Tricks and lies. He’d said Jaenelle had been seven, but how old had she really been when the High Lord first started whispering his sweetly poisoned lies into a child’s ear. Perhaps he had even created illusions of unicorns and dragons that looked real enough to be convincing. Maybe the uneasy way Jaenelle had sometimes made her feel had really been an aftertaste of him and not the child herself.

She couldn’t deny that horrors had been done at Briarwood. But had those men done those things by choice or had an unseen puppet master been pulling the strings? She had experienced Daemon Sadi’s cruelty. Wasn’t it likely that his father had refined his taste for it? Had all that pain and suffering been caused in order to make one particular child so vulnerable she became emotionally dependent on these men?

Dorothea had been right. The High Lord was a monster. Sitting there, Alexandra was certain of only one thing: she would do whatever she had to in order to get Wilhelmina and Jaenelle away from him.

He felt Daemon’s hands slide up his shoulder blades, then settle on his shoulders a moment before those strong, slender fingers began kneading tight muscles.

“Did you tell her Jaenelle is Witch?” Daemon asked softly.

Saetan took a sip of yarbarah, the blood wine, then closed his eyes to better savor the feel of tension and anger draining away as Daemon coaxed his muscles to relax. “No,” he finally said. “I told her Jaenelle was the Queen, which should have been enough, but…”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Daemon said. “That last night, at the Winsol party, when I finally understood what Briarwood really was, I had intended to tell Alexandra about Jaenelle. I’d convinced myself that she would help me get Jaenelle away from Chaillot.”

“But you didn’t tell her.”

Daemon’s hands paused, then started working on another group of knotted muscles. “I overheard her tell another woman that Witch was only a symbol for the Blood, but if the living myth did appear, she hoped someone would have the courage to strangle it in its cradle.”

A bolt of anger flashed through Saetan, but he couldn’t tell if it was his or Daemon’s. “Mother Night, how I hate that woman.”

“Philip and Leland aren’t exactly innocent.”

“No, they’re not, but they only follow Alexandra’s lead both as their Queen and the family matriarch. She accused me of spinning lies to ensnare Jaenelle, but how many lies did they tell by cloaking them in the conviction of truth?” He made a sound that might have been a bitter laugh. “I can tell you how many. I’ve had years to observe the emotional scars their words left on her.”

“And what happens when she finds out they’re here?”

“We’ll deal with that when it comes.”