“It’s simple,” Jaenelle said. “You stand in front of them and let them all get a look at you. Say something so they can hear your voice. Then you wait. Many are going to feel disappointed—and some will feel bitter about it because they don’t realize it’s part of forming a court. For most of them, you won’t be the right Queen to serve—at least not in the First Circle. They’ll need to look at the other Queens. But the ones who belong to you . . . You may not recognize it immediately, since you’ve never felt it, but they’ll know. Some will approach you and look relaxed or relieved because they’ve finally found something they’ve needed. Others will be wary when they approach because they aren’t sure if they can trust the instincts that are pushing them to hand over their lives and surrender to your rule. As each man approaches, look him in the eyes. If something inside you says, ‘This one belongs to me,’ then he does.”

“I don’t want a First Circle filled with Warlord Princes,” Cassidy said.

“That’s not your choice,” Jaenelle replied. “And, really, they’re sweet men once you get past the bossiness and temper. I wouldn’t expect more than half the First Circle to be filled with Warlord Princes, but they get to offer themselves before the other castes of males.”

“Warlords would be good,” Cassidy muttered. Her four months in the Dark Court had shown her the advantages—and disadvantages—of having so many dominating males working together. Warlords didn’t tend to argue as much about everything. Of course, the Warlord Princes in the Dark Court didn’t exactly argue. They just set their heels down and didn’t budge from their opinion.

“Oh, one other thing about Warlord Princes,” Jaenelle said just before they rejoined the men. “The ones that belong to you will want to sniff your neck. Don’t make a fuss about it.”

“Sniff my neck?” Cassidy muttered, turning away from the window when someone knocked on the door. “Come in.”

Birdie, the maid assigned to clean her suite, entered with a hesitant smile and a breakfast tray.

“Good morning, Lady Cassidy,” Birdie said. “The Warlord Princes are gathering to meet you, so Maydra—she’s the cook—thought you might like to have your breakfast in peace. And thought you might be feeling a bit nervous in the stomach.”

An undercurrent of fear beneath the words.

She’d been tired last night, and distressed by Theran’s attitude toward her as well as by some of the things Jaenelle had said, but now that she thought about it, that same undercurrent had been in Dryden, the butler, and Elle, the housekeeper, as well. They had been hired because they had experience working around a Queen’s court, but they, and the other servants, were all afraid.