“Oh, dear,” Jaenelle said. “I’m surprised the walls of the Hall didn’t shake when he started yelling.”

“He didn’t have a chance to yell.” Lucivar smiled that lazy, arrogant smile that always signaled trouble. “Before he got started, I ended it.”

“How?”

“I told him he was jealous.”

Jaenelle’s mouth fell open. “Lucivar! You told Papa—”

“That the only reason he was mad at me was because you’d invited me to go with you to try out this idea instead of inviting him.”

Her silvery, velvet-coated laugh rang out over the land. “Oh,” she gasped. “Oh, that was mean. What did he say?”

Lucivar laughed with her. “He just gave me that stare that will burn holes through bone, then threw me out of his study. He hasn’t said a thing about it since then.”

“Poor Papa.” Jaenelle sighed. “I guess I’ll dress up special tomorrow to make it up to him.”

“You do that, since my wearing a dress won’t do anything for him.”

She looked at him and howled with laughter—which brought an answering roar from behind the cottage.

Great. Any moment now, he’d be trying to explain to a baffled feline Warlord Prince why their Queen was making those funny noises.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaped off the porch, spread his wings, and launched himself skyward.

“L-Lucivar!”

Nope. Fair was fair. He’d dealt with Saetan on his own over the raft, so she could explain her behavior to the “kitty.”

He didn’t let Roxie’s lingering scent spoil his mood when he returned home. Besides, by tomorrow evening, all his female problems might be solved.

SIX

SIX

As she set the brass basket next to the woodpile, Marian felt her back muscles protest and threaten to seize up. Again. Studying the woodpile, she raised one hand and used Craft to lift the pieces of wood and set them in the basket.

Luthvian would criticize and sneer, saying—again—that it was laziness to use Craft for simple things, but Marian didn’t care. Using Craft instead of straining muscles wasn’t laziness, it was practical—especially since her back had seized up once today while she was scrubbing the kitchen floor.

Odd how gentle Luthvian had been when she’d come into the kitchen and found Marian on the floor, unable to get up. At that moment, she had been all Healer, skilled and efficient. But the quiet words she’d said as she eased the pain were the same ones she’d been saying—the useless wings were causing the back pain. Removing them was the only way Marian would fully heal.

Since she wouldn’t let Luthvian remove her wings, she couldn’t say anything about the chores that made her back hurt. She knew the wounds had been healed, but when she ached, she could close her eyes and mentally trace every knife slash the Warlords had inflicted.