Remembering how their chess game had ended, he abandoned that line of attack and chose another. “Was this some kind of game?” he demanded. “The little witch decided to masquerade as a grown-up, go to Raej, and buy a few slaves for fun?”

“Not for fun,” she snapped. “For the Gray Lady.”

“For the Gray Lady. Of course. How could I forget? Do you even know her? Or was that the best disguise you could think of?”

“Of course I know her.” She raised her chin and glared at him. “I’m in her First Circle.”

Jared narrowed his green eyes. A young, talented witch might serve in a Territory Queen’s First Circle in order to receive special training before ruling a Province or District on that Queen’s behalf. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-seven.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. If the little witch wanted to play games, he’d play games.

He raked his eyes over her in a way that couldn’t be interpreted as anything but an insult. “I’d guess fifteen. Maybe sixteen.”

“I’m twenty-one!”

She sounded too outraged to be lying.

“And with the Gray Lady’s consent, you went trotting off to Raej, pretending to be a Gray-Jeweled Queen.” He shook his head and tsked. “Not a very sporting thing for a Queen to ask of a young protégée . . . unless, of course, she was trying to eliminate a rival.”

Her eyes glittered with suppressed fury, but her voice became dismissively chilly. “I told you everything you need to know.”

He studied her for a moment. That she’d taken an insult to the Gray Lady personally was a strong indication that she was a member of the First Circle—or at least a member of the court. And, perhaps, telling the truth.

He saw her shiver and leashed his temper. What was wrong with him that he was fighting with her when she needed attention? His father would have skinned him for neglecting his duties for such an indulgence.

Stepping away from the door, Jared reached for her coat. “I’ll help you get out of those wet clothes.”

“No,” she said quickly, her hands clutching the front of the coat and tunic, holding them closed. She pressed her back against the storage boxes, her body tensing as he bent over her. “I can manage.”

Jared closed his hand over one of her ice-cold fists and tugged gently. “You’re cold, exhausted, bruised, and can’t even stand up without falling over. According to all the rules my father thumped into my stubborn head, this is exactly the sort of circumstance when a Queen should put aside her pride and let someone help her.”

He tugged again. Her fist tightened.

He tried dredging up the smile that used to charm Reyna into giving him an extra nutcake.

She stared at him as if he’d grown fangs.

“Hell’s fire, Lady,” Jared growled as he tried to loosen her hands. “This can’t be the first time a man has offered to undress you.”