Omigosh FINALLY! I'm really sorry about how late this is, guys. Hopefully the content makes up for lateness! I'm working hard to make sure to start catching up with the other chapters. Anyway, there is a lot to talk about. Firstly, thank you to my beta reader, The Diamond Sorceress, she is amazing! Also, check out my profile guys, it now has proper name pronounciations, and personal updates from moi so you can see kind of where I am. Thank you everyone who has reviewed/added me to their watch lists! I love feedback.

Hope you guys like this chapter, a note for part 4: dances are NOTHING without good music, so I have a few musical suggestions that you listen to in order to get the true feeling I invisioned for that scene. In order: 1:Kecharitomene-Loreena McKennit, 2:Cartoch-Blackmore's Night, 3:Incantation-Loreena McKennit, 4:Ebudae-Enya, 5:The Memory of the Trees-Enya, (the name fits perfectly!) Anyway, those are suggestions to kind of get the mood I'm going for in those. Let me know how it works out, hope you guys enjoy!

~Chapter 3~

1/Delacova

Adele sat on the ledge of her balcony, basking in the morning sunlight and looking over the spacious yard and beyond to the forest that had been her playground since she was little. A brisk ride through the forest would do her some good before her studies, and then to her favorite private spot to have a quiet lunch. She briefly entertained the idea of bringing Delphine along, since they wouldn't have much time together before leaving for their training, but thought better of it. Adele was a Queen, and Queens need time alone with the land sometimes to listen to all it had to say. Smiling in anticipation, she hopped off the ledge, hoping a servant hadn't seen her and gone off to tell her mother. The thought sent her scurrying into her room to change into her riding outfit.

As she emerged, Adele almost ran into a female servant who had reached her hand up to knock on her door. Adele looked at her with a surprised blink before smiling. "Morning."

The maid blushed. "Good morning, young mistress." She had an odd look in her eyes as she smiled at Adele. "Your parents would like to see you downstairs in the family room." Adele's eyebrows shot up. "Oh," she said, but didn't get anything more out of the woman as she hurried off to her other duties.

Smiling to herself, Adele turned and started heading down to the "family room," a term her mother had insisted on using for the largest sitting room in the manor. It seemed silly, but her mother had always stressed the need for family interaction and closeness, and they did spend most of their together time in the room.

As she entered the family room, the last person she expected to see was sitting right across from her parents. Adele's eyes widened, and a slight blush colored her cheeks.

"Adam?" she sputtered, blinking and looking back and forth from him to her parents.

Her mother beamed at her, fluffing her long locks with a twinkle in her eye that Adele didn't much care for. Her father… Taylor still had the strong, lean body of a honed warrior, which spoke of his earlier years serving as a guard in the Territory Queen's court; despite his years, golden blonde hair was only beginning to grey at the temples. He held himself with pride and poise as he spoke quietly to his guest, the Sapphire Jewel around his neck glowing softly. Looking up, he caught her eye with the same contained amusement as her mother. Whatever had happened to parental overprotection and all that?

"Adele, why don't you come sit down," her father said cheerily as he motioned for her to sit next to her mother…and closest to their guest.

She obeyed, wary eyes never leaving Adam. And there he sat, his clothes informal but still in good taste, watching her as well. He smiled at her with his fingers laced together and one leg crossed over the other, as if he had every right to barge into her house and nonchalantly have a little chit-chat with her parents.

"As I was saying," he said, "I came because I had the pleasure of meeting Adele a week ago at the ball our family hosted. Unfortunately, I'm afraid our time together was too brief for my liking, and so I came to see if the Lady wouldn't object in spending the morning with me."

Adele's eyebrows shot up in surprise—such a blatant invitation was both galling and polite, since he had come here unannounced and yet asked her parent's permission. She was still searching for an answer as he took in her riding clothes, one perfect eyebrow rising in interest. "And since the Lady is already dressed for it, might I suggest we enjoy a ride together on this fine day?"

Adele instantly flushed but managed to regain her composure. There had to be a way out of this yet. And there it was. Adele smiled at Adam with sweet malevolence.

"That would be lovely, Prince, except for the fact that you unfortunately do not seem to have any riding clothes on you, and no horse in to take." She straightened as she spoke, her hands collected delicately in her lap, but her eyes stabbed at him as her verbal thrust hit. He just gave her a rueful smile and sat back in his seat.

"Too true, but it just so happens I have my riding clothes in the carriage outside, and I'm sure Lady Ashlyn wouldn't be opposed to me borrowing one of your horses for a few hours." Not exactly as dashed as she'd hoped. Resisting the urge to hiss, she looked at her mother as she chimed in.

"Of course, it would be no trouble at all. You can take Shinedown." Her mother grinned at her, and Adele knew she was in on it. She clamped her teeth together in frustration, telling herself that ladies did not shriek and stomp about their family's living room in front of a guest just because they had been backed into a corner.

"Well, that settles it then, but I'll warn you two not to go outside the village's territory."

Her father gave her a wink and turned away. Heading off to his study to plot her marriage, no doubt. She watched her mother bounce up and excuse herself to the kitchen to go make them a lunch to take with them. Standing slowly, amusement bright in his eyes as he nodded to her, Adam hurried to the front of the house to get his riding gear.

Adele blinked, confused and bewildered at how fast all of this had happened. It was like a hurricane had just whipped her up, tossed her about like a rag doll, and spit her out. She raised a hand, amazed that it was not shaking, and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Hopefully she'd be able to survive the morning.


Traitors, the lot of them, Adele thought menacingly as they rode in silence through the forest. Everyone had been enthusiastic as they had saddled up the horses and brought them out—even the maid who had scurried out of the house with their lunches looked a little bit too flushed, and it had nothing to do with running. They had practically had their own farewell party on their way out, and every single one of the people there seemed to have a perfectly good reason why they simply had to be outside at that very moment.

She shot Adam a shy, sidelong glance; He looked perfectly at ease with their silence, just enjoying the morning and her company. She took a moment to study his features, a face with a strong but slender jaw line, green eyes that seemed calm and collected, as if the tense scene at the ball had never taken place. His tanned skin looked warm, especially when it was bathed in the morning sunlight. His orangey hair stood out brightly against his darker skin and clothes, fiery and alive against the softer natural colors around him: the passion of a Warlord Prince. Everything they did was passionate; anything with feeling was taken to the next level: love, hate, anger, violence. But all that was so easy to forget as she gazed over at him now.

As if he sensed her eyes on him, he turned, eyebrows raised slightly in silent questioning, a slight smile on his lips. "Something wrong?"

His smile was contagious. She shook her head and looked forward. "No, but I am a bit confused," she admitted, glancing over at him.

"That's understandable. You wake up one day to find someone you met less than a week ago having a chat with your parents, and the next thing you know, here we are, riding together completely alone." He turned to face her completely. "Are you afraid of me?" His eyes narrowed, his tone and every line in his body serious. Oh, she knew he meant it as a threat—she glanced at the Green Jewel resting on his chest as it glowed with stored power, knew he could destroy her if he wanted. But she was a Queen; she knew how to handle males. It was more than training: it was instinct, a part of what she was, and in that moment the Queen took over, looking at the Warlord Prince with measured calm.

"No," She said simply, "but I am cautious of you. I know you have to be handled with care, and you're not a man to be taken lightly." Her voice softened. "You're a Warlord Prince, Adam. I wouldn't expect anything different of you."

He relaxed visibly, letting out his breath in a rush of air and offering her a quick smile. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that. Every other female besides my little sister is either scared silly of me or wants…" He couldn't finish, and Adele jumped in for him.

"Wants your power, but doesn't want you."

Understanding filled her eyes. He nodded, staring at her, reaching out for her with those eyes. Filled with pain, locked away in rejection because of who and what he was. Pity and anger surged in Adele; the need to protect him took hold. He deserved better than this. But what could she, a woman and a member of the same sex that had inflicted this pain on him, do to help? Why would he even want her help? Ashamed of her gender and confused about what to do with this damaged Warlord Prince, Adele turned her head, looking straight ahead as they continued on and the silence lengthened.

The silence stretched on, and the tension grew until it became a wall between them that neither could breach.


Once they had laid out the blanket in a sun-drenched meadow, Adele sat down, stretching her legs out in front of her and leaning back on her hands. She smiled lazily as Adam settled down next to her effortlessly, sitting cross-legged with his hands on his knees. Hoping to alleviate some of the previous tension and make amends, she cocked her head at him and said as sweetly as she could, "Could you get the lunch out for me?

Smiling uneasily back, he reached out and started setting up the generous lunch her mother had packed for them. By the time he had gotten it ready, his mood seemed to have improved. He was a Blood male, and Blood males protected and served, so giving him the opportunity to do something that would aid a female would help him get in control of his emotions and satisfy an innate need at the same time. He offered her the warm sandwich that had been kept in a spelled wrap; she accepted it and began to unwrap it.

"Thank you, Prince," she said formally with a hint of a grin under the strict guise.

He returned the grin. "You're welcome, Lady."

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the natural sounds of the woods around them. His company was much more enjoyable now that the melancholy mood had passed.

"You know…" he said speculatively, eyeing the almost completely eaten food, "your mother is an amazing cook for an aristo witch."

Adele bristled automatically. "Yes, she's a hearth witch and an amazing aristo Lady. Better than sitting on your ass all day and doing nothing." Her eyes blazed with hot anger as she stared at him. "My mother's just someone who enjoys working with her hands and creating things. There's nothing wrong with that." When his laughter rang out through the clearing, Adele wanted to rip his guts out.

"I meant no offense, Lady," he said breathlessly as he rocked forward again to look at her. "I was simply stating that she is an amazing and talented woman…just like her daughter. It doesn't matter what caste or social rank she is."

Adele gaped at him for a moment before flushing and looked away. When he laughed softly, she peeked up at him from under her bangs; he was wearing an easy grin, but something about his face made her realize he was nervous, too. Wild-shy, she lowered her eyes again, too nervous to speak.

Adam sighed gustily, and Adele looked up to see him running a hand through his orange hair. Seeing him so flustered was so...fascinating, and exciting at the same time. The butterflies that had been lying dormant in her stomach since the ball took flight again.

"Listen, Adele, I'm going to be honest with you, because…well, I think that's the way it's supposed to be done with us."

Her head perked up, but her eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "Us? Because we're young?"

He shook his head, his face set in a severe expression, like he was concentrating on something hard—or thinking about something. The breath caught in Adele's throat; her heartbeat quickened as she looked at that intense face.

"No. Because I'm a Warlord Prince."

She said nothing because she had no answer for that. What in the name of hell was he talking about? He sighed again, paused as if thinking about something, then shook his head.

"I asked for you to accompany me today because, well…at the party, you…" He growled in frustration, and the butterflies fluttered frantically, brushing their wings against her the edges of her stomach. "You…interested me," he finished lamely, seeming even more frustrated. "And what I wanted to say was...what I wanted to ask you was, if you would accept my courtship."

It took Adele a few breathless moments to decipher that question; meanwhile, the butterflies were having a field day in her stomach. When she finally did manage to understand what he had just asked her, she felt the familiar urge to flee like a rabbit, and at the same time felt like she could roar like a lion. She took a breath to steady herself—it wasn't like it had been disguised in any way. It seemed so painfully obvious now that this was what the whole situation was all about: Adam had asked her parents already, and they had agreed. She wanted to kick herself for her own stupidity.

Adele looked up at Adam. He was a pleasant person, handsome, and genuinely interested in her—a worthy suitor. The word brought color to her cheeks and made her breathless, but more than all that, she liked him. She realized it now, that she had been getting more and more interested in Adam and wanted to know more about her mysterious Warlord Prince suitor.

A warm feeling settled in her stomach as she looked up into his eyes. "I will accept your offer, Prince Adam." He grinned widely and bounded up, holding his hand out to her. She paused for a moment, nervous, then took his hand. Pulling her up, he lead her off the blanket with a sweeping grace that made her blush more.

"Allow me to clean up so we can be on our way, Lady," he offered, voice sending thrills of pleasure rolling down her spine.

She nodded, and he went to work cleaning up their little picnic while she admired the sunny meadow. With her hands clasped behind her back, she walked about, enjoying the brisk fall morning that was swiftly turning into a beautiful afternoon. She needed a moment or two to clear her thoughts, but after Adam's back was turned she broke out into a furious grin—she felt so happy she thought she might burst. There was just no way to contain it.

By the time she had made a full rotation, Adam was finished and standing next to her, his body shaking slightly with intensity. She froze, feeling that tension in him, and the nerves that drove it, and her own body trembled in response.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, each unsure what to do or what not to do. Adam broke the locked gaze first, lifting a hand and running it through Adele's long hair. She watched, mystified, as his hand gently pulled up and through the strawberry-blonde strands. She shifted her eyes to look at his face, which was just as entranced as she knew hers must be. Feeling her eyes on him, those green eyes looked up to capture her gaze. His eyes were so intense, it was as if he could see right through all her inner barriers just with his eyes. It was as thrilling as it was terrifying. They stared for a few moments before he laughed nervously and turned towards the horses.

"I'd better take you home. I shouldn't keep you from your studies, and it would be best for our first outing if I returned you home early." His eyes were amused, and at the moment, she didn't care if he took her home at midnight.


When they rode up to the estate, Adam heard Adele groan as she saw her sister waiting at the stables to greet them. The young woman was perched against the wall with her arms folded, giving the two of them a toothy grin that made him extremely nervous and sweaty without knowing exactly why.

"Lady Delphine," Adam greeted her formally as they rode up.

"Adam," she responded informally. He dismounted evenly, ignoring the verbal slap and turned to help Adele, only to find her already off her horse and glaring hotly at her sister.

"I apologize for my sister's insolence, Prince, she-"

"Well, I just thought that since your relationship had reached this stage, we'd drop the whole formality crap and just get straight down to business."

Adele hissed and looked like she was about to burst. "You think an awful lot."

Feeling sweat starting to form on his forehead, Adam licked his lips and stepped forward. Delphine was a tart witch, and normally he would have been reluctant to approach her because of the way he had been treated by other females like her—but the fact that she was Adele's sister was something he could not ignore. He wanted very much to be in her favor right now. More to the point, he didn't want to have to break up or even get anywhere near either of them when whatever was simmering between them boiled over.

"Delphine is right: it would be better to regarded each other informally."

He kept a deliberately blank look on his face as Adele turned her suddenly hawkish gaze on him. Apparently he had passed the test, because she sighed and took her mare's reins, starting to walk her towards the stables.

"So, what were you two doing in the forest together?" Delphine's question was innocent enough, but there was nothing innocent about the accusing tone and wicked smile that bloomed as she looked at her sister, who instantly bristled in response. Mother Night, did this witch enjoy pissing people off so much? Probably, he answered himself dryly—all one had to do was look at her face.

"That is none of your business, sister," Adele replied icily from a few paces away.

"I'll help you with her," Delphine offered as followed.

Adam's insides turned to jelly. Mother Night that woman is insane! At that moment, a stable boy came forward and took Adele's horse from her, and another took Adam's. The girls headed back to him, Adele's expression carefully neutral, Delphine's was openly grumpy. He coughed to hide a chuckle and decided that he had judged Delphine too quickly. He liked the girl, even if her tongue was sharp. She was honest and very intuitive, and she loved her sister very much.

"Let's go into the house," Delphine said as she hustled them in, and after a quick farewell to their parents, Adam was escorted quickly out and wished a merry day before he got the door slammed in his startled face.

Suppressing a growl, he turned and headed to the coach he'd summoned, hauled himself inside. While he could admire Delphine for her wit and her honesty, he had to admit, the little witch was going to be a thorn in his side, and damnit, they both knew it. Still, as the coach rolled into action, he couldn't help but smile as he thought over the morning he had spent at the Ashlyn Manor.

2/Delacova

Adam sat within the confines of his family's carriage and tried his best not to fidget. He was excited about this year's Festival of Thanks in a way that he hadn't been in the past five years. Adele's face appeared in his mind, and his stomach twinged with the first promise of butterflies. They were going to spend the whole festival day together, and though they wouldn't truly be alone, as Adele had her friends and he had his, it was still a date...sort of. A date. His stomach gave another funny little twinge.

Because he needed a distraction from the terror of his own thoughts, Adam looked out of the window. All of Tirrador was ablaze with color this time of year. It was the changing season, and the trees that covered his wooded homeland were dancing their last in full glory before sleeping for the winter.

The Festival of Thanks was an important holiday to the people of Tirrador. All the Blood gathered in communities to celebrate the fruitful gatherings of the season and to dance once more before winter set in. The connection to the land was an important thing, especially for the Blood. So they made merry for the entire day, laughing and playing, then they feasted together and danced until nightfall. When the time came, the people would gather and perform a community ceremony to thank the land and the Darkness for all they had been given, and to give back to the land. This gift would strengthen it for the coming winter months and establish their connection with the land they had been charged to protect and cherish. It was in no way as sacred to them as Winsol--the celebration to honor Witch—but to those who depended on trees and were at the mercy of the winter for so many months, thanking the land for all it had given them was vital.

"Addy, are you queasy?" Ivy's voice interrupted his thoughts and drew his eyes to her little face. She sat next to him, her face inquisitive as she looked him over. He smiled at patted her head as he looked up at the carriage's other occupants.

"I'm fine, squirt."

Sybilla was fixing her makeup in a compact mirror that she held in front of her face. The Festival of Thanks was a largely outdoors event, seeing as it was the Blood's connection to the land, but apparently no one had informed his mother of this fact. She wore a dress that was just short of being a formal evening gown; and while she was wearing the traditional fall colors of the festival, Adam knew she only attended because it was a chance to make an appearance...and to scope out the newest "friend."

Next to her, his father looked out the window, pretending to admire the view of the trees, pretending not to notice his wife's gaudy outfits that showed off her body, or her numerous male "friend" callers. Or staying at work late to allow her time to clean up after herself and be presentable to her husband when he came home. Yes, there was much his father pretended to do. Trying to hide his disgust, Adam looked at his younger brother, Valentine. Though he was older than Ivy, he was still a few years younger than Adam. That still didn't make him any less of a pompous, spoiled brat.

Valentine Lathan had been spoiled rotten from the moment he had been born. Adam had been treated that way, doted upon from dawn until dusk, fed sweets until his teeth would fall out. But that was before Khevin had gotten his hands on the beast he had been and taught him how to really live his life. His father ran a very successful business, and probably had wanted Adam, as his oldest son, to take over for him, so Adam had spent the first few years of his life being carefully groomed to his father's liking. And then Khevin had come into Adam's life and showed him how to be a boy, ruining all their careful training.

Unfortunately, his father still needed an heir, so the duty was passed onto the next son in line. So, Adam was discarded as "hopeless" and left to his own designs while Valentine was groomed to rule their father's business, much to his liking. Noticing his elder brother's glance, Valentine looked up and gave Adam a smug grin before going back to eating his lollipop, fat fingers curled around the stick greedily, as if he thought Adam might snatch it from him.

No, it was too late for Valentine; Adam had been too young to understand what was going on when he was born, but by the time Ivy was born, Adam snatched his littlest sibling up and put her under his protective wing to keep her safe from his parents and their conniving schemes. He had always regretted letting Valentine fall into his father's hands, regretted the spoiled brat he had become, but he couldn't save his brother.

And then there was her, the crème of the crop, the grand jewel of their broken family. Aveline. He suppressed a snarl; his eldest sister was, thank the Darkness, not with them. She had sneeringly announced that she would not be joining them and would be going with her friends to the Festival. Adam doubted she would even attend at all, what with how "busy" she had been the past week. And it wasn't just the usual—she seemed to have a purpose this time, she hadn't even tried badgering him with her stupid friends lately. Hells fire, he had hardly seen her at all the past week. She kept herself locked in her room for the most part, and met with lots of different people at all hours. The Darkness only knew what she was planning; he could only hope it was nothing to do with him.

There was no doubt about it: the Lathan family was rotten to the core.

"Will Adele be there?" his only favorite sister questioned him.

"Yes, she'll be there. You can come with me and see her if you want." Her whoop of pleasure drew a hiss from Sybilla.

"We're here," he announced as they drove into the main part of the village and the carriage pulled to a stop. With a squeal, Ivy jumped over him and hopped down the steps of the carriage, staring around with wide eyes at the bustle of people going every which way in the village. Chuckling, Adam walked up beside her just in time to have his hand grabbed and get hauled straight into the fray.

3/Delacova

Adam should have remembered how much energy a nine-year old girl could muster for holiday occasions. His little sister had dragged him all over the village, going to candy shops and stalls to look at every possible knick-knack for no discernible reason he could fathom. The little rat had even browbeat him into buying her a necklace made of seashells from a distant Territory, but as he watched her face light up with pleasure as he put it around her neck, he knew it was worth it.

Adam watched as Ivy's little brown head bobbed along the festival revelers, her shrieking laughter melting in and out of the sounds of the crowd. While his sister ran and twirled among the villagers, he kept a steady gait behind, enjoying the sights but keeping a watchful eye over his little troublemaker.

A dark hand clamped down on Ivy's shoulder, and she turned to look at a man to her side—a man Adam couldn't see. Alert and angry now, Adam slipped through the crowd, his temper rising at an alarming rate. Snarling, he reached for the man who dared to touch his sister...and found himself staring into Khevin's hazel eyes.

He blinked and tried to relax as Khevin gave him a rueful grin. "Jumpy, aren't you Adam? That's good. A Warlord Prince must always be on guard, especially when loved ones are near."

Adam growled in frustration. "But if I jump at every shadow, other people will...I just can't fit in with this temperament."

Khevin looked at him sharply. "Just because I'm not a Warlord Prince doesn't mean I don't know how they think. Do you really want to risk your loved one's lives just to save face? What happens when you relax your guard just once when it should have been up?"

Adam absorbed this while Khevin tugged on one of Ivy's curls, making her giggle. "As they say, better safe than sorry."

"Hi, Kev Kev."

Adam tried, however unsuccessfully, to hold back his snort of amusement as his friend's face heated. It was reassuring to hear that Ivy's embarrassingly childish nicknames weren't solely reserved for him.

"You still remember me, do you?" he asked dryly. "It's been five years."

Ivy smiled sweetly up at him and hugged him, smelling his shirt. "Yeah, but I remember how you smell."

"Not to mention the fact that I talked about you as much as I did," Adam added. "It's no wonder."

"I see."

Ivy stepped away, and Khevin handed her a little box. "Here you go, beautiful. Happy Festival." With a little squeal, Ivy opened the box and pulled out a pretty little necklace that Adam recognized as a Tawnar design.

They watched her put it on, the necklace tinkling gently against the seashell necklace before she resumed her little dance through the throng.

"Gifts to those you love to show your affection; and jewelry, specifically, to your lady friends to show them how much they mean to you, to compliment their beauty and remind them of you every time they see it on themselves. So they will always carry a bit of you with them."

Not so sure they were talking in such general terms as "lady friends" anymore, Adam's stomach did a queer little flutter. Just thinking of Adele looking at his gift, touching it gently while smiling and thinking of him, made him nervous and excited at the same time.

"Do you have your gift for Adele?"

"Yes."

A pause; Adam licked his lips nervously as he fingered the small box in his pocket. "Do you think she will like it?"

"Of course. You picked it out with her in mind, and that's enough in itself to show your affection. But yes, she will like it for what it is, as well. Simple so she can wear it with everyday clothing, and just a hint of you in it."

He swelled with pride and happiness as his fingers closed around the box, and a lump caught in his throat as he saw Adele and her friends come into view up ahead. Mother Night she was beautiful! Every time he saw her she got more beautiful.

"Then go tell her that."

Adam blinked and looked at his friend. His face heated. Had he said that aloud?

"Court her with affection, court her with gifts, but most importantly, court her with feeling, with your heart. Tell her how you are feeling—it helps form a closer bond if she feels you can tell her everything."

He tried to swallow that lump as they got closer. Adele wore a bright red and yellow...dress? wrapped artfully around her body, suddenly he was very glad of his present, as it would match her perfectly. Most importantly, she wouldn't realize until later that, embarrassingly enough, the jewels matched his hair color exactly. The groups got close enough so that he could see Adele's eyes shining with pleasure at the sight of him.

"Your Lady awaits, Prince."

4/Delacova

Listening to the sounds of the villagers cleaning the tables after the feast, Adam thought of the daytime events of the festival: the games, the celebrating, the merriment, and the feast. After the fun, but truly irrelevant events of the day, the entire gathering of Blood would sit together and feast. It was the last celebration and splurge of food besides Winsol before they would have to save for winter.

He looked up and saw the sun, not yet close to the horizon beyond—and the ceremony that followed—but nearing the evening nonetheless. Once the plates were cleared and put aside, the dancing would begin; and such dancing it was! Adam grinned in anticipation. Dancing of every kind, mostly joyous, happy tunes. It was nothing like the stately, stoic court dancing at balls, but every caste and social rank of Blood coming together as equals for the joy of it. It was a freeing experience, and Adam reveled in being just one of the crowd and not being put on display.

But more than all that, this year he had the most amazing partner.

Adele came up behind him and slid her fingers across his arm, through his hand, and threaded them with his. He smiled wistfully and looked down at the silver bracelet that now circled her wrist, dotted every so often with little jewels of a swirling red-and-yellow-color, the Warlord Prince in him purring with pleasure. While she wore that bracelet, it marked her as his. Before she had given him her promise, accepting his claim to her, but now it was clear to anyone. He stroked the bracelet gently, and felt a small answering: the bracelet was saturated with his psychic scent and would ward off any other male, telling him a powerful Warlord Prince had claimed her.

"You ready?" Something strange in her voice sent a shiver down his spine, even as it enticed him. She had laid a claim on him, as well—it couldn't be seen but, he knew it in his heart.

As he looked at the landscape, and then at her, he heard the drums begin to beat to a slow, gathering rhythm. His eyelids slid half closed, and he grinned at her lazily. Instead of answering her, he grabbed her hand and coaxed her to the dance floor. When they got to the large outdoor dance floor, there were already a few people who had answered the call of the drums. Shy, Adele only shifted slightly to the beat, he frowned at her. That would not do. He narrowed his eyes at her, smiling dangerously as the music began to pick up and other instruments joined in.

Just when it looked like he was either going to have to give up and let the music soothe her naturally into dancing, or else grab her and move her body himself, Delphine came from nowhere and grabbed her sister's hand. It pulled Adele's attention away from Adam, allowing her to focus on her sister, and slowly, she followed Delphine's movements. By the time the others joined them, Adele was dancing joyfully along with the rest of them.

Her blue eyes looked around and locked onto Adam's. Smiling as the music picked up yet again to a fast-paced song, she grabbed his hand as their feet began to fly. Grinning, he looked up to see Khevin dancing with Roxana and the rest dancing in a small group around him.

It was impossible to not get caught in the insane ecstasy of the music—they were all grinning like mad fools and dancing like they would never stop. Even Chris, when their eyes met, gave him a friendly smile and the two exchanged a quick little jig. It was like magic, how all their petty squabbles, all their differences could melt away with just dancing. The Fall Festival wasn't just about partying, it was about celebrating their togetherness and how they all made up part of an intricate pattern. By dancing together, every caste and every class, it reminded people that they had to work together to function as a whole. Not only to function as a village, but as the Blood who ruled and cared for the Realms.

The music began to change just a bit, the beat gradually slowing. Startled out of his trance, Adam looked up to see the sun beginning to sink below the horizon, it's violent red-orange color teased the senses and sent the land awash in a strange glow. Bathed in light, the seemingly normal grassland took on a urethral quality. Stunned into silence, his body held while the blood in him still churned, pumping fast from the dancing.

He watched the sunset in awe, lulled and excited at the same time. It was like he could feel the power rising up from the people around him, and, gradually, most of the music except for the pipes stilled until it was almost silent.

Then the Priestess called them to the ceremonial ring.

Her voice rose suddenly and hung, stinging the pure air with one piercing note. Then it fell and started an ancient song in Witch Tongue. Almost as one, the Blood stepped forward to obey her summons, gathering in their proper spots within the circle.

On the outermost ring were the non-Jeweled among the Blood; within the next the circle the Lighter-Jeweled Blood gathered according to their jewel rank and caste, the darkest jewels near the center. Then came the Priestesses, Healers, and Princes; beyond them were Black Widows and the Darker-Jeweled according to their ranks. Near the center were the Warlord Princes, forming a tight circle around center: the Queens.

Adam took his place and turned to the center of the circle, as did they all, and looked at Adele and Lady Claude, the only Queens in the village. Despite her earlier embarrassment, Adele looked calm and composed, in control. Her face was set in a confident expression as those hundreds of eyes looked at them, their leaders, for guidance.

Then the Priestess' voice called out again, bidding them all in the ancient language of Witch to gather their best to give back to the land. They all closed their eyes, and Adam began to glide down towards his inner web in the abyss. During this ceremony it always seemed effortless to reach that sacred place within himself—his inner web. Once he was settled just above the web, he began concentrating on the land and what it had given him this year, as he had been taught to do every year since he became old enough to participate in this sacred ceremony. Then a thought struck him, and the knowledge staggered him for a moment, forcing him to regain his focus to keep from being hurled blindly into the abyss. If he released the full strength that was gathered in him right now, the damage would be devastating.

They were all almost perfectly gathered to be easily eliminated with one blast of power in an outward ring. Was that why they were purposely set up this way, to show confidence and trust within each other? To trust that the Queens—in the very center of the circle and therefore in the best position to commit such a crime—would be benevolent instead of tyrannical? And that the numerous weaker Blood surrounding the middle would not turn inwards and overwhelm them while surrounded? He considered where the Warlord Princes stood, between the other Blood and the Queens—to protect, no doubt. But now they were vulnerable on two fronts: from the Blood on the outside, and the Queens at their backs. In their own way, they were all vulnerable to each other, and always had been.

Yes, Adam decided, it was about mutual trust and respect between not only the Blood and the land, but between the Blood themselves. Even knowing they could destroy each other so completely, Adam couldn't help but feel inwardly calm and proud of his people. Faced with such temptation every year and overcoming it time and time again made them even stronger. Focusing on this thought, Adam gathered his best to offer and lifted his ceremonial blade to cut his wrist in a swift stroke, letting the blood flow freely.

He opened his eyes to see that most of the villagers had already let their best flow. When he breathed in the power in the air, it bit at his tongue and stung his throat. With every eye fixed on them, Adele and Lady Claude raised their cut wrists to the heavens and said a phrase in the Old Tongue. The voices of the village followed as one after them as they let their blood, their power, flow back into the land. It would strengthen it for the coming winter and act as payment for everything they had taken from it over this last year. The delicate balance between the land and its people had to be maintained with care.

Adam counted the seconds carefully before sealing his wound with Craft. When they were done, the Priestess said the closing phrase to the ceremony, which was repeated back to her before the Blood stepped away to become simply people once again.

Even as they all began to flow away from the circle, the sacred energy and purpose of the ceremony remained with all of them as they walked away silently. Adam turned to Adele and caught her by the arm, gently but firmly holding her steady.

"You've given too much," he said a bit harshly.

She winced only slightly, but smiled without quite looking at him. "I gave everything back that I was given this year." When he just looked at her skeptically, she shrugged. "I got a lot."

He just huffed and shook his head gently.

"It was beautiful," she said softly, leaning on him just a bit.

Adam hugged her to him and used his other hand to smooth a stray hair away from her face. "Yes, it was."

5/Delacova

Christopher Deveraux sat in an informal drawing room in the Lavelle Manor House and looked at his hand of cards. He glanced up at Roxana, who sat across from him with a smug look on her face. He almost growled in frustration but swallowed it at the last second. Maybe he could get himself out of this yet. He sighed as he picked up a card and looked at it, yielding a slight lift of her eyebrows; a spark of interest came to life in her eyes.

He sighed. Then again, maybe not. For all her caring, gentle disposition, the witch could sure gut a man when it came to playing cards. Even he, a Warlord Prince, couldn't match her viciousness when she cut him down one play at a time until he finally threw his cards down, sighing in defeat. She hid her grin behind her cards before gently placing them down on the table. His lip twitched as he looked at her formidable hand.

"Best two out of three?" Roxana said meekly, trying to look innocent as he glared at her. Trying not to look too smug, she stood and brushed off her pants. "Perhaps not. Are you hungry? We can go grab something from the kitchen."

"Brilliant," he said, smiling at her with brittle humor. "Something you can't cheat at."

She didn't look at him as she turned and headed towards the kitchen, but she called over her shoulder, "Cheating is just another way for sore losers to classify skill." Muttering violent things under his breath, Chris followed her to the promise of food, hoping he'd have enough restraint to not shove whatever the little witch gave him down her throat.

A few minutes later, he sat at a table in the casual dining room and wolfing down a large meal while Roxana sat next to him, eating with a bit more restraint.

"So," Chris said between a mouthfuls, "why didn't Adele come today? She usually never refuses a chance to beat me soundly into the ground at cards." Roxana winced, a response he hadn't expected, and slowly, he put his fork down and studied her. "Roxana, why didn't Adele come?" His voice was very soft, very controlled; Roxana bit her lip and looked away.

"She's…well, she's with Adam," she said in a voice so soft he could barely hear her. Sweet rage swept him up in a tidal wave of red, caressed him as he rose slowly to the killing edge.

"I see," the Warlord Prince said in a calm voice that was anything but. "And why is she with him instead of us?"

Roxana squirmed in her seat. "They are courting, Chris. She wanted to have exclusive time with him so they could get to know each other, so she can decide if she wants him. It's the way it works with Warlord Princes."

He stood abruptly, making Roxana jump. "I know how courting works with Warlord Princes, Lady." His words were biting, and she winced, then looked away. Somewhere deep inside him, along with his rational mind, he regretted causing her pain, but now wasn't the time for apologies. "It seems I have a few things to talk about with the Lady." Like how she was spending all her time with a new "friend" and dumped her old ones into the river. Even if she was courting him, it didn't mean she had to spend every waking moment with the bastard. Oh yes, his Lady would understand when he was through with her.

"Chris-"

He cut her off with a harsh movement of his hand.

"I'll see you later, Roxana. Sorry."

He didn't say anything as he walked briskly out of the kitchen and towards the front door, striding with predatory grace to catch the Green Wind and head for the Ashlyn Manor.


Chris burst through Adele's bedroom door furiously then stopped, bracing his feet apart in a fighting stance and balling his fists, his eyes focused on her as she looked up from a Craft book she had been reading. Those blue eyes pinned him to the spot: he was facing his Queen, not Adele. She wasn't officially his Queen, because she wasn't of age and could not form a court yet, but he knew in his heart that he would always serve her and no one else.

"Adele." Chris' voice was rough with rage and pain as he looked at her.

"Chris," she responded flatly, putting her book down.

He paused now, at a loss of exactly how to phrase what he wanted to say. You came here; grow some balls and do what you came here to do. In the end, he just threw it out into the open. "What's wrong with us? Why are you abandoning your friends to spend time with..." he asked bitterly, pain he refused to show welling up behind his defenses, causing him to lash out furiously.

"With Adam," she said slowly, her temper rising. "The last time I checked, Prince, it was not illegal for a girl to date a boy."

For a brief moment of blinding fury, Chris seriously considered catching the Green Wind and hurling himself into a battle with Adam that would most likely cost them both their lives. It was almost appealing. Instead of dwelling, however, he tossed the first words that came to him at her.

"Unless you are throwing your friends away!"

She winced. "I...never knew you felt that way." Her quiet, hurt tone stopped him, and he was no longer sure exactly what they were talking about. Her eyes were pained as she looked at him, a hand braced against the desk for support. She was wearing nothing but a long nightgown, which made her look pale and thin. Mother Night she looks so fragile, he thought as she turned to face him, just a normal young woman again. The shock of seeing her so vulnerable pushed him away from the killing edge, and though her eyebrows furrowed stubbornly, her voice was still tired.

"You never indicated that you were interested in me in any way other than as a friend, and I have never thought of you as more than that." Adele paused. "No, that's not true. I think of you as a big brother."

Her words sliced at Chris, making him wince; he and Adele and Roxana had been friends since they were little, and he had never felt anything different for Adele until he had turned ten. Then he had started to look at her differently, noticing how nice she smelled and how pretty she was becoming; as he got older, that interest bloomed into love as he had watched her grow up. Chris had always been there for her when she needed him, giving support and assurance, comfort and protection, or a shoulder to cry on. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her, and that included leaving and not getting in her way.

He could never be more than a friend to her now, had waited too long and never been bold enough to share his feelings, and now it was too late. Still, he couldn't blame her—he had always acted as a protector and a friend, had always been afraid that trying to initiate a different kind of relationship with her would ruin what he, Roxana, and Adele shared together.

He couldn't stay because he couldn't cause her the pain of tearing herself between him and another male; it wasn't fair to her. All he cared about was her happiness, even if it cost him his own. He fought a quick, nasty battle with himself before taking a deep breath and speaking.

"I understand. I'm not going to make you choose, Adele. I know you'll make the right decision about him if he's right for you. I won't get in your way." He choked on the words, and she was in front of him in an instant, wrapping her arms around him.

"Chris, how did I ever deserve a friend like you?" she asked softly as he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to stop the tears. He held her tighter, savoring her scent, the warmth and feel of her for just another moment as he made a silent decision.

"I also came here to tell you that I'm going to be leaving for my training tomorrow. I came to say goodbye." It was a horrible lie, and they both knew it. Adele pulled back to look at him with horrified eyes dusted with tears.

"I thought you didn't have to go for another month."

He gave her a watery smile as he brushed her hair aside gently. "Lord Eric moved up the date. Who am I to argue with him? The Veranthis Mountains are tough to live in; maybe he wants me to be better prepared before the winter season arrives." In reality, Lord Eric, Master of the Guard for Lady Marrisan, a Province Queen in Northern Tirrador, hadn't moved up the date. Chris would leave tomorrow and beg Lord Eric to take him in early—he would do anything that was required, but he didn't want stay here another day to be in Adele's way.

He wouldn't be a constant reminder that she was hurting him while she tried to be happy with Adam. No, there was nothing worse he could to do her. He was going to start his formal court training, become a Guard for Lady Maris, and hone his skills as a warrior and Warlord Prince. Chris had been both looking forward to the training, eager to perfect his already sharp abilities, and dreading leaving the ladies in his life, but now he knew he would throw himself into his training with vigorous enthusiasm to cover the heartache.

Adele had already come to her own decision as she stared at him with a fathomless expression. "I see," she said, and he knew she really could see through him.

He was choosing not to cause a rift of hate between the males so deep Adele would have to choose one over the other. He needed to lick his wounds, to not be reminded of his pain while it lived so close to him. Then her face changed back, her eyes became glassy, and she buried her face in his chest. He could feel his shirt getting wet.

"I'll miss you, Chris."

He held her tighter to him. "I'll miss you too, Adele." Then he pulled her away gently and lifted her chin with his forefinger so he could look into those beautiful, teary blue eyes. "Don't cry, witchling, we'll see each other again—I'm not leaving for good." He grinned arrogantly now. "There's no way you're getting rid of me that easily." She gave him a watery smile and nodded.

"Bye, Christopher," she said, hugging him tightly before stepping back.

"Bye, Adele." He grinned at her and stepped way, then turned and walked slowly out of the house, caught the Winds, and with a heavy heart rode them home to prepare for his first day of court service.

6/Delacova

Violent, warring emotions swirling up and rising from the abyss awoke Jeremy Deveraux. He must have been tossing in his sleep for some time, because he woke up sweaty and tangled in his sheets. When he looked around and saw no physical disturbance in the still autumn night, he concentrated and descended into the abyss.

The pain was staggering.

He gasped aloud from the mental grief that ripped through the area at the level of the Purple Dusk, and started pulling out of the abyss.

*She's gone.*

The agony in that familiar voice stopped him, then sent him diving back into that psychic minefield.

*Chris?* No answer. *Chris, where are you?!* Panic rose in him. Who was gone? What was his brother talking about? Did he need help? Jeremy pulled the covers off and staggered out of bed. He couldn't be too far to be causing this much commotion in the abyss and to not be raising an alarm. Probably on their property somewhere.

*Chris, answer me, damn you!* he sent desperately. Nothing. He was probably too wrapped up in whatever pain he was riding at the moment to hear him. Gritting his teeth against the psychic discomfort, Jeremy headed straight into the storm.

Chris was in the forest, where Jeremy finally found him minutes later. He was a mess, hair tangled, eyes swollen with tears…and completely shut off from the physical world.

"Chris..." He swallowed and stumbled to sit next to his brother, wrapping his arms around him in an embrace.

Chris took a shuddering breath and looked at Jeremy with wild eyes. "Jeremy...I...I let her go."

Jeremy's heart beat wildly. Why did he keep saying that? Had something happened to Adele? She was the only person who could provoke this kind of reaction from his brother.

"What happened, Chris?"

"I let her go I—I'm going to leave tomorrow."

Jeremy rocked back a little, absorbing the weight of those words and what it had cost his brother. Chris was in love with Adele; Jeremy had known it for years. The others hadn't been able to see it, but her new relationship with the other Warlord Price was destroying his brother from the inside. But now...

"You're sure?" he asked gently. "Chris, you love her. Why-"

"Because she sees me like a brother!"

Jeremy was stunned into silence.

"Oh God, I let her go!" The words were almost a keen, and Chris instantly withered again, sobbing.

Shocked, Jeremy said nothing—what else could he say? He just held on tightly while his heart bled for his older brother and hoped the next morning would bring something kinder.


Thank you for reading, Chapter 4 will probably be up in the next few weeks, followed closely by Chapter 5. Please review!