Gallard sucked in a breath, but in the end he escorted her to the guest room and said nothing.

She would talk to Sabrina and get this mess straightened out so that she could enjoy some of Winsol. And she would go home for a few days. She needed to be around people who thought she was wonderful, and she could count on her father to give her enough marks to tide her over.

CHAPTER 33

KAELEER

Kermilla stood at the parlor window in her parents’ house and watched the snow fall. It was a roomy house, the kind typically owned by a couple who came from secondary branches of aristo families and wanted to maintain the social connections that would be an asset to their children.

Social connections were of no use to her right now. At least, not until she managed to get her father alone and talked him into giving her some help.

She should have left early on the first day of Winsol as she’d intended to do. But she’d wrangled with that thrice-damned butler in order to get access to her clothes—which was insulting beyond words—andthen discovered most of the new jewelry and half the new clothes she’d bought before going to Dena Nehele weregone. Not stolen by the servants, as she’d first suspected. No, something even worse. The jewelry that hadn’t been paid for yet had been returned to the jewelers. The dresses and formal gowns that hadn’t been worn had been sent to shops in other Provinces to be sold in order to pay for the clothes shehad worn.

Thank the Darkness she’d had two trunks of autumn and winter clothes sent to her in Dena Nehele. The damn nosy Stewards hadn’t foundthose clothes and they never would.

By the time she’d gotten that sorted out and taken a Coach to Sabrina’s residence, the Queen of Dharo was gone and her thrice-damned Steward refused to reveal her location, even when Kermilla emphasized several times that this was an emergency.

The Steward, of course, offered to hear her out.

The man had no balls, no sex, and no heart. He listened calmly, with no sign of interest or concern. He didn’t respond to flirting or to pouts or any other tool that usually proved useful when dealing with men.

He listened. Then he told her what financial arrangements Lady Sabrina had authorized for Kermilla and her court.

The private side of the Queen’s house in Bhak would be reopened for Kermilla’s use. Sabrina would pay for the general maintenance of that house and its stables until spring. That included the wages for the butler, housekeeper, cook, maid, footman, coachman, and stable lad. No additional staff, not even restoring Kermilla’s personal maid. Food for the Queen and the First Circle who were in residence, as well as for the servants, would also be paid for by the Territory Queen. Kermilla would be responsible for the expense of any entertainment held at the house.

Income? Had Lady Kermilla discussed the situation in Bhak and Woolskin with her own Steward? Yes? Then the Lady was aware that there was no income available for her use since the winter tithes had gone into paying down the remaining debts.

Insulting, insufferable man, treating her like a child who had overspent her allowance! Yes, just like that but neverever acknowledging that the allowance hadn’t been adequate to begin with!

She’d gotten no satisfaction from Sabrina’s Steward beyond him giving her an appointment to meet with Dharo’s Queen the day after Winsol ended.

It had been too humiliating to go back to the house in Bhak. If she summoned her court to return, what would she do with them? She couldn’t throw any parties or dinners, couldn’t afford tickets to a play or a concert or any other kind of entertainment. And it occurred to her that Sabrina didn’t know yet that her First Circle was short a man, and having the other men scattered would make that fact less obvious.

So she returned to Bhak long enough to pack up all her clothes, then came here to her parents’ house to “enjoy the holiday as a daughter instead of a Queen.”

Her father was delighted to see her. Her mother was pleased too, but Kermilla sensed a reservation there. And her brother and sister hadn’t made any accommodation to spend time with her, as they should have since she was a Queen.

The parlor door opened and her father walked in. Then he saw her, realized they were alone, and started to back out.

“Father, wait.” Kermilla rushed over to him, grabbed his hand, and pulled him into the room. “I’ve wanted to talk to you.”

“Maybe we should wait for your mother.”

“Don’t be silly.” She tugged him over to a chair, then sat on the footstool in front of him. “I wanted to talk toyou. ”

He sighed, as if he knew what she wanted to talk about. But there was sadness in his eyes and more than a little worry.

“What’s on your mind, sweets?” he asked.

“I need some help. Just a little,” she added quickly when he shook his head. “There was a misunderstanding about the court expenses and—”

“I can’t help, Kermilla. I’m sorry, sweets, but I can’t.”

“It’s not that much,” she coaxed, sure she could wear him down. He had never failed her before. Ever.

“I can’t.”

“But you don’t even know how much.”

“How much doesn’t matter,” he said with a thread of temper that sounded a little like fear. “When your mother found out about all the debts I’d managed to hide from her, all the debts weighing on the family now for the clothes and things you needed while you were in training . . .” He clasped his hands together tight enough to turn the knuckles white. “She told me that if I gave you so much as a silver mark without her consent she’ll divorce me, and the only things I’ll take from the marriage are my personal belongings and all of your debts.” Now he clasped her hands.

“I’ve got to think of your brother and sister now, sweets. They did without plenty of things these past few years because you needed so much to get established. But you are established now, ruling a village and having a Queen’s income.”

“And a Queen’s expenses,” she pouted.

He released her hands. “Then you need to talk to your Steward about court expenses, or talk to a man of business about investing some of your income to give you some profit.”

“That’s all well and good once the spring tithes come in, but I need something now!” Kermilla said.

“But the winter tithes were paid not more than a few days ago,” he protested. “What happened to that income?”

“A misunderstanding between my Steward and Sabrina’s. It will be straightened out as soon as I talk to her after Winsol, but for now I need two or three hundred gold marks to tide me—”

Shock in his eyes. Panic as the front door opened. He bolted out of the chair and almost knocked her over in his haste to get out of the room.

She heard her mother’s voice—and her father’s. Too low to hear the words, but she recognized the tone.

A minute later, her mother walked into the room and stood near the chair. Kermilla stood up, lifting her chin in a subtle challenge. After all, her mother might wear Summer-sky too, but she was just a witch, not a Queen.

Her mother studied her for a long moment. Too long. “We’ve given you all the financial help we can. It’s time for you to take responsibility for yourself, especially when you’ve taken responsibility for so many other people’s lives now. I love you, Kermilla, and I love your father. But I will divorce him if that’s what I have to do to protect your brother and sister’s future. I will do that.”

“You won’t help me at all?” Kermilla asked.

Her mother sighed. “Financially? No. There’s nothing left to give, and there won’t be for several more years.” She paused. “Are you going to stay with us through the days of Winsol?”

Kermilla nodded.

“Good,” her mother said. “It would have hurt your father terribly if you only came to see him in order to get money.”

TERREILLE

Cassidy came downstairs and paused, listening. Hearing nothing in the rooms usually occupied by the court, she went along to the kitchen, where the servants were most likely to gather at this hour for a cup of tea and a light snack.

It stung that Gray had been right to insist that she take a nap. During the first four days of Winsol, she’d visited a dozen villages in the Shalador reserves and the two southernmost Provinces; she’d listened to children in each of those villages sing the same three traditional Winsol songs; she’d toured those villages with the residing Queen or Warlord Prince to see the new loaning libraries and other improvements; and she’d felt overwhelmed by the number of people who had lined those villages’ main streets in order to see the Queen known as Shalador’s Lady.

A couple of sneezes this morning and Gray had started fretting that she was coming down with a chill from overwork. He’d held his tongue while she attended the performances this morning, since it was the last official function she would make beyond her home village until after Winsol, but when they returned home for the midday meal he insisted she go to bed and rest for the afternoon—and Shira had agreed with him.

Her breathinghad felt a little raspy and her chest had burned when she coughed, so she didn’t argue with them too much. Now, feeling better after drinking the healing brew Shira had made for her and getting some sleep, she wandered into the kitchen to find her court and family.

Devra looked over, then pulled two baking sheets out of the oven and set them on trivets to cool. “There you are, Daughter. You look better for the rest.”

“Uh-huh.” Cassidy was so focused on the baking sheets, she barely heard her mother. “What are those?” They looked like circles of dough, baked golden brown and full of . . . Was that chocolate?

“Chocolate chunk cookies,” Maydra replied as she continued to blend and stir ingredients in a big bowl on the counter. “A special Winsol treat that’s made in Dena Nehele.”

“I brought the ingredients to make a couple of our family treats, so Maydra and I have been baking this afternoon,” Devra said.