The Queen's Bargain by Anne Bishop

Author:Anne Bishop [Bishop, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2020-03-10T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-ONE

Someone kept pounding on his front door. Swearing, Lucivar secured the loin wrap around his hips as he hurried through the eyrie to stop the damn noise before it woke up the children.

He yanked the door open. A rock from the decorative rock garden Marian and Daemonar had made last summer dropped in the space between his bare feet and six little furry front paws.

He looked at his brother, who carried his sleepy niece. ٭I hate you.٭

Daemon’s smile held a brittleness that spoke of more than one kind of pain. ٭As Karla likes to say, kiss kiss.٭

Lucivar looked at the three Scelties. He recognized Morghann, the brown and white witch who now wore a Purple Dusk Birthright Jewel, and Khary, an Opal-Jeweled Warlord who was dark gray with white legs, chest, and tail tip. The third Sceltie, a black and white Warlord with tan patches on his face, must be the puppy Daemonar had met when the boy had visited his uncle a few weeks ago.

Bright eyes looked back at him. Tails wagged. Tiny movements brought those front paws just a wee bit closer to the threshold of his home. Before they had a chance to start offering opinions about everything, he offered an opinion of his own. “If you leave the rock there, Marian will be unhappy with you.”

The rock instantly rose two fingers off the ground and scooted toward the empty space in the rock garden. It did one roll and would have settled dirt side up if Daemon hadn’t added mildly, “The bottom of the rock already has dirt on it and should go back in that way. It will matter to Lady Marian.”

Morghann gave Daemon an anxious look before focusing on her task. Using Craft, the Sceltie turned the rock right side up, then let it settle back into the dirt. But that wasn’t enough, because she continued to make small adjustments until the rock exactly matched its previous position.

“Perfect,” Daemon said quietly.

The joy that blasted out of the little bitch made Lucivar glad he didn’t have to deal with her on a daily basis. He looked at the last member of this party and smiled when Daemon set her on her feet. “Morning, witchling. Have you got something for me?”

“We brought Scelties!” Jaenelle Saetien said, now awake and as bright-eyed as the damn dogs.

“Anything else?”

“I brought Papa!”

Daemon kissed the top of her head. “I think Uncle Lucivar is looking for a hug.”

She took a step, avoided putting a foot on any Sceltie tails, and launched herself at him.

Not enough height and too much distance.

Lucivar stepped forward, caught her under the arms, and lifted her so that she could wrap her arms around his neck and give him a hug—and tried to not to wince when her leg gave him a light whack where a man didn’t want to be hit.

“Aahhhh, that’s better.” He returned her hug before he put her down.

“Is Titian awake?”

“Not yet. Why don’t you go wake her?”

Jaenelle Saetien rushed past him into the eyrie.

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