Page 92 of Shadows and Roses

Anais tapped her own claws on her mug. "The crown will offer payment for the children taken from commoner families, and the nobles will pay again when the child is adopted." Adoption was required of every titled family—one of them helped make the child, after all. Sadly, there were always more children than families, so the requirement only applied to young girls.

She added, "Furthermore, healers from the palace will regularly distribute calming herbs and teach their usage." Anywoman could come to the palace to give birth, but in practice, few were able or willing to make the trip.

His brows flicked up before he controlled his expression into a mocking smile again. "Generous payments. I’m sure we can work out the details later." Something in his eyes said that was not nearly enough, but he didn’t press the issue.

They moved on to other concessions. Reduced taxes were an expected demand and eventually determined for more in-depth, future discussions.

Although he was an inexperienced negotiator, she still found the conversation educational. She could read him with ease, but he was learning quickly. He was intelligent, keen, well-spoken for a commoner, and a fair hand with a sword. Altogether, it became clear why so many followed him.

Her unease grew. She would need to root out the reason for that hate in his eyes before she welcomed a rabid wolf into her home, believing it to be a friendly hound.

Chapter 26

Anais

A rearing horse caught her attention.

Damon slowly approached his mount. Its tail flicked back and forth while its ears flattened. He snatched the reins and hopped on, firmly holding the animal as it pawed the ground and settled beneath him.

Glancing to the side, he met Anais’ amused gaze.

"Animals don't particularly like me." He shrugged.

She moved her mount closer. "Perhaps their instincts are sharper than our poor human senses."

His smile was tight. "The depth of your trust is overwhelming."

The group started moving, her eight guards and four other rebels. They’d decided that a minor lord’s fifth son wouldn’t have a large entourage.

"Trust begins in understanding. Tell me of yourself, Damon. Help me understand you."

He jerked the reins of his stubborn horse. "I'm no mystery. Born a peasant, orphaned young, raised by my village—not far from the palace city. Fairly decent youth, I suppose. What do you want to know?"

"Do you remember your parents?"

A pause. "My parents…" His eyes stayed on the road, his expression didn't change. But his hands gripped the reins tighter. Then loosened.

"Not my father. He passed before I was born, a sickness, my mother said. She passed when I was seven. She'd given birth to my sister a year before. My sister's father must've been anoble. He was no more than seed planted in fertile, if unwilling, soil." The light tone of his voice carried a hint of bitterness. "Her tiny claws ripped my mother apart from the inside out until the midwife was holding a screaming baby dripping with blood. My mother never recovered."

He tossed a crooked smile. "Does that help you understand me?"

It was a common story. The birth of a clawed girl almost always required the aid of an experienced midwife and an exact amount of an herb to soothe the babe in the belly. By the time the child was ripping the womb apart to get out, it was too late.

"Is that why you hate us? Because a noble raped and killed your mother."

The slight frown on his brows smoothed into thoughtfulness. Tight shoulders and jaws relaxed.

"I’ll admit I’m angry. I wouldn’t mind tearing his throat out, but I have no idea who or where he is, if he’s even alive. So here I am, doing everything I can to prevent dead mothers and orphaned children. A lofty goal, yes?"

His words rang true yet she sensed there was more that he wasn’t saying. Perhaps something about his sister. And he hadn’t denied his hatred, but maybe she was too suspicious.

Anais nodded. "Lofty and worthy of a true noble, Lord Damon. Best start familiarizing yourself with the title."

"And their habits?" he asked wryly.

"Indeed. Little a lord wants is not his to take. We may as well begin your lessons in court protocol. First of all, never fail to address me as Queen."

His cocky smile faltered at her cold, emerald gaze. Turning back to the road, she began a lecture on bracers, expected behavior, and his supposed lord father’s lands and household. It was a substantial amount to understand buthe again proved to be a quick study.

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