If the males in Terreille had known about that part of Protocol, they might have been able to keep the behavior of Dorothea’s pet Queens in check, might have been able to keep the younger strong witches safe and whole, might have found a way to fight the threats of slavery and castration that had made most of the males too afraid to challenge the witches in power.

But something—or someone—must have purged the sections about male power from the books of Protocol in Terreille so long ago that no one had remembered they existed.

No wonder Terreilleans found living in Kaeleer such a shock. And now it finally made sense why immigrants from Terreille were required to serve in a court. They would need that time to absorb the new rules and understand how those rules applied to day-to-day living.

Which made him even more curious to observe the formal give-and-take between a Queen and the male triangle.

Assuming, of course, the Queen was going to show up.

“Did anyone tell Cat she’s supposed to be here?” Lucivar asked, echoing Daemon’s thought.

Saetan gave Lucivar a bland look. “I told her. However, Lord Ladvarian had already cornered her to discuss a couple of things. I expect she’ll be along as soon as she can talk herself around whatever he and Kaelas have in mind.” That bland look was then aimed at Daemon.

Daemon met that look with one equally bland while his heart rate kicked up to a gallop—because he had the distinct feeling that whatever Ladvarian and Kaelas wanted to discuss with Jaenelle had to do with him.

He was trying to think of a reasonable excuse to drag Lucivar into the great hall for a minute to ask him why the kindred were so interested in the Consort when Jaenelle rushed into the room.

“Sorry I’m—” She checked when she saw them, and her rush suddenly became cautious. “Is this family or court?” she asked warily.

“Court,” Saetan replied.

Fascinated, Daemon watched the subtle shift from woman to Queen.

“And what is the court’s pleasure?” Jaenelle asked quietly.

No hint of a sneer or sarcasm in her voice, Daemon decided as he recognized one of the ritual openings for discussion.

“I received a message from Lord Jorval,” Saetan said with equal calm, although his eyes seemed a little too carefully blank. “A person from a prestigious aristo family has come to Kaeleer seeking the assistance of a Healer for an illness that has baffled all the Healers in Terreille. Since you’re known to be the best Healer in the Realm, he urgently requests that you come to Goth to offer your opinion.”

Lucivar snarled quietly but viciously. A small, but sharp, hand gesture from Andulvar silenced him.