“I’ll take that,” said Holt, one of the footmen who had carried out the other trays.

Jazen glanced at Daemon, handed the tray to Holt, and made as quick a retreat as possible without actually running.

“Looks like breakfast is being served out here,” Lucivar said as he eyed the various dishes that were being set out on the table.

Daemon took a deep breath and watched Jaenelle go through the warmup movements. “I should talk to her, explain about Jazen before she passes judgment.”

Lucivar gave him an odd look. “Old son, she just did. She welcomed him to Kaeleer. That’s all anyone needs to know.”

“This way,” Marian said, making a friendly “come on” gesture to Wilhelmina Benedict while she eyed Surreal’s loose-sleeved tunic and trousers. “What are you wearing under the tunic?”

Surreal worked to keep her voice warm. Marian didn’t seem the type to be interested in a former whore’s underwear. “Why?”

“Lucivar will insist that you strip down for the lesson.”

“Strip?” Wilhelmina said. “In front of those men?”

“You don’t want your movements restricted by your clothing,” Marian said kindly. “And you’ll want to put on something dry afterward.”

“I take it I’m going to be sweating,” Surreal said. She glanced at Wilhelmina and wondered if that kind of exercise was a good idea. The young woman looked as pale as water and scared enough to break.

“I don’t think he’ll work the beginners that hard, but you…” Marian’s gold eyes flicked to Surreal’s pointed ears. “You’re Dea al Mon. He may push you harder, just to find out what you can already do.”

“Lucky me,” Surrel muttered as they headed across the lawn toward the other women who were already gathered at the practice circle.

Marian smiled. “My first weapon was the skillet.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Surreal said, returning the smile.

“I’d been working for Lucivar as his housekeeper for about four months. My moon’s blood had started that morning, and I wasn’t feeling well. Looking back, I realize that he must have gone through the other moontimes with his teeth clenched to keep from saying anything. But that morning, he started fussing at me to take it easy, and I took it as a criticism that I couldn’t do my job. I threw a pot at him. Well, not really at him. I didn’t want to hit him, I just felt mad enough that I needed to throw something. It hit the wall about two feet away from where he was standing.

“He looked at the pot for a minute, then picked it up and went outside. I could hear him throwing it, and thought he was doing that instead of using his fists on me the way some Eyrien males would have.