“Partnership,” Jaenelle said quietly. “You went to Hayll and played out a vicious game to distract Dorothea and Hekatah because that’s what I needed you to do. And it cost you. Don’t think I’m not aware of how much it cost you, Prince.”

“That was different.” Remembering the emotional cruelty he’d inflicted on his family in order to keep them from physical harm made his chest tighten, made it hard to breathe.

“Yes, it was different,” Jaenelle said. “This isn’t about serving in a court. This isn’t about saving a Realm from being shattered by war. This is personal. Someone is going after you. And whether you like it or not, you are not going to play out this game alone.”

Jaenelle would protect anyone she loved, no matter the price. If he refused to let her help, she would go off on her own to find whoever was playing games with his life. At least if they stayed together, he could protect her while she was trying to protect him.

“All right, partner,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”

She frowned. “I’m not sure yet. But we’ll think of some way to find the source of the rumors being spread about you.” Then she looked at him through her lashes. “So, who’s going to tell Mrs. Beale she’s got a month to plan a wedding feast?”

Hell’s fire. Mrs. Beale was a marvelous cook. She also had what he considered an unnatural relationship with her meat cleaver. Since he’d inherited SaDiablo Hall, he had gained a finer appreciation of why his father had stayed away from anything to do with the kitchen unless cornered. The woman was downright scary at times.

The fact that she and Beale, the Hall’s butler, were happily married was something he tried not to think about because it made him wonder things about Beale he’d rather not wonder.

“If we both went to Amdarh, we could just write her a note,” Jaenelle said.

He looked at Jaenelle. She looked at him.

“Good idea,” he said.

That settled, she snuggled against him and slept for the rest of the journey.

2

*High Lord?*

Ladvarian’s suppressed excitement made Saetan’s nerves twang, but he continued warming a glass of yarbarah as if he had no concerns. “Lord Ladvarian. What brings you to the Keep?”

*There’s something you should know. But it’s a secret.*

Comfortably settled in a window seat, Saetan watched as twilight faded the colors in the small garden beyond the room Draca had given him to use as a study.