So no matter what Lady Cassidy did or said, if she complained about him, he would be in the wrong.

The only good thing about Cassidy snapping at him this morning was the look on Gray’s face. Maybe his cousin would start to realize Cassidy wasn’t so wonderful after all.

“No need to be pointing the way,” a rough voice said. “When her temper is on the boil, the girl sounds just like her mother.”

Cassidy’s eyes widened with a strange kind of apprehension. “Poppi?” she said as she turned toward the terrace doors and looked at the burly stranger. “Poppi?”

“Hello, Kitten.”

The look on her face as she launched herself at the man, who hugged her hard enough to lift her off her feet.

I’ve never seen her happy, Theran thought, feeling uncomfortable about that realization because he might be partly to blame.

*Who is he?* Gray asked as he joined Theran on the edge of the terrace.

The psychic communication startled Theran since Gray used it so rarely.

*I don’t know,* Theran replied. *But he seems to know her well.*

A flash of something from Gray, gone too fast to identify.

The man set Cassidy down, then smiled broadly as he ran his hands down her arms. But his smile faded as he held her hands, his thumbs brushing her palms. Sadness clouded his face as he looked at her hands.

“Poppi . . . ,” Cassidy began.

“No,” he said firmly. “It’s best if we not have words about this.” He nodded as if he’d made some decision. “Yes, I think it’s best.”

Theran caught sight of Ranon coming up behind the stranger and figured it was time to do his duty as First Escort before Ranon did it for him. So he said, “Lady?” in a tone that politely demanded information.

“Oh.” Looking flustered, Cassidy linked her arm with the stranger’s and turned to face him. “Poppi, this is Prince Theran Grayhaven, my First Escort. And that’s his cousin, Gray.” She looked over her shoulder. “And that’s Prince Ranon.”

“Gentlemen,” the man said, touching two fingers to the brim of an old brown hat.

Certainly doesn’t look worried about facing Warlord Princes, Theran thought.

“Prince Theran, gentlemen, this is my father, Lord Burle.”

Theran saw Gray’s eyes widen.

“Your father’s come to visit?” Gray asked.

“Yes,” Cassidy said.

“Not exactly,” Burle said. Letting go of Cassidy, he pulled a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to Cassidy.

She opened it, read it—and just stared at it until Theran wanted to rip it out of her hands and find out what in the name of Hell was going on.

“I don’t understand,” Cassidy finally said.

“Seems clear enough,” Burle said.

“I asked Prince Sadi to send a bed, a dresser, and a bookcase,” Cassidy said.