Luthvian stood on the edge of the flagstone courtyard, glad she’d shrouded herself in a sight shield before climbing the steps from the landing place. Lucivar would have detected her if he hadn’t been so off balance, but Marian never would.

The compulsion spell had worked, but not well enough. The little hearth bitch was fighting it. If she’d been able to wrap the spell around Marian, everything would be done by now. But if Lucivar had sensed any kind of spell, he would have summoned his father to help him identify and break it, and Saetan . . . No, it wouldn’t do to have Saetan become aware of that spell. So she’d wrapped the compulsion spell around her own voice, and her words had stuck to Marian like warm tar.

But not enough. Caution had forced her to keep the spell light. Too light, it seemed. Because it was clear to her that Marian would try to remain as Lucivar’s housekeeper, and if the hearth witch was still here when the spell wore off completely . . .

No. She wasn’t going to have her son married to a hearth witch.

It might look suspicious to show up so soon after Lucivar’s departure, so she’d wait an hour and return to give the compulsion spell a little boost—one that would get Marian out of the eyrie . . . and out of Lucivar’s life.

Merry threw a shawl around her shoulders. “Briggs, can you watch things for a little while?”

“Sure I can, but where are you going?”

She saw the worry in her husband’s eyes. He had reason to worry. They both did. Lucivar had never walked into their tavern at opening time to gulp down three double whiskeys before he stormed out again, his eyes full of fury and pain. The Prince of Ebon Rih needed help, and there were only two people she could think of who could give it to him right now.

“I think Lady Angelline is staying at her cottage. I’m going to try to find her.” And if she couldn’t find Jaenelle, she’d go to the Keep. The Seneschal would know how to reach the Queen or the High Lord.

“Be careful, Merry.”

“That I will.” But as she left the tavern, she glanced up at the mountain where Lucivar made his home—and wondered what had happened there.

Lucivar strode into the room that had become Saetan’s study at the Keep. Part of him wished he was still a child who could climb into his father’s lap for comfort. He was too much of a warrior to ask for emotional comfort, so he settled for a fight that would let him vent the hurt inflicted by Marian’s words.

“I asked Marian to be my wife,” Lucivar said. He saw Saetan tense and wondered if Marian had been right after all. Would his father have been opposed to the marriage?