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Across the room, doors had been propped open to the sunny morning. They led to the terrace that looked out over the Queen’s private walled garden. Hearing male voices outside, she walked over to the doors and looked out.

  The Wyr lord sat at table, chatting easily with another tall figure of a man who was, by weight of his office alone, imposing in his own right. Chancellor Aubrey Riordan was one of the triad that formed the Dark Fae government, along with the Queen and the Commander of the Dark Fae army, Fafnir Orin. The Chancellor lounged in his chair facing the morning sun as he cradled a steaming cup of tea.

  There was absolutely no question of Riordan’s pure Dark Fae blood. He had strong, intelligent patrician features and light gray eyes that shone like clear water in sunlight. His long raven hair was bound back in a simple queue and gleamed blue-black in the bright light, his pointed ears elegantly shaped.

  In contrast to his hair, his skin was ivory pale. While he did not have the Wyr lord’s outsized physique, his long lean frame was muscled with graceful power. His eyes were narrowed in the sunlight, which revealed crow’s feet at their corners, and a few strands of white hair gleamed at his temples. Riordan was not a young Fae, but a male in his full maturity of Power.

  As she saw him, a sweet pain like a stiletto coated in honey slipped between Xanthe’s ribs and pierced her heart. It was the same pain she always felt whenever she saw him. Like a silly child with her toys, for years she had gathered the snippets she heard about his life and hoarded them close.

  Servants always knew the truth about their masters’ true nature. What all the servants said about Riordan was that he was kind and even tempered. He never expressed frustration with a blow or a harsh word. One of the most powerful men in Adriyel, he held onto that power lightly and used it with care. For someone like Xanthe, who had rarely known kindness, he sounded as foreign and exotic as the Wyr lord who now kept him company.

  The events of the last year had been cataclysmic for the Dark Fae, and also for Riordan himself. The despot Dark Fae King Urien had been killed by Dragos Cuelebre, the Lord of the Wyr, and with his death, at first it seemed there was no clear heir to the throne. For a short time, it had been whispered that Riordan, who was a distant relative in the Lorelle line, might be crowned king.

  Then Niniane Lorelle, the true heir and Urien’s niece, came out of hiding. She had been living in America ever since Urien and a handful of nobles had killed her father, King Rhian, and the rest of her family in a bloody palace coup.

  Riordan had been married then, to a noble woman named Naida who had not accepted Niniane’s claim to the throne, and who had tried a couple of times to have her assassinated. Instead Naida herself had been killed and her coconspirators incarcerated when the plot had been uncovered.

  When that had happened something light inside of Riordan had darkened. Xanthe had seen it whenever she caught a glimpse of him on the palace grounds. He looked set, withdrawn, the expression in his gaze bleak and bitter. Whenever she thought of what his wife had done, she felt a useless fury at the woman who had been a traitor and a killer, and who with her actions had wounded such a decent man.

  The moment Xanthe appeared in the doorway, Tiago turned his head and so did Riordan. She dropped her gaze. “My lords.”

  “There you are,” said Tiago. “You must have gotten my message just after dawn.” He put a booted foot on one chair and pushed it outward in her direction. “Sit and eat. Niniane will join us shortly.”

  Disconcerted, she lowered her head. “Thank you, my l—sir. That’s very good of you, but I couldn’t do that.”

  “Oh, you Fae and your social rules,” said Tiago. He sounded exasperated. “Get over yourself, soldier. Plant your ass down here and eat some breakfast. That’s an order.”

  Startled, her head came up. Before she could help herself, she looked at Riordan.

  He smiled at her, his expression warm, and gestured to the chair Tiago had pushed out from the table. “You heard your employer,” said the Chancellor. “Sit and help yourself to some food.”

  She couldn’t help but stare. He looked different somehow than he had before she had left, less bitter in repose. Perhaps time was healing the wound that his wife had dealt him.

  She took a deep breath and walked over to sit gingerly. She kept her gaze on her task as she did as she was ordered and helped herself to some of the breakfast on the table. There were boiled eggs, honey and berry pastries, fresh fruit and grilled venison. The bread and cheese she had eaten earlier seemed to have vanished completely, and her stomach rumbled. She tightened the muscles in her abdomen, hoping nobody had noticed.

  She started to eat, and the two men resumed talking as if she wasn’t there.

  “You should have mentioned something about the lawsuit sooner,” Tiago said.

  After a slight hesitation, Riordan said, “I disagree. It’s my issue to resolve. At any rate, nothing will happen in a hurry. The suit will likely drag on for years.”

  Everything in Xanthe went quiet. Riordan was involved in some kind of legal dispute? It was news to her, so it must have happened while she had been away. Unwilling to show any reaction to what was obviously none of her business, she had to make a conscious decision to keep eating as she listened.

  “There’s no merit in the accusations,” said Tiago. “You had no knowledge of what Naida was doing, and you weren’t involved.”

  Riordan said cynically, “It doesn’t matter whether or not we know that the case has any merit. The pursuant always has plenty of time to present their case and whatever they claim as true findings. That’s simply how the Dark Fae justice system works. What you and Niniane achieved when you tried and executed the conspirators involved in the coup that killed her family was highly unusual, and that was because it involved the Queen herself, imprisonment of powerful nobility and high treason.”

  “Naida’s family is claiming you were treasonous,” Tiago said.

  “Not quite treason, in the legal sense,” said Riordan. “Niniane had not yet been crowned. The best they can hope for is a charge of conspiracy. Since I was so much older than Naida and she was so young when we married, and all of Naida’s crimes were supposedly on my behalf, they’re claiming that I exerted ‘undue influence’ over her. Anyway, as you know only the government can instigate criminal cases. Since this is a personal suit and not an affair of the crown, the only thing they can hope to gain is monetary compensation.”

  “So they’re being greedy,” said Tiago after a moment.

  “Yes,” said Riordan flatly. “And to be brutally fair, they’re also angry and they’ve suffered a loss, not only in terms of family but also their reputation.”

  “Well, the person they should be angry with is dead, and there isn’t any evidence you had anything to do with it. I had you investigated myself.”

  “Of course you did,” said Riordan. “I would have had me investigated as well.”

  Xanthe swallowed carefully, the food threatening to lodge in her throat. As she hadn’t been involved in any investigating, that was more news to her. But as she considered it, she couldn’t say she was surprised.

  The Queen meant the world to the Wyr lord, and he was one of the most dangerous men she had ever met. He would have left no stone unturned in his investigation of Riordan. Even if he had not found any evidence, if he had the slightest suspicion that Riordan might have been involved in something that could potentially harm the Queen, Riordan was a dead man.

  Having just killed a man herself on the Wyr lord’s orders, she should know.

  Chapter Two

  Law

  At first the silent woman in the soldier’s uniform hadn’t interested Aubrey, other than he took note of how openly Tiago talked in front of her.

  Although Tiago and Niniane never flaunted anything in public, they were a love match. The Wyr was obsessed with anything to do with his mate, and her safety and wellbeing. If Tiago relaxed and talked in front of this woman, then Aubrey could too.

  Gradually, though
, the woman’s very silence drew Aubrey’s attention. He glanced at her from time to time, noting various details, how precisely and smoothly she cut her food, the utter expressionlessness in her face, how she never looked up once from her meal. She embodied polite distance, her entire demeanor proclaiming that an invisible wall existed between her and the two men.

  A patter of quick, light footsteps sounded on the terrace flagstones, and Tiago’s harsh, forbidding features lit up. The woman shot to her feet and stood at attention. Aubrey and Tiago stood at a more leisurely pace as Niniane Lorelle, the Dark Fae Queen swept into their presence, chatting as she came toward them.

  “Sorry I am late—oh good, you didn’t wait for me. Good morning, Aubrey.”

  “Good morning, my dear.” He bent his head to receive Niniane’s kiss on the cheek.

  She was dressed for personal comfort rather than for state, in simple dark tunic and leggings. She was dainty in every way, and while she wasn’t precisely beautiful, she had a warmth and effervescence that could always banish the darkness in Aubrey’s soul, at least for a while. She was the child of his long dead friends, and the only Lorelle left alive, and he had grown to love her like he would if she were his own daughter.

  Still talking, she moved around the table to Tiago. “Hello, darling.” Niniane lifted her face for Tiago’s kiss, which he delivered to her mouth with relish. “I’ve just come from the nursery. I wanted to check on the girl. She is adorable, but she still won’t say anything about where she came from or who she really is, and she insists that her name is Mouse.”

  “At least she’s talking to you and the nurse,” said Tiago. “She wouldn’t say a word to me. I frightened her too much.”

  Niniane gave him a wry grimace. “The nearest I can tell, she has got to be around six years old. Given how ingrained the dirt was on her, and how matted her hair, I think it’s possible she might have lived on the streets for some time. If that’s the case, I think she might have changed into her cat form and stayed that way to survive. I sent someone this morning to Chicago to do some investigating. For all we know, there might be pictures of her on milk cartons.” Her expression turned troubled. “I suppose we shouldn’t keep her, should we?”

  Tiago shook his head, his face gentling. “No, faerie. It would not be fair to a young Wyr to be fostered among the Dark Fae. Housecat Wyr have life spans akin to humans. That would not matter at first, but eventually she would grow old while everyone she grew to care about would not. She needs a good home with her own kind.”

  Niniane’s shoulders drooped. “I knew that,” she muttered. “I just needed to hear you say it to me.”

  As the two talked, Aubrey glanced at the soldier again. Hands tucked behind her back, she regarded her half eaten plate of food as though it was the only thing in the world of interest to her. A corner of Aubrey’s mouth lifted. She was really quite good.

  “Sit down,” said Tiago. “I’ll order fresh tea and hot food for you.”

  “No, don’t bother,” said Niniane. “This is all fine.” She turned to face the silent woman with a friendly grin. “So you’re the one who kidnapped a little Wyr girl?”

  The woman’s façade broke. She moved, looked up and took in a deep breath as color flooded her skin, and after such a long display of perfect, polite disinterest, the look of dismay on her face startled a quiet chuckle out of Aubrey.

  “Yes, your grace, I am,” said the woman. “I am terribly sorry.”

  She looked more than sorry; she looked so mortified even Tiago grinned.

  “Don’t be,” said Niniane. “Your ‘kidnapping’ might have saved her life.” She sat and helped herself to breakfast while Tiago poured her a cup of tea. “What have I missed?”

  Aubrey and Tiago sat too. The woman remained standing until Tiago shot her a frowning glance. Then she sat as well, although she did not touch any more of her food. Tiago said, “Aubrey and I were discussing a suit that Naida’s family has filed against him.”

  “Yes, I learned of it this morning when my secretary briefed me,” said the Queen, her voice turning cool. “I have already sent a dismissal to Justice Kellen for the court.”

  The woman’s reactions, or lack of, had begun to fascinate Aubrey, so he was looking at her when Niniane spoke. He watched a subtle, strange expression flare in her dark gray eyes. Oddly, it appeared to be relief mingled with satisfaction, but he must be mistaken. Then the meaning of Niniane’s words caught up with him, and he set his cup down gently as he turned to the Queen.

  The monarchy had every right to dismiss cases and issue pardons, but in actuality this was done so rarely that the action carried a great deal of weight. The dismissal would be highly public by the end of the day and a great humiliation to Naida’s family.

  He said, “While I am both touched and honored by your show of faith, I had thought Naida’s family’s anger might run its course during the length of the suit.”

  Tiago said, much more bluntly, “Are you sure you want to do that, faerie?”

  “Yes, I am quite sure,” said Niniane. She snapped a delicate bite of food off of her fork then pointed her fork at Aubrey. “You are Chancellor by my appointment. Naida’s attempt was on my life, and I assure you, we investigated that quite thoroughly. For months that was almost the only thing Tiago and I talked about, along with the investigation of Urien’s conspirators.”

  “I can attest to that,” Tiago said.

  Niniane stabbed her fork in the air, eyes sparking with anger. “At best their case against you would have been full of supposition and resentment, and at worst, full of fabrication. That suit was not just a slap in the face to you, Aubrey. It was a slap in the face to me. I will not have my people harassed. I will not have my judgments questioned like that. The dismissal is the best thing that could have happened for them, because if they were allowed to continue and if they were foolish enough to present false evidence, I would order the courts to prosecute them. If they think their lives are ruined now, it would be nothing compared to what would happen to them then.”

  Silence fell over the table. Tiago’s expression was filled with, yes, amusement and indulgence, but also genuine admiration and respect. The woman who was his soldier watched the Queen with sparkling eyes, while Niniane continued to point her fork at Aubrey, eyebrows raised.

  Aubrey cleared his throat. “Since you put it that way, thank you for your championship.”

  She smiled at him. “You’re welcome. Now, onto something else.” She looked at the soldier sitting opposite her. “Your name is Xanthe, is that correct? Tiago tells me you have a tale to tell.”

  Aubrey watched the woman glance at him then at Tiago, who nodded. “Speak freely,” he told her.

  She nodded and took a breath. “My assignment has been completed. Cieran Thruvial is dead. He died in a place called Devil’s Gate in Nevada, where we went after we had crossed over to America.”

  The place name was unfamiliar to Aubrey but he wasn’t surprised at that. He watched as Niniane and Tiago gave each other a long look.

  Tiago murmured, “It’s finally done. The last of them have been brought to justice.”

  “We can look to the future now,” Niniane said. They shared an intimate smile. Then Niniane turned back to Xanthe. “I’ve never heard of this place.”

  “Devil’s Gate is new since your grace has come to Adriyel,” said Xanthe. “A—a tent city, they call it, although many of the structures are not tents. Some are vehicles called RVs. Others are buildings they called Quonset and there are also temporary office spaces made of metal. Close to two hundred thousand people, both humankind and Elder Races, are there now looking for magic sensitive silver and gold.”

  “There’s a modern day gold rush going on, and I didn’t know anything about it?” Niniane sounded dismayed.

  “You need more sleep than I do,” Tiago said to her. “I’ve been following the stories in the newspapers.”

  Niniane muttered, “We have got to start spending some time each year
in Chicago, especially now that we’ve opened our borders.”

  “Agreed,” said Tiago. He told Xanthe, “Continue.”

  She said, “The place is—crowded and chaotic. Lord Thruvial thought he could relax in some relative anonymity there. He was well away from Adriyel’s politics and the trials of all the other conspirators. He believed that since you could not find enough evidence of his involvement in the overthrow and murder of your father and family that he would not be pursued further.”

  Aubrey looked steadily across the table at the deadly face of the man who sat opposite him. Thruvial had not only been a pig, but an idiot.

  Xanthe said, “Since I was the most junior of his triad, for a long time I was not allowed to perform any of the more intimate tasks of service to him, like serving him food and drink or helping him to dress.”

  “She was in his household for months,” Tiago told Aubrey. “It never fails to surprise me how assholes like Thruvial insist on Dark Fae traditions like keeping triads of personal servants, but then they can turn around and murder their own king.”

  Triads were found throughout all aspects of the Dark Fae daily life, from the highest place in government to fighting formations and servant clusters. Often in society, married couples brought a third sex partner to the marriage bed, although Aubrey had never felt inclined to do so.

  He gave Tiago a dark smile. “That is not inconsistent, my friend. Our traditions of violence, jealousy, revenge, and making and breaking political alliances, go deeper than any triad.”

  Tiago snorted. “Point.” He said to Xanthe, “So Thruvial finally relaxed and let you get close enough.”

  “Yes, but even so, I had to wait for the right moment to act so that it could not be traced back to me. When the opportunity finally came, I poisoned his wine.” Her voice was composed and steady. “He died quickly. Unfortunately that was not the end of it.”

  Aubrey settled back in his chair, watching her face as she told the story. There were odd, intriguing freckles, light like sprinkles of gold, on her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were unusual too, a deep, rich color full of shadows and mystery. Her face was gently planed, with high cheekbones and a narrow rounded jaw. Now that he came to really study her, he realized she had a shockingly sensual mouth. She would never be considered one of the high beauties of the Dark Fae, but she did have her own particular attractiveness.