me."
*But,Yas—*
He sensed it then. Someone coming up the stone stairs from the landing area below had passed through the perimeter shield he'd placed around the eyrie. The shield wasn't meant to keep anyone out, just to alert him if someone approached his home.
As he turned toward the intruder, Helene, his father's housekeeper, hurried up the last few steps, then stopped abruptly when she reached the flagstones and saw him.
"Good morning, Prince Yaslana," she said politely.
"Helene," he replied with equal, if forced, politeness…especially when a dozen maids who worked at the Hall came up the stairs and gave him a quick, and approving, glance before going into the eyrie.
Well, Lucivar thought sourly, they all got an eyeful to perk up their morning.
"What brings you here, Helene?"
"Now that all the workmen are done with the renovations the High Lord felt were necessary to make Prince Andulvar's old eyrie livable again, we've come to give it a good cleaning."
"I've already cleaned the place."
She made a sound that told him what she thought of his ability to clean anything.
But that was a hearth witch for you. If it didn't sparkle, shine, or gleam, it wasn't clean. Never mind that stone walls weren't supposed to sparkle, shine, or gleam.
"Fine," Lucivar said, knowing he was cornered and arguing was a waste of breath.
"I'll get dressed and show you—"
Helene waved her hand dismissively. "You were obviously enjoying a fine morning. There's no reason why you should do otherwise. I'm sure we can find everything. What there is of it," she added under her breath.
He bared his teeth in what he hoped would be mistaken as a smile. "I wouldn't want to be a distraction."
She gave him a fast sweep with her eyes. "You won't be."
Lucivar just stared at her, too stunned to think of anything to say.
Helene sniffed delicately. "I won't say I've seen better, but I've seen just as good."
Who? He could think of one man Helene could have walked in on and surprised.
As she headed for the door, another woman's voice, coming from the stairs, said,
"Come along, ladies. We don't want to interrupt too much of the Prince's day."
Helene turned toward the stairs, the light of battle in her eyes, as Merry bounded up the last few stairs and saw him. Along with her husband, Briggs, Merry ran a tavern and inn in Riada, the closest Blood village in the valley.
"Oh, my," Merry said with approval. Then she noticed Helene, and the glint in her eyes didn't bode well for a peaceful morning.
"Ladies," Lucivar said, wondering if he was going to start his day breaking up a brawl outside his door.
"We're going to clean up the eyrie for the Prince," Merry said stiffly, indicating the women crowding the stairs behind her. "As a welcome to Ebon Rih since he'll be living here now."
"I'm sure Prince Yaslana appreciates the gesture, but I've brought some of my staff from the Hall to take care of things," Helene replied.
"Ladies."
"There's no need for you to be taking time away from your own duties. We can look after him. He is the Warlord Prince of Ebon Rih now," Merry said.
"Which doesn't make him any less his father's son—" Helene said, raising her voice.
Hell's fire! They were squaring off like two bitches ready to fight over a meaty bone—and he was not going to become the prize of whoever won this battle.
"—and I won't have it said that any of the High Lord's children are living in squalor," Helene continued.
Lucivar gritted his teeth. Squalor? Squalor? He'd moved to the eyrie two days ago. There hadn't been time to accumulate squalor. "Ladies."
They turned on him, and after studying them the way he'd study any adversary, he wisely swallowed his rising temper. Helene worked for his father, and since he would, no doubt, continue to spend time at the Hall, telling her to leave would be an insult he didn't want to live with. And Merry made the best steak pies he'd ever tasted. If he told her to go, it might be years before he had
*But,Yas—*
He sensed it then. Someone coming up the stone stairs from the landing area below had passed through the perimeter shield he'd placed around the eyrie. The shield wasn't meant to keep anyone out, just to alert him if someone approached his home.
As he turned toward the intruder, Helene, his father's housekeeper, hurried up the last few steps, then stopped abruptly when she reached the flagstones and saw him.
"Good morning, Prince Yaslana," she said politely.
"Helene," he replied with equal, if forced, politeness…especially when a dozen maids who worked at the Hall came up the stairs and gave him a quick, and approving, glance before going into the eyrie.
Well, Lucivar thought sourly, they all got an eyeful to perk up their morning.
"What brings you here, Helene?"
"Now that all the workmen are done with the renovations the High Lord felt were necessary to make Prince Andulvar's old eyrie livable again, we've come to give it a good cleaning."
"I've already cleaned the place."
She made a sound that told him what she thought of his ability to clean anything.
But that was a hearth witch for you. If it didn't sparkle, shine, or gleam, it wasn't clean. Never mind that stone walls weren't supposed to sparkle, shine, or gleam.
"Fine," Lucivar said, knowing he was cornered and arguing was a waste of breath.
"I'll get dressed and show you—"
Helene waved her hand dismissively. "You were obviously enjoying a fine morning. There's no reason why you should do otherwise. I'm sure we can find everything. What there is of it," she added under her breath.
He bared his teeth in what he hoped would be mistaken as a smile. "I wouldn't want to be a distraction."
She gave him a fast sweep with her eyes. "You won't be."
Lucivar just stared at her, too stunned to think of anything to say.
Helene sniffed delicately. "I won't say I've seen better, but I've seen just as good."
Who? He could think of one man Helene could have walked in on and surprised.
As she headed for the door, another woman's voice, coming from the stairs, said,
"Come along, ladies. We don't want to interrupt too much of the Prince's day."
Helene turned toward the stairs, the light of battle in her eyes, as Merry bounded up the last few stairs and saw him. Along with her husband, Briggs, Merry ran a tavern and inn in Riada, the closest Blood village in the valley.
"Oh, my," Merry said with approval. Then she noticed Helene, and the glint in her eyes didn't bode well for a peaceful morning.
"Ladies," Lucivar said, wondering if he was going to start his day breaking up a brawl outside his door.
"We're going to clean up the eyrie for the Prince," Merry said stiffly, indicating the women crowding the stairs behind her. "As a welcome to Ebon Rih since he'll be living here now."
"I'm sure Prince Yaslana appreciates the gesture, but I've brought some of my staff from the Hall to take care of things," Helene replied.
"Ladies."
"There's no need for you to be taking time away from your own duties. We can look after him. He is the Warlord Prince of Ebon Rih now," Merry said.
"Which doesn't make him any less his father's son—" Helene said, raising her voice.
Hell's fire! They were squaring off like two bitches ready to fight over a meaty bone—and he was not going to become the prize of whoever won this battle.
"—and I won't have it said that any of the High Lord's children are living in squalor," Helene continued.
Lucivar gritted his teeth. Squalor? Squalor? He'd moved to the eyrie two days ago. There hadn't been time to accumulate squalor. "Ladies."
They turned on him, and after studying them the way he'd study any adversary, he wisely swallowed his rising temper. Helene worked for his father, and since he would, no doubt, continue to spend time at the Hall, telling her to leave would be an insult he didn't want to live with. And Merry made the best steak pies he'd ever tasted. If he told her to go, it might be years before he had
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