“I don’t know.” He hesitated—and wondered why he hesitated. “A man I knew was with her at the time. A few years before his death, he sent a message to me that he had made a written account of the ‘adventure’ and had left it for me in a safe place. She was a good Queen, the last Queen to hold Dorothea at bay. He wanted her remembered.”

Jaenelle leaped at him, grabbed him. “Then you do know how she did it!”

“No, I don’t know. I never picked up the written account. I decided to leave it where it was, out of Dorothea’s reach.”

“Do you think you could find it?” Jaenelle asked anxiously.

“That shouldn’t be difficult,” Daemon replied dryly as he wrapped his arms around her, suddenly needing to touch her. “He left it with the Keep’s librarian.”

“I retrieved it from the Terreillean Keep the first time you came to Ebon Askavi with Jaenelle,” Geoffrey said as he handed Daemon a carefully wrapped parcel. “I wondered at the time why you didn’t ask for it. What made you think of it now?”

The question sounded innocently curious, but there wasn’t anything innocent about it.

Looking straight into Geoffrey’s black eyes, Daemon smiled. “I just remembered it.”

He didn’t unwrap it, didn’t look at it. He probed it just enough to make sure there weren’t any spells hidden in it that would be triggered if someone besides him handled it. Then he gave it to Jaenelle and spent the next several hours denying access to the Queen to just about every member of the First Circle. That had caused hard feelings but was easy enough. No one but the Steward, the Master of the Guard, and the Consort were permitted free access to the Queen’s chambers. Lucivar had taken one look at him and had retreated. Stalling Saetan and Andulvar had been much more difficult, and he sensed it wouldn’t take many more polite confrontations to erode their trust in him. Considering Jaenelle’s behavior lately, he could appreciate their concern. It still hurt.

When he finally returned to her, he found her in her sitting room, her arms wrapped around herself, staring bleakly out the window.

“It didn’t help?” he asked softly, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder.

“Actually, it did. I found the answer. I can’t do the same thing they did, but I can use it as the foundation for what I need to do.”

She turned and kissed him with a desperation that frightened him, but he gave her what she needed. For hours, he gave her what she needed.

When she was finally content just to lie wrapped in his arms, she said, “I love you.” And fell asleep.

Despite being physically and emotionally exhausted, Daemon lay awake a long time—and wondered why “I love you” sounded so much like “good-bye.”

6 / Kaeleer