“Wilhelmina,” Philip said, taking hold of her arm.

Wilhelmina screamed, flailing her arms at him as she stumbled back into the corner.

Pushing Philip aside, Daemon stood in front of Wilhelmina and snapped his fingers twice in quick succession. Once her eyes focused on his hand, he raised it slowly until it was level with his face. Then he lowered his hand and held it out to her. “Come, Lady Benedict,” he said in a respectful, formal voice. “Prince Alexander and I will escort you home.” He held his hand steady, giving her time to decide whether or not to accept it. When she finally did, she threw herself against him, locking her other arm around his waist.

In the end, despite Philip’s glaring at him, he untangled himself from her grasp and carried her downstairs to the waiting carriage and home, where, he fervently hoped, there would be someone who would take care of her.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

1 / Terreille

As she paced around her bedroom, Alexandra nervously twisted the secondary controlling ring she wore on her right hand. She had done what she had to do. The girl was obviously out of control. Dr. Carvay said Jaenelle had probably been under undue strain for a while, but this last episode—threatening members of Chaillot’s council with a broken bottle and speaking gibberish!

Alexandra knew where to place the blame. She hadn’t wanted to believe Robert’s hints, hadn’t wanted to believe Sadi’s interest in the girls was less than innocent, hadn’t wanted to believe he might actually have…with Jaenelle! With all the perverse things Sadi was capable of doing, was it any wonder that Jaenelle had mistaken the intent of the men who had taken Wilhelmina upstairs so she could rest a bit after overindulging in her first taste of sparkling wine? But to threaten the council, to put them all at risk while Lord Kartane was there and would no doubt send this tale winging back to Hayll! Of course Hayll’s High Priestess would be only too happy to send additional assistance, until Chaillot became a mere puppet dancing while Dorothea held the strings.

Sadi. She would have to send him back to—

Alexandra’s bedroom door clicked as the lock slipped back into place. She whirled, her right hand raised, but before she could use the controlling ring she lay sprawled on the floor, one side of her face ablaze from the blow of a phantom hand.

Pushing herself into a sitting position, Alexandra stared at Daemon, leaning so casually against the door.

“My dear,” he said in a gentle voice so full of murderous rage it terrified her worse than the most violent shout, “if you ever use the Ring on me again, I’ll decorate the walls with your brains.”

“If I use the Ring—”

Daemon laughed. It was an eerie sound—hollow, malevolent, cold. “I can survive a great deal of pain. Can you?” He smiled a brutal smile. “Shall we put it to the test? Your strength against mine? Your ability to withstand what I’ll do to your body—not to mention your mind—while you try to hold me off with that pathetic piece of metal?” He walked toward her. “The trust women have in the Ring is so misplaced. Haven’t you learned that much from the stories you’ve heard about me?”