Disclaimer: I no more own The Black Jewel's Trilogy then the moon. This fabulous series belongs to Anne Bishop the Great

CHAPTER 1

Karla stood from her chair and took five long strides, the length of the small sitting room, before a smile of pure elation broke across her face, "Jaenelle, I did it!" She said turning to face the golden haired woman the stood behind her as she walked but the movement unbalanced her and she caught on to the chair even as Jaenelle caught her arm to help support her.

"There is still the matter of building back up the muscle that was consumed in the healing…" Jaenelle said her sapphire eyes those of a healer studying a patient, "But…" She said her eyes taking on the aspect of a friend, "That's it! You're completely healed!"

Karla savored those words for a moment before Jaenelle continued, "No strenuous exercise for a least a couple months… take it slow…"

Karla merely raised an eyebrow at her friend's remark, the double meaning not lost on her, "You're kidding right?"

Jaenelle merely shrugged, "Who knows the next man to lay eyes on you may fall madly in love… Your hair has grown out…"

Karla pulled lock of the ice blond hair in question forward, it now hung nearly to her hips, "Remind me to cut it…" She said with her old tart humor.

"Beloved?" said a rich male voice from the doorway. Daemon Sadi walked into the room, impossibly beautiful. He had once been uncontrollably deadly, years away from the constant abuse had allowed a gentler spirit to grow, but only a fool wishing to die would believe he wasn't still deadly. He and Jaenelle were expecting their first child in little less then eight months and any one who had ever seen the sharper side of Daemon's temper saw the change in the man who now fretted himself nearly to death of his capability of raising a child.

"Daemon, doesn't Karla look good with longer hair?" Jaenelle said turning to Daemon, who would no sooner say no to her then stop the sun from rising, which didn't entirely put it out of the realm of possibilities.

Daemon gave Karla an appraising look as she planter her hands on her hips and met him glared back, "Very tempting but I'm already taken…" he said looping one of his arms around Jaenelle's waist.

"We'd better get going… or we'll miss your own return party…" Daemon said and both women groaned.

Dress up… said the look they shared full of dread and dislike.

Another knock came from the door frame Daemon now blocked and Halaway's queen, Sylvia popped her head in, "You'd better get ready soon before Saeten comes by and does dress checks… you know how he is when he finally gets the chance to dress all of you up…"

Karla and Jaenelle when given the choice dressed in old well-worn clothes comfortable but not fashionable. Saeten, Daemon's father and Jaenelle's adoptive father was infamous for his preference that they dress nicely. But the girls had found an ally in his new wife, Sylvia, who shared their opinion that anything a witch like to wear was feminine and anything she didn't like to wear wasn't.

Daemon offer his arms to his Step mother and his wife, "Ladies…" and when they both took his arms he led them down the hall and Karla closed her door so she could change into her outfit for the evening. She used Craft to support herself as she put on her dress. She zipped it partially the up when there came a knock on her door, "Yes?" she called as she recognized the psychic scent.

A Grey-jeweled witch walked into the room her dress clinging to her richly curved figure and slit up the sides to allow her freedom of movement, "Here…" she said putting a small box on the table as she zipped the dress the rest of the way up, "It's a gift from all of us…"

Karla opened the box to see a matching pair of earrings and pendant of ice blue that matched Karla's eyes. Karla put them on and hugged Surreal before switching back to the usually impish personality, "let's see how many males we can ruffle up…"

They walked down to the lowest level of the Keep were the first and second circles of the former Dark Court gathered to celebrate, her recovery being the excuse they used to gather. The ancient Prince of dragons sat up by the throne watching within whom, the gift he and his race had bestowed, now rested. His Queen stood beside him, no longer in dragon's true form her features retained a draconic cast, "We chose right…" she said and he agreed.