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  • Home > Anne Bishop > Black Jewels > Shalador's Lady (Chapter 193)      Page
  • Shalador's Lady(Black Jewels,Book 8)(193) by Anne Bishop
  • When the butler appeared in the doorway, Theran said, “The pot broke. See what you can find to replace it and do what you can for the honey pear tree.”

    Julien disappeared.

    Theran picked up part of the broken pot, a piece about the size of his fully stretched hand.

    “Oh, Theran.” Kermilla stood there, looking pretty and contrite. “I’m sorry I threw that rock, but you made me so angry.”

    He could feel something breaking inside him, and he needed to get away from her, from everyone.

    She studied him. “I know you were fond of it but, Theran, it was just an old pot.”

    Something inside him breaking, breaking.

    “It wasn’t an old pot, Kermilla. It was a family heirloom, and because of who it belonged to, it was priceless.”

    Her mouth fell open in shock.

    And a truth ripped through him and left him bleeding.

    He walked away from her and passed by Julien as the butler rushed back to the tree. He didn’t allow himself to think or to feel until he was safely behind the locked door of his study.

    Then he set the remnant of the wish pot on his desk, sat down . . . and cried.

    CHAPTER 47


    For a day and a half, Theran tried to reconcile a dream and a hard truth, but no matter how he looked at it, it came down to choosing between two loves.

    It is better to break your own heart than to break your honor.

    He finally understood Talon’s words.

    Kermilla mattered more to him than anyone he had ever known. But in the end, Dena Nehele mattered more. So he made his choice and wrote the letters that would bring the Warlord Princes to Grayhaven.

    He still wanted Kermilla. Mother Night, how he wanted her! But every time he wavered, he looked at the two objects he’d placed on his desk—objects that reminded him of the difference between two Queens.

    One was the piece from the broken wish pot.

    The other was a leather-bound copy of Jared’s story.

    Two days later, twenty-seven Warlord Princes walked into a meeting room at Grayhaven.

    This time, Theran didn’t stand on a platform to address them. This time, he didn’t try to stand as their leader. This time, they told him what he had to do.

    Kermilla huffed andtsk ed and made unhappy sounds as she pushed dress after dress aside. Shehad to have some new clothes. When she became Queen, shecouldn’t be seen in these old things!

    And she wasfinally going to be Queen. The Warlord Princes had come. Theran hadn’t said anything about this meeting, but she’d seen the men arriving. Theran would give them a stern talking-to first, and then he’d request her presence so that she could select her court. She really didn’t want a First Circle made up completely of Warlord Princes—they were so prickly!—but she’d settle for it to get the court established and then select more congenial men for her Second Circle. And once she was Queen, she could select a man with better training for her bed.

    Not that she wasn’t still fond of Theran, but he was better suited to being a First Escort or her Master of the Guard. He just didn’t have the proper skills to be a Consort—or even a lover.

    So important to make the right impression this time. So important to look like what these men wanted.

    But how was she supposed to do that withthese clothes?

    Alone again, Theran closed his eyes and swayed as the pain raked through him.

    It was done. The Warlord Princes would help him save what was left of Dena Nehele.

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire