Surreal grabbed two fistfuls of her long tunic to keep from belting him. Fool. Idiot. He should be grateful it wasn’t worse.

“It’s not an insult,” Lucivar replied mildly. “It’s fair. You made a mistake, Falonar. Some reparation has to be made for it. You acted, but you also hamstrung yourself by being too cautious.”

“I realize what my caution could have cost.”

“Yes, you do. Which is why the discipline is fair.” Lucivar’s mouth curved in a lazy, arrogant smile. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll stand extra guard duty plenty more times before you’ve been here a year. I certainly did.”

Falonar stared at him. “You?”

The smile sharpened. “Hard to believe that I would err on the side of caution, isn’t it? But I wanted to stay in Kaeleer, and I wanted to serve my Queen, so I kept my temper leashed as much as possible—for me. And ended up in that study, facing those two, more times than I care to count.” Lucivar paused. “This is Kaeleer. Here, a Warlord Prince’s temper is considered an asset to a court.”

Falonar took a moment to digest this. Then, courteously, “Extra guard duty doesn’t seem like much when a witch could have died.”

“Well, there is another part to your…discipline,” Lucivar said. He tipped his head toward Surreal. “You get to cope with her until sunrise. Since she looks like she’s going to break her teeth unless she gets to yell at a male, it might as well be you.” The smile got even sharper. “Of course, you could always offer to warm her bed and see if that buys you any leniency.”

Falonar choked. Surreal made a sound like a teakettle ready to boil over.

“You consider spending a night with me a form of discipline?” Surreal shouted. “You prick. You…I would call it a reward!”

Lucivar shrugged. “Please yourself. Just keep in mind that, if you both decide to extend this ‘discipline’ past tonight, you have to have formal permission from the Steward of the Court. He agreed to overlook that formality until sunrise, but not after that. And this is an area where it isn’t wise to push Saetan’s temper.”

After he left them, Surreal and Falonar eyed each other.

“It would seem that I didn’t keep my…interest…in being with you as…restrained…as I had thought since Lucivar noticed it,” Falonar said.

Or the High Lord did, Surreal thought. As family patriarch and sexual chaperon, she didn’t think much got past that man.

“So,” Falonar said warily. “Are you going to yell at me?”

Surreal smiled at him. “Well, sugar, I may not yell at you. With the right incentive, I may just yell.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

1 / Kaeleer

Lord Jorval settled into a chair in Kartane SaDiablo’s sitting room. “Your meeting with the Healer has been delayed.”