“Hell’s fire, Gray. Do I need to show you a map and point out the village where you were born? A village that’s in Dena Nehele?”

“I didn’t begin there,” Gray said. “I can trace my bloodline to Thera and Blaed on my mother’s side.”

“So can I,” Theran snapped. “Our mothers were sisters, remember?”

“Thera and Blaed came over the Tamanara Mountains with Lia and settled in Dena Nehele.”

“To serve Lia.”

“They put down roots, made a life for themselves here, but they didn’t come from Dena Nehele. Neither did Jared. He came from Shalador. And his people, the ones who came over the mountains to escape the destruction of their Territory . . . Did enough Shalador blood get spilled defending Dena Nehele to entitle the survivors to put down roots?”

“Gray . . .” The thought staggered him—and made him wonder how Ranon would respond to that question.

“I’ll be going with her,” Gray said. “If she’ll have me.”

He’d never heard his cousin talk like this. “What would you do in Dharo?”

Gray shrugged. “I’ll find work. Maybe I could work for Cassie’s father.”

A Purple Dusk Warlord Prince working for a Warlord who wore Tiger Eye? What was Gray thinking?

If he was thinking.

If any part of this was actually Gray’s idea.

Was Cassidy using Gray as a pawn in some kind of game? Wouldn’t be the first time a Queen had used one man in order to chain another.

“Well,” Theran said, rising, “there’s plenty of time to think about all this. Right now, we both need to get cleaned up and properly dressed. For Cassidy’s sake, we want to make a good impression.”

Gray’s eyes flashed with temper, turning a familiar face into a stranger’s. Then the temper faded, and the man looking at him was more like the boy Theran had known during these ten years since Talon rescued Gray.

“Yes,” Gray said, “we want to make a good impression.”

Ebon ASKAVI

Settling on the arm of the sofa, Saetan crossed his arms as he studied his daughter.

“I’m not sure what you’re looking for, witch-child,” he said. He’d listened to Jaenelle’s account of Daemon’s return from the visit to Lady Rhea’s country house, and he heard the concern in her voice. Since he’d already heard Daemon’s report about the incident, he didn’t understand why she was concerned.

“I wasn’t hurt, and Daemon wasn’t hurt,” Jaenelle said. “Don’t you think his . . . punishment . . . is a bit harsh?”

“On the contrary, I think it showed a remarkable amount of self-control.” Maybe too much self-control.

She frowned at him, and he suppressed a sigh of annoyance.