“Perhaps,” he said slowly, thinking it over. Then he smiled wryly. “I was of the opinion that I was sent here because I had been a bit too troublesome of late and there wasn’t another court that would have me, or another Queen that Dorothea was willing to sacrifice in order to blunt my temper.” He sipped the wine appreciatively. “However, if what you believe is true—and recent events do seem to support that belief—it was a grave error on her part.” He laughed softly, but there was a brutality to the sound that made Cassandra shiver.

“Why is it an error? If she offered you something of value to—”

“Like my freedom?” The wariness was back in his eyes. “Like a century of not having to kneel and serve?”

Cassandra pressed her lips together. This was going wrong, and if he turned against her again, he wouldn’t relent a second time. “The girl means everything to us, Prince, and she means nothing to you.”

“Nothing?” He smiled bitterly. “Do you think that someone like me, having lived as I’ve lived, being what I am, would destroy the one person he’s been looking for his whole life? Do you think me such a fool I don’t recognize what she is, what she’ll become? She’s magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.”

Cassandra stared at him. “You’re in love with her.” Sudden anger washed over her at the next thought. “She’s just a child.”

“That fact hasn’t eluded me,” he said dryly as he refilled his wineglass. “Who is ‘us’?”

“What?”

“You said ‘the girl means everything to us.’ Who?”

“Me…” Cassandra hesitated, took a deep breath. “And the Priest.”

Daemon’s expression was a mixture of relief and pain. He licked his lips. “Does he…Does he think I mean her harm?” He shook his head. “No matter. I’ve wondered the same about him.”

Cassandra gasped, incensed. “How could—” She stopped herself. If they had presumed that about him, why would he not presume the same about them? She sat at the kitchen table. He hesitated and then sat across from her. “Listen to me,” she said earnestly. “I can understand why you feel bitter toward him, but you don’t feel half as bitter as he does. He never wanted to walk away from you, but he had no other choice. No matter what you think of him because of the way you’ve had to live, one thing is true: he adores her. With every breath, with every drop of his blood, he adores her.”

Daemon toyed with the wineglass. “Isn’t he a little old for her?”

“I’d say he was experienced,” Cassandra replied tartly. “She’ll be a powerful Queen and should have an older, experienced Steward.”

Daemon glanced at her, amused. “Steward?”

“Of course.” She studied him. “Do you have ambitions to wear the Steward’s ring?”

Daemon shook his head. His lips twitched. “No, I don’t have any ambitions to wear the Steward’s ring.”

“Well, then.” Cassandra’s eyes widened. Now that the chill was gone, now that he was a little more relaxed…“You really are your father’s son,” she said dryly and was startled by his immediate, warm laughter. Her eyes narrowed. “You thought—that’s wicked!”