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  • Tangled Webs(Black Jewels,Book 6)(28) by Anne Bishop
  • He studied Jazen’s face. “That wasn’t a smart-ass remark, was it?”

    “No, Prince. The Lady thinks you look stunning in your usual attire, but she felt a change of pace once in a while would be good for you.”

    “I see.”

    While Jazen went into the bathroom to “tidy up,” Daemon shucked off the bathrobe and got dressed. There wasn’t much to tidy, but he didn’t need an audience when he dressed or undressed—unless it was Jaenelle—and Jazen, who had been viciously castrated when he’d lived in Hayll, didn’t need to see a whole male and be reminded of what he had lost.

    By the time Jazen came back into the Consort’s bedroom, Daemon was dressed and inspecting a cloth bag full of broken biscuits that had been left beside the clothes.

    “No!” Jazen said a moment before Daemon popped a piece into his mouth.

    His gold eyes narrowed. “Since they were here with my walking attire, I assumed these were treats for the walk.”

    “They are,” Jazen assured him. “But not for you,” he finished, hunching his shoulders.

    Ah, Hell’s fire.

    Daemon opened the bedroom door and stood in the doorway, not ready to commit himself by stepping out of the room.

    Five furry little bodies waited in the corridor. Five little tails wagged happy greetings. Five little Sceltie minds yapped at him just outside his inner barriers.

    "Walkies?" "Walkies!" "We go with you!"

    He got bumped into the corridor when Jazen shut the door behind his back.

    “Fine,” he said, vanishing the sack of treats. “Let’s go for walkies.”

    The first challenge came when he reached the bottom of the stairs and was stopped by the wails andarooo s coming from the top of the stairs. Apparently the puppies could get up the stairs by themselves but couldn’t get back down.

    So it was up the stairs, gather a pup in each hand, down the stairs, set the pups on the floor. He could have used Craft to float all five Scelties and bring them down at one time, but…

    Exercise, Sadi. You were taking this walk for the exercise.

    Two more trips, and they were all heading for the great hall and the front door.

    Where Beale was waiting for him, holding a water dish and a pitcher of water. A footman opened the door, and five bundles of fuzzy scampered outside, yipping for him to hurry up.

    Daemon vanished the bowl and pitcher. “Thank you, Beale.”

    “Enjoy your walk, Prince. I have asked Tarl to bring around one of the small gardening wagons.”

    Daemon just raised an eyebrow and waited.

    “It is a long walk for short legs,” Beale said. His expression didn’t change, but there was a definite twinkle in his eyes. “I think you will find the wagon more convenient for the walk home.”

    When he’d be pulling that wagon full of five snoozing puppies.

    “I am a Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince and the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan. I haven’t imagined being those things, have I?”

    “No, Prince,” Beale replied. “You have not imagined those things. You are the most powerful male in Dhemlan.”

    Nodding, Daemon walked to the door.


    He stopped. Twisted at the waist to look back at Beale.

    “After the Lady came to live with him here at the Hall, the High Lord quite often asked the same question.”

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire