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“Better how?”
Opening his eyes, he flashed a smile, his eyes flickering with red-gold stars. “It smells like you now too, my queen.”
He turned to Thierry but my mother’s former Blood recoiled a step, wavering, almost falling. “Taint.”
Lew shook his head. “You can’t cause any of the taint to spread to her by carrying her hair.”
Thierry’s jaw tightened, his lips moving, his throat working, as if there was so much he wanted to say but couldn’t. He didn’t fear giving me the taint. He didn’t want to sully my—her—hair with that foulness. Especially since it carried our power and scent.
My throat ached but I blinked away the tears. I wanted this to be a fun, light memory for everyone. Not something sad.
Especially for Thierry.
Lew dropped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing firmly. “You deserve the honor of carrying our queen’s hair into battle.”
Closing his eyes, Thierry groaned deep in his throat. But he didn’t pull away as Lew looped my hair around his throat and tied it into a necklace. Hand trembling, he lightly stroked his fingers over my hair. “Honor. Serve.”
It’s an honor to serve.
I made my lips curve into a smile even though I wanted to fucking cry. “Thank you, Thierry. You honor House Isador with your service.”
My knight started to turn back to the sparring.
“Death.” Thierry’s tongue stumbling over the word. “Rides.”
Pausing, Guillaume slowly turned his head, his eyes narrowed as he searched Thierry’s face. “Death rides again.”
Thierry nodded.
“You were there,” Guillaume whispered. In his bond, a dark shape swayed back and forth and then struck. Swords in his chest.
No. My mother’s fangs. The night she’d poisoned him so he could kill Desideria.
“That was you.”
“Honor,” Thierry said again. “Serve.”
Lew nodded. “She was only allowed to take one Blood to Constantinople, and she chose Thierry to accompany her.”
“That’s why no one saw us in the courtyard. You stopped time for her.” Guillaume let out a long, slow breath and stepped closer to my mother’s former Blood. Flipping the blade in his hand so he gripped the tip, he offered it hilt first. “It’s an honor to serve with you, Thierry Isador.”
33
DAIRE
I was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Though the only one I worried about was Sekh.
And I had one long fucking tail.
I didn’t give a shit about sparring with the knight, though I’d do it if Rik ordered it. My warcat could usually hold its own, and if that failed, then my charm and smiles smoothed any edges away.
Not with the general.
His sphinx would happily snack on my warcat and still go looking for more. I’d tried to be polite and respectful to the much older Blood, but that didn’t smooth things between us either. He flat out didn’t like me.
I knew why, and there was nothing I could fucking do about it.
I fucked up. I fucking got it. I hated that my queen had witnessed my failure, as well as Rik, Guillaume, and Xin. I hadn’t realized an All Seeing general was also watching and judging my failures, who’d then show up in our queen’s nest. Still hating me. Still judging me.
