Andrew gnawed on his lip. “At the tree…we…”

Daemon hissed.

Andrew paled, then flushed crimson. His eyes flashed with anger, and his fists clenched. “You…you think I’d…”

“Then what do you do at that tree?”

Andrew took a deep breath. “We change places.”

Daemon frowned. “Change places?”

“Change horses. I’ve got a slight build. The pony can carry me.”

“And she rides…?”

Andrew put a tentative hand on the stallion’s neck.

Daemon exploded. “You little son of a whoring bitch, you put a young girl up on that?”

The stallion snorted his displeasure at this display of temper.

Common sense and dancing hooves won out over Daemon’s desire to throttle the stable lad.

Caught between the stallion and the angry Warlord Prince, Andrew’s lips twitched with a wry smile. “You should see her up on that. And he takes care of her, too.”

Daemon turned away, his anger spent. “Mother Night,” he muttered, shaking his head as he walked toward the house and a welcome hot shower. “Mother Night.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

1 / Terreille

“I just told you,” Philip snapped. “You won’t be needed today.”

“I heard what you—”

A muscle in Philip’s jaw twitched. “You have a free day. I realize Hayllians think we’re a backward people, but we have museums and art galleries and theaters. There must be something you could do for a day that wouldn’t be beneath you.”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed. At breakfast Leland had been skittish and unnaturally quiet, Alexandra had been unaccountably tense, Robert had been nowhere in sight, and now Philip was displaying this erratic anger and trying to force him out of the house for the day. “Very well.”

Accepting a curt dismissal, he requested a carriage to take him into the shop district of Beldon Mor and went to the kitchen to see if Cook knew what was going on. But that lady, too, was in a fine fit of temper, and he retreated before she saw him, wincing as she slammed a heavy roasting pan onto her worktable.

He spent the morning wandering in and out of bookshops, gathering a variety of novels by Chaillot authors and puzzling over what could have put everyone in the household into such a state. Whatever it was, the answers weren’t in the city.

He returned to the Angelline estate by lunchtime, only to find out that the entire family had left on an errand.

Annoyed at being thwarted, Daemon stacked the books on the writing desk, changed his clothes, and went to the stables.

There, too, everyone was on edge. Guinness snapped at the stable lads while they struggled to control overwrought horses.

“I’ll take the stallion out if you want,” Daemon offered.

“You tired of living?” Guinness snapped. He took a deep breath and relented. “It would help to get that one out of the yard for a while.”

“Things are a bit tense around here.”

“Ayah.”

When Guinness offered nothing more, Daemon went to the stallion’s box stall and waited for Andrew to saddle him. The boy’s hands shook while he checked the girth. Tired of evasiveness, Daemon took the horse out of the yard and headed for the field.