“The Lady changed her mind,” Saetan said formally to the Territory Queens who made up the coven. “You and the males in the First Circle are to remain at the Keep, but the other Queens in your Territories may stay where they are.”

“Why are we required to stay?” Chaosti demanded. “Our people are dying. We should be home, preparing to fight.”

“Why did she change her mind?” Morghann asked. “What did she say when you asked her?”

Saetan hesitated. “The instructions were relayed by the Consort.”

He felt their flickers of anger and their growing suspicion about Daemon. Worse, he had those same feelings.

“The Queen commands,” he said, knowing how inadequate that sounded when they were all receiving reports of fighting in their homelands.

“That’s fine, High Lord,” Aaron said coolly. “The Queen commands. But, obviously, no one has informed the kindred of that fact. None of them who are members of the First Circle have to stay at the Keep.”

They all looked at each other as that realization sank in. But it was Karla who finally asked, “Where are the kindred?”

Saetan watched the drops of rain trickle down the window.

When Jaenelle had given the order for all the Queens to come to the Keep, he hadn’t protested for one reason: Sylvia. He had wanted her in the Keep where she would be safe.

But now that Jaenelle had changed her mind—or had had it changed for her—he would issue his own orders as the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan and summon all the Dhemlan Queens to the Hall. It was a risk. The Hall didn’t have the defenses the Keep had. No place had the defenses the Keep had. But it had been designed to withstand attack, and its defenses were better than anywhere else the Queens might be forced to retreat if the fighting escalated. And it was big enough that the Queens could bring their families with them, bring their children.

He wanted her safe. And her boys, too, Mikal and Beron.

Sassy, opinionated, lovely Sylvia. Mother Night, he loved her.

Even after he realized that the potency of Jaenelle’s tonic after she had made the Offering to the Darkness had brought back the hunger of a man—and the ability to satisfy it—he might have resisted becoming Sylvia’s lover, might have found the strength to remain just a friend if he hadn’t sensed the hurt in her that her last Consort had inflicted. She had shut herself away from sexual pleasure, hadn’t been intrigued enough by any man to try again—until she had become friends with him.