This morning he would introduce her to the other Warlord Princes. One hundred men, including Theran. All that was left of their caste after the Queens’ purges had taken so many men who wouldn’t bend to Dorothea’s vision of the Blood. The landen uprisings that had started after Dorothea’s taint had been cleansed from the Realms had taken even more. There must be boys in that caste who weren’t included in that number, but she suspected they were hidden somewhere and were being trained in secret—and were not something she could ask about until she had gained the adult males’ trust.

One hundred Warlord Princes. How was she supposed to choose the twelve males required to make a First Circle?

Jaenelle, thank the Darkness, had offered an answer.

“You don’t choose the males who serve,” Jaenelle had said. “They choose you. Cassie, the total failure of your First Circle was as much your fault as theirs. You accepted those men because they said they wanted to serve, but their reasons for wanting it had nothing to do with you. You chose with your head instead of letting your instincts as a Queen make the decisions.”

“If I hadn’t chosen with my head, there would have been no court, and that village wouldn’t have had a Queen.”

Jaenelle’s sapphire eyes stared at her, into her. “They would have survived without a Queen living within their village borders. That village became available because the old District Queen no longer wanted to rule more than her home village. The other three Blood villages under her rule could have gone to one Queen instead of being divided.”

“But that Queen wouldn’t have been me.”

“No, it wouldn’t have been you. Dharo has a strong Territory Queen and strong Province Queens. The Blood there can be more indulgent in their choice of District Queens. They didn’t need someone like you, Cassidy.”

Jaenelle’s words stung, more so because she’d expected a little sympathy to balance out their before-dinner “chat.”

“They expect me to choose,” Cassidy said. “How do I choose if I’m not supposed to choose?”

Jaenelle smiled. While the now-apparent sympathy was the tonic Cassidy needed to soothe her bruised feelings, the equally apparent amusement made her nervous.