somehow reminded Kylar of a shark.

For some reason, the comment flustered Kylar. He’d always considered himself very average-looking, but looking into her eyes, he knew—knew—that she meant what she said, even if she was saying it aloud to flatter him. He blinked and began blushing and whatever it was that made him see into Terah faltered and disappeared. She chuckled, and it was a low, acquisitive sound.

“And such beautiful eyes,” she said. “You’ve got eyes that make a girl think you can see right through her.”

“I can,” he said.

“Is that why you’re blushing?”

That, of course, made him blush harder. He glanced back to Terah’s ladies-in-waiting. They had dropped back. Apparently they knew that when Terah approached a man she wished to do so alone, but they were laughing prettily, no doubt at his expense. He caught a glimpse of one of them who didn’t seem to be enjoying the comments, but then he lost her.

“Tell me, marquess, what do you see when you look in my eyes?” Terah asked.

“It would be highly indiscreet for me to say, Your Highness,” Kylar said.

For an instant, her eyes filled with hunger. “Marquess,” she said gravely, “a man risks his tongue for speaking indiscreetly to a queen.”

“Tongues should be used to commit indiscretions, not to discuss them.”

Terah Graesin gasped. “Marquess! You’ll have me blushing.”

“I’d be content with having you.”

Her eyes dilated, then she pretended to cool. “Marquess Drake, I consider it my duty to know the nobles who serve me. You will attend me in my chambers.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Her voice softened. “Wait ten minutes. The guards will allow you through the door. I expect your . . .  discretion.” He nodded, smirking, and she paused. “Have we met? There’s something about you that seems so familiar.”

“Actually, we did meet once.” During the coup. “I’m sorry I didn’t make more of an impression on you.” Six inches into your heart would have been about right.

“Well, we’ll remedy that.”

“Indeed.”