Banard called in a velvet-lined ring case. Brass rings marched in neat rows from the largest, which would fit a man twice Daemon’s size, to the smallest, which looked like it would fit only a small child.

“I made the rings for the Lady’s Court,” Banard said, his fingers moving above the rows of brass rings. “If I remember correctly . . .” He selected a ring and held it out.

Daemon slipped it on his finger. A perfect fit. Just as the Consort’s Ring had been a perfect fit.

He removed the ring and gave it back to Banard, who returned the ring to its place and vanished the case.

“As for the other—”

Banard broke off as the shop’s door opened and a woman stepped inside. She smiled at them, then moved to the display case that contained brooches.

“I’ll give the matter some thought,” Banard continued quietly. “Make a few sketches for you to look at the next time you’re in Amdarh. Would that be sufficient?”

“That would be fine,” Daemon replied, working to keep his voice from turning into a snarl. Something in the air. Something that honed his temper.

He turned his head and studied the woman. A lighter-Jeweled witch. Who was cloaked in an illusion spell. The kind of spell that could only be made through the Hourglass’s Craft. That’s what he sensed. But there was nothing . . . enhanced . . . about her appearance. She was attractive but hardly stunning. Perhaps she was disfigured in some way, from accident or illness. There were some things even the best Healer couldn’t fix completely, so an illusion spell was sometimes used to hide a disfigurement.

Wondering if she had come from Terreille, and knowing the cruel and terrible things Dorothea and her followers had done to people, he felt a moment’s pity for her and was glad the illusion spell gave her the courage to go out in the world.

“There is one thing I can show you,” Banard said. “I just finished it yesterday.” He retreated behind the curtain that shielded his workroom and the private showrooms, then returned quickly with a piece of folded black velvet. He set the cloth on the counter and revealed its contents.

Daemon picked up the bracelet. It was a double strand of white and yellow gold set with precious and semi-precious gems that matched the colors of the Jewels from the Rose to the Black.

“It’s beautiful,” Daemon said. And so appropriate since it reflected every color that made up Twilight’s Dawn, the Jewel Jaenelle now wore. “A special gift for a special Lady.”

“I was hoping you would think so,” Banard said.

Grinning, he set it back on the velvet. “Wrap it up, and I’ll take it with me.”

“Oh. May I see it?”