“What do you want me to say?” Saetan asked. “Do I think Daemon is entitled to his fury? I certainly do. Do I think his punishment was just? I’ve already said so. In fact, his solution probably will do nothing more than buy a little time for him to confirm what he already suspects about Rhea’s friend. I doubt she’ll live all that much longer. If Daemon doesn’t kill her, another Warlord Prince will.”

“I understand that he’s uneasy about another woman being so attracted to him that she acts foolishly, but—”

“Take off the blinders, Jaenelle,” Saetan snapped. “You’re being obtuse about this because it’s you and Daemon, and because of how he responded last spring when that witch tried to eliminate you in order to have him. But if Lucivar had found another woman in his bed, trying to play this particular game, and had shrugged the incident off instead of doing something about her, you would have pinned him to a wall, either as his Queen—”

“Former Queen,” Jaenelle said.

“—or as his sister. And before you use ‘former’ in front of ‘Queen’ again, Lady, I suggest you review what the term ‘life-time contract’ means.”

She blinked. Shifted her weight from one hip to the other. Frowned at him. “You’re really feeling pissy about this.”

Insulted because the word “pissy” dismissed his feelings in a way he wouldn’t tolerate, he let his temper slip from its sheath, sharp and lethal. He pushed away from the sofa, allowing himself one slash of power to relieve some of the rage.

Jaenelle pressed her lips together and studied the pile of ash that, moments before, had been a sofa.

“My apologies, High Lord,” she said quietly. “Please tell me what I’m not seeing.”

The formality of the words no longer made this discussion personal. He appreciated that. He didn’t want to fight with his daughter, but he was more than willing to enlighten his Queen.

“First,” he said as he prowled in front of the destroyed sofa, “you’re forgetting that when Daemon was a pleasure slave, the kind of gathering Rhea had arranged at her country house had been his hunting ground. Better than anyone else there, he would have recognized another hunter.”

“Hunter.” She didn’t make it a question, which could be interpreted as doubt, but her tone asked for confirmation.