Disclaimer: Anne Bishop owns the Black Jewels, not me. I just love the characters a lot, especially Saetan.

Kaeleer, Dhemlan Province, Halaway

The Daughter

She walked through the garden, heading for home. She was not hurrying, but her strides were long and easy, making the Sceltie trot to stay beside her. The dark hair was clipped back, partially upswept. That was practical; it kept it out of her face while allowing the length to stay fairly long.

Bethani SaDiablo liked to think of herself as a practical person.

She glanced up at the Hall which rose above, on her left. SaDiablo Hall was massive, all the more impressive when one knew it stood in all three Realms, the only family hall to do so. The Hall in Terreille was in ruins, destroyed by its owner in a fit of rage two thousand years ago. But the Halls in Kaeleer and Hell remained.

Fifty thousand years ago their father had built the family seat as a statement of his power and wealth. But he and his family didn't live there any longer. Eldest brother Daemon, Prince Sadi, with his wife, Jaenelle Angelline, who was Witch, and their three children, now used it as their main residence.

Their other brother, Lucivar Yaslana, one of the greatest Eyrien warriors in the history of the Blood, lived with his family on the other side of the mountains, in the Keep at Ebon Rih in Askavi.

Both elder brothers were dark-jeweled Warlord Princes. Daemon wore the Black, Lucivar wore Ebon-gray. They were also the rulers of Territories, unlike most of their caste. Daemon ruled the Dhemlan territories in Kaeleer and Terreille, while Lucivar ruled over the Queens in the smaller province of Ebon Rih.

Her parents spent half the year in the village of Halaway, where her mother was Queen. The rest of the time they lived at the Keep at Ebon Askavi, a fact that had made her and her brother's friends gulp nervously.

She and Aidan didn't understand that reaction when they were children. To them Draca, the Seneschal, was as sweet as she was ancient, a kind of surrogate, if somewhat alien, grandmother. Geoffrey, the Keep's Librarian who was also from a long-dead race, was an indulgent uncle-figure who could sometimes be coaxed into telling them the most amazing stories about their father and brothers.

No matter how many stories they heard, they always wanted to hear more. And there always were more, because Papa had a lot of history behind him.

Papa was Saetan Daemon SaDiablo – the High Lord of Hell, the Prince of the Darkness, High Priest of the Hourglass, the first Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince and male Black Widow. Formerly the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan, twenty-five years ago he married Sylvia, District Queen of the village of Halaway.

He was also a Guardian, and had been alive for over fifty thousand years.

His marriage sent shockwaves through all three Realms. No ancient Guardian had ever kept such strong ties to the Living Realm. Certainly none of the living dead had ever before gotten married at Saetan's advanced age, let alone had children!

But as Daemon said with his wry smile, it wasn't as if there was anyone who was going to stop the High Lord from doing anything he wanted to do.

Well, there was Lorn, legendary Prince of the Dragons, the last of his kind. He was not only the Darkness that infused the Keep, his scales were the Jewels the Blood were given. He had the power to stop Saetan. But he wouldn't, because Lorn had given his approval of Saetan's marriage.

Witch, the living myth, dreams made flesh, could have stopped Saetan with only a word. But she also approved – in fact Jaenelle had performed the ceremony as Priestess.

Most Guardians grew weary of the half-life, fading into the Dark Realm either by choice or the gradual loss of Jeweled power.

But Jaenelle was the finest Healer in the Realms. Once a week without fail, she dosed her adoptive father with strengthening potions, which he eyed with dismay but dutifully swallowed. They kept him vigorous and healthy, a handsome man nearing the end of his prime. Tall, slender, with the dark hair and brown skin of the Hayllian race, gold eyes with dark lashes and arched brows, the High Lord was an attractive man to many women.

More than that, he possessed a seductive grace which he had passed on to his fourth son. Daemon Sadi, who was even more beautiful than their father, was legendary for his ability to seduce any woman and most men, Geoffrey told them. But everyone knew Jaenelle Angelline was the only woman in his heart.

And like their brothers, the father was lethal, dangerous, and violent, as all Warlord Princes are.

Being their father as well as their mother's husband, Saetan was also kind, generous, thoughtful, wise, and fun. He was, however, strict when it came to their obeying the Code of Honor all Blood live by. Their lessons in Protocol were lengthy and even stricter. Because of who they were – because of what they were, his children – the twins were taught the history of all three Realms, not just what happened in the Shadow Realm.

But once lessons were over, fun was not only allowed, but encouraged. Sometimes it was just the two of them; often they played with their rambunctious "cousins", who were close to their age although they were actually nephews and nieces, a fact she and Aidan always found hilarious.

Nor was it unusual for their older siblings and parents to join in and really raise dust. Jaenelle possessed a mischievous sense of humor, with a charm that could coax even their beloved Papa to forget his dignity sometimes.

"She was always a hellion, you know," Geoffrey said, a twinkle in his black eyes. "I can't count how many times your father was left speechless trying to deal with her – sometimes with anger, sometimes in exasperation, sometimes with laughter. She looked like such a frail little wisp of a girl, but she would do the most amazing things that could send a strong man into hysterics. We – me, Saetan, Mephis, Andulvar, Prothvar – would look at her sometimes, then we'd look at each other and all we could do was shrug. Because there was nothing we could do, as your father pointed out, except to love her and be there for her."

Their father had adopted Jaenelle when she was twelve, and trained Witch as she grew. Bethani and Aidan were so proud when young to know their Papa was her Papa. For obviously, if you could choose someone, there was no better Papa in any of the three Realms.

It was amazing to hear Papa had spent thousands of years by himself. The Family was so large these days, sometimes it felt you couldn't go anywhere without running into one of them.

There was Daemonar and Ruthvian, their Eyrien nephew and niece. And Daemon's children, son Rhaymon and the other set of twins, Karla and Kerin.

There was Cousin Surreal and her husband, Butler, and their daughter Larraine. Cousin Wilhemina, her husband Lyle, with their children: Jon, Alexia, and Bryan.

And then there was a host of adopted aunts and uncles who had formed Jaenelle's First and Second Circles, most of whom ruled various Provinces and Territories and had their own children.

Now that she and Aidan were adults, the twins could look back and marvel at the charmed childhood they had enjoyed.

They had played stickball with the Scelties in Queen Morghann's court, and slid down the terrifying steep slopes of Glacia's snowy mountains on wooden sleds with Della, Queen Karla's adopted daughter. They helped their parents harvest pickleberries on the Fyreborn Islands for the even more terrifying Mrs. Beale at the Hall, who was the best cook in the Living Realms.

Brother Lucivar and brother-by-marriage Kelsevar would carry them high into the skies, to glide over the gently curving Heartsblood River in Shalador Nehele, or on a heart-stoppingly fast plunge through the canyons at Askavi.

Warlord Prince Sceron of the centaurs gave them rides on his back. Prince Chaosti of the Dea al Mon, Cousin Surreal's people, taught them to track noiselessly through the forest trees, then trained them how to handle a knife until they could split the stem of a grass stalk at fifteen paces.

They petted the noses of shining unicorns, feeding them carrots. There were the wolf pups, descendants of Prince Smoke at the Hall and Prince Tassle at Ebon Rih, always ready for a game of rough-and-tumble, or pretend-stalking.

They played with the fierce young Arcerian kittens, whose parents had the most amazing ability to sight-shield themselves even from the darker-jeweled Blood. Cousin Della had lived for two weeks in an Arcerian cat's den when she was first orphaned, and could claim Warlord Prince KaeAskavi as her den-brother, for which all her many adoptive cousins envied her tremendously.

Astonishing to think of a time when those in Terreille tried to make a case for slaughtering the Kindred and stealing their land because they were 'only animals with a a few tricks!'

*Some humans are stupid,* Gleeda said, giving a tail-tip wag as Bethani glanced down at her, smiling. A glitter of a Rose Jewel gleamed through her brown-and-black coat.

*Yes, but not all of them.*

*No. The Lady's humans are smart. They can be trained.*

Bethani's smile became a grin. Kindred thought in animal terms, even when they knew the humans had their own words for objects or ideas. So leather pants, for instance, were usually referred to as "cow-skin".

Humans were divided into two groups: 'the Lady's', which meant Jaenelle Angelline, for those who were friends to the Kindred. The larger group consisted of humans who were afraid of, or didn't like the Kindred. They were the group for whom the forest wolves and Arcerian cats used a phrase that translated as 'stupid meat'. Even the Scelties, who were fond of "their" humans – 'stubborn sheep' was their usual grumble when dealing with a particularly annoying two-foot – would nip fast enough if the humans didn't behave properly.

Though she had grown up with Kindred, it was different to actually work for one. She had been in Basic service at several Halls since the age of twelve, starting with her family Hall and ending at Cousin Wilhemina's manor, when her parents came to visit her. They asked if she might be interested in working next in Terreille, for Jaenelle's pet project, sending small groups of young Blood aristos to help in the still-devastated courts.

Of course she was. Even though her father warned, "This won't be easy, or simple. These people have had a hard time, and even after all these years, things are still not settled down."

But she wanted to do this, so she entered service for a year in Queen Rhahn's court in Dena Nehele. Rhahn was Sceltie, a Green-Jeweled Kindred. Sent to Grayhaven Manor by Witch, she was helping them learn the Old Ways again.

The few Warlords who were left – less than thirty – were tough fighting men, but they'd lost so many of their traditions and culture, it was shocking. She came with a dozen others from Kaeleer to help Rhahn's First Circle, to both teach and be taught. Cousin Larraine was one of her group. She took charge of the reading group that took the books on Protocol they had brought and distributed them out to the four Provinces. They didn't just drop off packages in the villages and hope they would be read in the spare time hardly anyone had, trying to keep their people fed and clothed.

Instead, the youngsters would stay for two months at a time, in different parts of the provinces. They shared rooms with a host family to learn what those day-to-day lives were really like. One of their duties was to read aloud every evening for an hour, four times a week – not just the Protocol books, but stories and histories of the three Realms which they had brought along as well.

During the daytime, they worked alongside their hosts. The young men helped in the fields, or built sturdy furniture for Blood and Landen families who had almost nothing left. They put on new roofs, chinked walls, repaired doors and window shutters and fences.

The young woman, including Larraine and Bethani, also worked in the fields, doing the sowing or winnowing. They repaired workclothes and helped make meals. They planted gardens and watched over little children.

It was hard, exhausting work, but it was the most rewarding thing she'd ever done. The look in people's eyes when they saw aristo children giving time and sweat to help, instead of just taking and abusing – she had made friends there, good friends. Not fashionable, idle society people, but hard-working folks trying to keep body and soul together to survive the harsh winters.

It was a way of life to open their eyes, and make one better appreciate the lives they had, after their contracts were up and they could go home. Several of her original group returned to help again, something that happened quite often, Jaenelle told them with satisfaction. Cousin Larraine was on her third contract, although she said this was going to be her last.

Bethani's mind returned to the present as the Sceltie barked excitedly, running down a curving side path.

*Aidan!* Gleeda's tail wagged again as she bounded over to greet her favorite human.

Laughing, her twin knelt down. "No way to ever sneak up on anyone with a Sceltie around," he grinned, then gently roughhoused the Sceltie. "Hello, beautiful! Hell's fire, has Bethani been crawling under the redberry thickets again? I'm going to have to give you a good brushing when we get back, or Mother won't let you in the house with those burrs in your coat."

Gleeda wiggled happily as strong fingers scratched along her spine. *We went to Dharo,* the Sceltie whined. *Hanlee and I played 'chase' with the puppies.*

Aidan looked up at his sister. "And how are Sabrina and her 'pups' doing?"

She hooked her thumbs into her belt. "Everyone's fine. Grayson's birth celebration is coming up next month. She'll be throwing a big party, as always, and we're invited – also as always."

Sabrina, the Territory Queen of Dharo, was a childhood friend of their sister Jaenelle. She had been a member of Witch's court, and was one of their favorite "aunts". Their mother Sylvia had known Jaenelle and her friends even before they had made their Offerings to the Darkness, when they had all come to stay at the Hall for one memorable summer.

"We turned everything upside-down," laughed Jaenelle. "I think poor Papa aged a couple of millennia in those few weeks!"

It had never bothered their mother that she was only a District Queen, consorting with more powerful Territory Queens and Black Widows. Sylvia was content with the village of Halaway, and Saetan – well, Saetan still ruled all of Hell, and might have remained the Warlord Prince of both Dhemlan territories, if he had wished.

With his Black Jewels, he could have ruled all three Realms...and with his two powerful sons at his side, established a dynastic rule to last countless millenia.

The fact that he hadn't, as Geoffrey told them long ago, meant something very important.

"Your father has upheld the Old Ways of the Blood all his life. It means he takes his duty and honor seriously. The First Rule for a Warlord Prince is to protect. When Saetan gives his word to protect someone, he'll give his life, his Jewels, everything he is, to live up to that word. When someone like that defends not just one Queen, but so many others, it's a heavy responsibility. Never underestimate how much blood can be spilled, how many thousands will die, when you give your word of honor. It has cost Saetan dearly – friends and family – to protect those who depended upon him."

Her brother rose to his feet and fell in alongside her, as Gleeda bounded ahead of them. "Lucivar and Marian will be with us for dinner."

"With Ruthvian?" Daemonar, older by sixteen years, was off at an Eyrian training exercise, a mock "killing field" battle. He was a Warlord Prince with a Birthright Red Jewel, and almost as good a warrior as his father.

"Yes, she'll be back from Terreille in time."

Ruthvian was closer to their age, only six years older. She was an easy-tempered, cheerful witch who wore a Birthright Green Jewel. She often visited her maternal grandmother, usually going alone since Marian wasn't close to her family any longer, except for Lirian and Kelsevar.

"My family isn't like the SaDiablos," Marian once confessed to them, shrugging. "My father was a social climber, and a mean, petty sort of man. We do send money regularly to my mother every month, but—" she shrugged again, looking sad. "My brothers and sisters, except for Lirian, are always seeking more money from us."

She had sighed. "If they really needed funds, we'd help, of course. But they're just trying to make me feel guilty, so they can get their hands on some of the SaDiablo gold. That's the trouble with being rich, you see. A lot of people try to be friendly, but they won't really mean it. They just want something from you for free."

Taking a batch of nutcakes out of the oven, she put them on a rack to cool. Then she added, "I was so lucky when I ended up here at Ebon Rih. I have a wonderful husband, and a brother and sister who love me and don't look down on me for being just a Purple Dusk-jeweled hearth witch. And best of all, there's Saetan. I think he's been more of a father to me than my own father ever was. Such a wonderful, wonderful man. You don't know how fortunate you two are, having a father like that."

As Bethani and Aidan reached the house, the door opened for them. Holt, their butler, formerly a footman up at the Hall, had replaced Armind, their mother's old butler, when he asked to retire.

"The Queen is due back in an hour. The High Lord is in his study, and has asked not to be disturbed. Dinner is set for seven," he advised them. "Your second brother, his wife and daughter will be arriving half an hour before the bell."

"Good, enough time for a bath. Thank you, Holt," said Aidan with a smile, and the twins ran up the stairs to their rooms.

By the time Bethani walked into her bedroom, the bath was ready and her dinner outfit laid out on the bed. Clarey, her personal maid, had been alerted as soon as she stepped off the Landing by a quick distaff message from Gleeda, who knew very well what her humans' routines were.

Bethani stripped off her trousers and shirt, then stepped into the steaming-hot water of the tub. She could have a good long soak before Clary came back in to help her put up her hair.

She loved the new outfit. The flowing skirt was in the fashionable three-quarters' length. It was patterned in marbelized swirls of color, reds and rusty browns and muted greens, printed on golden yellow silk. With it she would wear a simple top of leaf-green silk trimmed in dark red, designed with a scoop neck and short sleeves to show off the gold chain and ruby cabochon pendant Papa had purchased for her almost two years previous. She liked jewelry, and owned a good-sized collection of it. Jeweled pins for her hair were also out on the sidetable.

Sometimes receiving such service still caught her by surprise. Unlike most of her peers, she hadn't been allowed a personal maid, except on special occasions, until she reached her twentieth birthday.

It was a privilege she would not take for granted, knowing it hadn't been given to her before now because her parents wanted her to understand the value of work, and to appreciate service when received.

As Queen Cassidy once told her, a Queen should never be afraid of hard work.

She would – someday soon, she hoped – make her parents proud of her.