“It is the trade agreement between Zuulaman and Dhemlan,” the Ambassador replied calmly.

“This is shit, and you know it,” Saetan snarled. “Zuulaman expects the Dhemlan Queens to hand over the surplus from all the harvests as well as a percentage of the livestock, pay a tithe on every product made by the Dhemlan people, and add a ‘market’ fee for anything that comes from other Territories that is not bought through a Zuulaman merchant. Have you all lost your minds? The Dhemlan Queens will never agree to this.”

“They will if you insist upon it. You rule here. You are the law here. If you sign the agreement, they have to comply or suffer the consequences.”

He felt himself sliding down into the abyss, sliding down to where his inner web rested at the depth of power signified by the Black Jewels—the cold, glorious Black. At the same time, he knew he was rising to the killing edge, that state of mind that revealed a Warlord Prince for what he truly was—a born killer, a natural predator. The effort to keep his temper leashed made his body quiver.

“I made an agreement with the Queens of this Territory to protect their people and their land with everything that I am. Now you expect me to use that power as the whip that will force them to turn their people into chattel for Zuulaman’s pleasure.” Saetan shook his head. “There is nothing Zuulaman can offer that is worth this. You may tell your Queen, and the Queens who answer to her, that there will be no trade agreement with Dhemlan.”

The Ambassador bowed his head. “I will leave you to consider the matter.”

“There’s nothing more to consider.”

The Ambassador turned and walked to the study door. Then he paused. “I should mention that your wife is now a guest of the Zuulaman Queens—and will remain so until an agreement has been reached. The message I received also indicated that there was a miscalculation by the Dhemlan Healer as to Lady Hekatah’s time. She may give birth any day now, if the birthing hasn’t already begun.”

“Do you know who I am?” Saetan asked too softly.

The Ambassador smiled. “You are an honorable man.”

“Do you know who . . . and what . . . I am?” he asked again.

The Ambassador’s smile faltered. “Hopefully, you are a man who realizes a small inconvenience to the Dhemlan people is worth less than the well-being of your wife and child.”

Saetan waited until the Zuulaman Ambassador had left the Hall before he sank into his chair behind the blackwood desk.