Queen, I am also a daughter. So when my mother pulled out the rags and mops on cleaning day, I dusted and polished furniture, and mopped the floors right along with her. And when it was my turn to clean the bathroom, I had very bad thoughts about my brother.” She looked Ranon right in the eyes. “Why is it that a man can hit the center of a bull’s eye at one hundred paces and yet can’t manage to get all of his stream in the toilet bowl when he’s standing right over it?”
Janos and Gray stood there with their mouths hanging open. Ranon, poor man, looked ready to slink away.
But it was the suppressed snort from the young Queen that told Cassidy she had achieved her goal. She’d talk to the girl later about the proper way to address a Warlord Prince when his Jewels were dominant.
She smiled at all of them. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to take a look at the vegetable garden.” As she walked away, she added on a distaff thread, *Vae, keep an eye on the males. Make sure they’re still breathing.*
One, two, three . . .
*Ranon? Ranon! Are you breathing?*
There, Cassidy thought. By the time Ranon, Gray, and Janos untangled themselves from Vae’s attention, Reyhana would be safely among the older women—the ones Prince Ranon would not dare offend without good reason.
When she reached the vegetable garden, she stopped.
It should have been good soil, but it was parched, almost barren, and the plants struggling to grow wouldn’t yield the bounty needed to feed these people. Not parched for water; the ground was still soft, a sure sign that there had been a long, soaking rain sometime in the past day or two. No, it was parched for the connection with a Queen, for that necessary give-and-take that kept the land healthy.
Why had the Shalador Queens neglected this? Cassidy wondered as she knelt at the edge of the bed.
Surely they were aware of the need. Had they been so afraid to call attention to themselves that they hadn’t done this one thing that would have helped so many? Or had they stopped because they realized that if they made this land richer than the rest of Dena Nehele by following traditions, it would have been taken away? Ranon had told them that the reserves were half the size they had been when Lady Grizelle and Lia had established those parts of Dena Nehele as a place that belonged to the Shalador people.
Well, it was time everyone stopped denying one of the duties of a Queen.
She didn’t turn around. If she looked at him, Gray would join her—and raise too many objections.
Ceremony could come later. First she would show them why; then she would show them how.
Cassidy called in a short-bladed knife and made a cut on each palm. As the blood flowed, she vanished the knife and pressed her hands into the soil—and sent her Rose-Jeweled power flowing through her blood and into the ground.
So parched. So needy. So empty for so long.
Power flowed, spreading through the vegetable garden like sweet rain.
The land was the true root and heart of the Blood’s power. They were the caretakers of the Realms. That was more than society and cities. It was more than music and literature, more than ruling over the landens.
A connection to the land was an important part of what made the Blood who and what they were, and the Queens were the bridge because their power supported the land.
So parched. So needy. Soaking up everything she was willing to give. She could feel the land responding under her hands, wanting more. Wanting everything.
“Cassie?”
A little more. She could give a little more. Saturation would come soon, and the land would stop draining her.
“Cassie.”
So parched. So needy. To be wanted so much.
Then the power was draining too fast, too much. But she couldn’t pull away, couldn’t turn away when there was so much need.
Just a little—
“Cassie!”
CHAPTER 6
TERREILLE
T he ground felt soft and smelled lightly of herbs. She didn’t remember seeing herbs in the
Janos and Gray stood there with their mouths hanging open. Ranon, poor man, looked ready to slink away.
But it was the suppressed snort from the young Queen that told Cassidy she had achieved her goal. She’d talk to the girl later about the proper way to address a Warlord Prince when his Jewels were dominant.
She smiled at all of them. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to take a look at the vegetable garden.” As she walked away, she added on a distaff thread, *Vae, keep an eye on the males. Make sure they’re still breathing.*
One, two, three . . .
*Ranon? Ranon! Are you breathing?*
There, Cassidy thought. By the time Ranon, Gray, and Janos untangled themselves from Vae’s attention, Reyhana would be safely among the older women—the ones Prince Ranon would not dare offend without good reason.
When she reached the vegetable garden, she stopped.
It should have been good soil, but it was parched, almost barren, and the plants struggling to grow wouldn’t yield the bounty needed to feed these people. Not parched for water; the ground was still soft, a sure sign that there had been a long, soaking rain sometime in the past day or two. No, it was parched for the connection with a Queen, for that necessary give-and-take that kept the land healthy.
Why had the Shalador Queens neglected this? Cassidy wondered as she knelt at the edge of the bed.
Surely they were aware of the need. Had they been so afraid to call attention to themselves that they hadn’t done this one thing that would have helped so many? Or had they stopped because they realized that if they made this land richer than the rest of Dena Nehele by following traditions, it would have been taken away? Ranon had told them that the reserves were half the size they had been when Lady Grizelle and Lia had established those parts of Dena Nehele as a place that belonged to the Shalador people.
Well, it was time everyone stopped denying one of the duties of a Queen.
She didn’t turn around. If she looked at him, Gray would join her—and raise too many objections.
Ceremony could come later. First she would show them why; then she would show them how.
Cassidy called in a short-bladed knife and made a cut on each palm. As the blood flowed, she vanished the knife and pressed her hands into the soil—and sent her Rose-Jeweled power flowing through her blood and into the ground.
So parched. So needy. So empty for so long.
Power flowed, spreading through the vegetable garden like sweet rain.
The land was the true root and heart of the Blood’s power. They were the caretakers of the Realms. That was more than society and cities. It was more than music and literature, more than ruling over the landens.
A connection to the land was an important part of what made the Blood who and what they were, and the Queens were the bridge because their power supported the land.
So parched. So needy. Soaking up everything she was willing to give. She could feel the land responding under her hands, wanting more. Wanting everything.
“Cassie?”
A little more. She could give a little more. Saturation would come soon, and the land would stop draining her.
“Cassie.”
So parched. So needy. To be wanted so much.
Then the power was draining too fast, too much. But she couldn’t pull away, couldn’t turn away when there was so much need.
Just a little—
“Cassie!”
CHAPTER 6
TERREILLE
T he ground felt soft and smelled lightly of herbs. She didn’t remember seeing herbs in the
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