Richelle Mead - Shadow Heir

“Maybe here it would be,” I said, thinking of the gentry aversion to metal. A scalpel might as well be a sword. “Among humans, it’s a pretty safe and standard thing. Saves a lot of lives—though I’d rather avoid it if I can. I don’t want a scar.”

Dorian considered. “Actually, that’s the only part I can understand. Why not wear a scar of motherhood? Better than a tattoo or some other mark of honor. Let the world know what you’ve achieved.”

I stretched out on my side in the grass. “I’d rather just let the kids speak for themselves.”

He smiled and let the subject go. “There’ve been no more attacks on Eugenie lookalikes, by the way. It seems Maiwenn has more restraint than we thought.”

“That’s good,” I said. The guilt over Ansonia still haunted me. “Beyond good. So you don’t need to raze her kingdom just yet?”

“Not quite yet, no. Though I nearly would for what she’s put you through.” I think he meant it. After all, he’d once run a guy through to defend my honor.

“Well, I’m still doing okay. That’s what counts.”

Dorian shook his head. “There are lots of ways to be ‘okay.’ We haven’t made a science of stress like you humans have, but even I know all this worry can’t be good for you. It’s not just your body I want safe. I also want you to be—”

Whatever he wanted was lost as a guard came and announced that Roland was here. The lazy, funny atmosphere with Dorian vanished. A mix of emotions warred within me as I realized what this meant. My days of procrastination were over. Part of me was happy to finally get things rolling. It would ensure the greater good for everyone. The rest of me—the cowardly part—dreaded the consequences that would soon unfold. Dorian wore a kind, sincere look, and I could barely meet his eyes as I mumbled an apology and hurried off to talk to Roland.

“You found a place,” I said, once Roland and I were alone.

“I did.” He glanced around nervously. I’d taken him to my bedroom, not wanting to risk even my discreet bodyguards overhearing something. Still, Roland regarded the room as suspect, as though perhaps there were magical ears within the walls. “Though I’d rather not tell you where until the last minute.”

“That’s fair,” I said, despite the curiosity that burned within me.

“I can tell you that it’s a town that has a shaman on hand—and old friend of mine that I trust implicitly. She doesn’t know your exact story, of course, but she understands there’s some danger. She’s more than willing to defend you if necessary.” He smiled wryly. “And hopefully she’ll remove any temptation you have to do shamanic housecleaning. You see something going on, you just tell her.”

The next most complicated part was figuring out how to get me to this secret location. The Otherworld lined up with the human world in a very rough way. It wasn’t an exact match, but gates had a geographic similarity. For example, there was a favorite crossing spot of mine in the Thorn Land that led back to Tucson. One kingdom over, in Dorian’s land, there was a gate that opened in New Mexico. Another nearby one went to Texas. That’s how it was in this region of the Otherworld; most crossings led to the American Southwest. That was why I’d had to travel to the Honeysuckle Land to reach the Ohio gate. Roland didn’t elaborate, but from what I could gather, his safe house was not in the Southwest, meaning I’d have to travel far in either this world or the human one.

We worked out a reasonably convoluted plan, and then he left again in that way of his, off to make sure everything was in place back on the other side. The plan was for me to leave tomorrow, which was frighteningly close. But in this situation ... well, the sooner things were implemented, the better.

That evening, not long after Roland had departed, I received a message from one of my servants that Dorian wished to see me in his chambers. I almost laughed at that. It was so typical of him to send me a summons in my own castle, as though he were the ruler here, not me. On the other hand, I wondered with dread what this could be about. Despite all our precautions, had he somehow found out about my plan with Roland? Had Jasmine cracked? Had there been magical ears in the walls after all?

Entering Dorian’s rooms, I found nothing so sinister. Like most of the larger guest suites in the castle, his consisted of a separate bedroom and sitting chamber. The latter had been arranged with an elaborate table for two, complete with a gold silk tablecloth and candelabra featuring a weird, branching style that seemed to defy all laws of physics. Under normal circumstances, a setup like this would’ve instantly made alarms go off in my head as I tried to figure out what ploy Dorian had going on. My anxiety over tomorrow’s adventure, however, superseded my normal wariness.

He was already seated and gestured me to the chair opposite him. He eyed me as I sat. “I’d so been hoping you’d wear something a bit more formal. Velvet and lace, perhaps. With a plunging neckline, naturally.”

“Naturally,” I said. I was in jeans and a T-shirt that was one size larger than what I used to wear, no thanks to my expanding waist. “Maybe next time you should let me know this is a formal occasion.” A servant swept in through the door I’d just entered, no doubt having waited until my arrival. He set down a platter of quichelike tarts and then scurried off. “What is the occasion anyway?”

Dorian sighed dramatically. “A sad one, I’m afraid. Tomorrow. . . I’m leaving.”

“You are?” For a moment, hope surged in me as I toyed with the idea of sneaking off when he wasn’t even around. I wouldn’t have to tell him my plans at all.

“Indeed.” He swirled around a glass of red wine. For once, he hadn’t harassed me about drinking any. “I’ve enjoyed my time here in your delightful company, but it’s time I look to my own kingdom. I also intend to increase security near my borders to discourage that bitch from taking liberties with my people again. Just in case.” “That bitch,” of course, was Maiwenn.

I picked up one of the quiches. It was heavy with cheese, just the way I loved them. “You just said earlier that you thought she had restraint and wouldn’t attack again.”

“I do,” he said. “I think her people truly did act in error with Ansonia. Even if they didn’t, maybe she decided using a scare tactic that attacks innocents is too savage. But it doesn’t matter whether they’ve stopped or not. There was still an incursion on my land, and I have to show I won’t allow it again. Maybe I won’t raze her lands, but I’ll certainly protect mine.”

The mention of “innocents” made me think of Kiyo. He hadn’t hesitated to come after the innocents that were his own children, but I could see him being responsible for preventing further mix-ups from Maiwenn’s people. I was certain he would put a halt to a scare tactic that would endanger those not involved in our dispute. I didn’t want to think well of him, not after everything that had happened, but I knew his style.

Course after course of succulent finger foods came, and we were eating olives stuffed with herbs when Dorian said, “I have another surprise for you.” As though on cue, two servants entered. Between them, they were carrying ... a crib.

I jumped up before they even had a chance to leave. I stared at the crib in wonder. “What is this?”

“What do you think?” asked Dorian, looking very pleased. “Your little warriors need a place to sleep, don’t they?”

I supposed they did, but I honestly hadn’t given it much thought. Nursery décor and baby registries had been kind of the last things on my mind. I ran my hand along the smooth surface of one of the rails. The entire thing had been carved out of golden oak and polished to brilliance. Elaborate designs of animals and plants had been worked into the wood with painstaking care. Knowing what I did about the gentry, I didn’t doubt that most of this had been made by hand.