And they all lived together at the Angelline estate in Beldon Mor.

She played dinner as long as she could before beginning to play the bed. A Gray-Jeweled Prince who had gone without pleasure for a long time could be an unintentionally rough companion, but he didn’t worry her. She, too, wore the Gray, but never for this job. She always wore her Birthright Green, or no Jewel at all, allowing her clients to feel in control. Still, tonight he wouldn’t mind a little rough handling, and he was one of the few men she knew in her second profession who actually wanted to give as well as receive pleasure.

Yes, Philip was a good way to begin this stay.

Surreal dimmed the candle-lights, turning the room to smoke, to dusk. He didn’t rush now. He touched, tasted, savored. And she, subtly guiding, let him do what he had come here to do.

It was dawn before Philip dressed and kissed her good-bye.

Surreal stared at the gauze canopy. He’d gotten his money’s worth and more. And he’d been a pleasant distraction from the memories that had been crowding her lately, that were the reason she’d come to Chaillot. Memories of Titian, of Tersa…of the Sadist.

Surreal was ten years old when Titian brought Tersa home one afternoon and tucked the bedraggled witch into her own bed. During the few days the mad Black Widow stayed with them, Titian spent hours listening to Tersa’s gibberish interspersed with strange jokes and cryptic sayings.

A week after Tersa left them, she returned with the coldest, handsomest man Surreal had ever seen. The first Warlord Prince she had ever seen. He said nothing, letting Tersa babble while he watched Titian, while his gaze burned the child trembling beside her mother.

Finally Tersa stopped talking and tugged at the man’s sleeve. “The child is Blood and should be trained in the Craft. She has the right to wear the Jewels if she’s strong enough. Daemon, please.”

His golden eyes narrowed as he came to a decision. Reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket, he removed several gold hundred-mark notes from a billfold and laid them carefully on the table. He called in a piece of paper and a pen, wrote a few words, and left the paper and a key on top of the notes.

“The place isn’t elegant, but it’s warm and clean.” His deep, seductive voice sent a delightful shiver through Surreal. “It’s a few blocks from here, in a neighborhood where no one asks questions. There are the names of a couple of potential tutors for the girl. They’re good men who got on the wrong side of the ones who have power. You’re welcome to use the flat as long as you want.”

“And the price?” Titian’s soft voice was full of ice.

“That you don’t deny Tersa access to the place whenever she’s in this part of the Realm. I won’t make use of it while you’re there, but Tersa must be able to use the refuge I originally acquired for her.”