Page 91 of Shadows and Roses

"You can be the fifth son of a distant lord who never comes to court. The rebels were in your father’s land and you want to whip them into shape yourself. Your clawed ladies will help back up the story with made-up titles of their own."

"Staking a claim on my people already?"

"The court will never accept peasants with claws. Do you know what becomes of those who are found after a certain age?"

He scowled. "We know far better than you."

She wondered if any of his clawed women had been forced to murder their own parents. "Then you know they must either stay behind or have a title."

His expression darkened further but his chin dipped. "That’s their choice." His fingers tapped, slower. "Likewise, my people will need to be convinced to surrender themselves into your welcoming arms."

"What do you propose?" She kept the bored amusement out of her words; he clearly had demands prepared.

"There’s a slave camp not far from here, over the eastern border. They took a few of my people a week ago. The traders are still there. We should send a raiding party composed of both our peoples."

Outlawing slavery didn’t prevent other nations’ slavers from poaching on her land. Her army on all borders had standing orders to bring back the victims whenever found. She nodded. "I’ll send a scout first. Should their survey match yours, this is acceptable. What else?"

Damon examined her with a small smile. "You and I will be part of the raid."

Jerome snarled. Anais made a small gesture with her fingers to quiet his protest, then dropped the hand to the table.

"I must agree with my captain. Impossible."

"Afraid your steward will not do so well, after all?"

The eastern border was four nights away. Vern could easily handle the court for another couple of weeks.

"I have already walked into your territory, accepted your hospitality, let myself be surrounded and outnumbered. Trust must flow in both directions. Come back with me to the palace instead, begin to establish your presence in my court. Unless you intend to sell me to these slavers?"

His smile grew teeth. "A Queen in chains would be a lovely sight. But what are you willing to risk for us, my dear? We risked our people for one of your own, as you call him. What about when it’s only our people on the line? Where do you stand, then?"

"Castien was not your doing alone. That was a mutual effort and a mutual friend. If you insist on this raid—"

"We do."

"Then I will not be accompanying you. If that is insufficient, we should stop wasting time."

Damon stared at her, still and silent. She calmly sipped the ale. Eyes first, she thought. A tiny flick of her wrist would send the burning liquid into his eyes, then she’d be out of her seat with her sword in her hand. There were only two rebel guards, plus the captains. Jerome would distract the captains, then—

Damon leaned back and chuckled. "Just making sure you have a spine, my dear."

Boredom settled into her eyes. She addressed the table when she said, "If I didn’t, the court would have killed me long ago. They don’t suffer weakness."

He shrugged. "If you haven’t noticed, we don’t much care for the opinionsof your court." His captains nodded.

Her laugh surprised them. "In that, we agree. Should we find success, you’re welcome to string them up however you please."

The sharp-faced woman gave her an appraising look and a small smile. Jerrl’s anger was still clear in his eyes, but Damon…

She wondered at the hunger mixed with his hate.

Then he blinked and his mask returned.

"What a gracious Queen indeed," he murmured in low tones. "Concessions until then—my people need to be convinced that you will not betray them. If clawed peasants are unacceptable, make a decree—allow anyone to declaw their female children."

She glanced at his necklace, taking another sip of the ale while she attempted to stomach the request. Declawing adults was considered the harshest of punishments, worse than death. Removing the claws on babes or children was an abomination. Any commoners who crippled their children were executed, and the youths taken for the military. In the court, it was unthinkable to declaw one’s own child.

He might hate claws, but he couldn’t expect this concession to be met. Did he want a compromise or for her to propose something entirely different?

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