Dorian knew something was wrong the moment Orian stormed into the eyrie. Her daughter was even-tempered usually, a blessing when a witch had three Eyrien sons, but when something sparked her temper, well, she was a Queen, and a Queen naturally had a hot temper. Orian stomped into the eyrie, kicked her brother when he made a teasing comment, yelled at one of the wolves, and slammed her bedroom door shut. Dorian waited ten minutes, and then knocked on the door.

The door flew open, Orian's eyes spitting lightning at whoever was there. It wasn't a brother, so she couldn't slam the door shut again, with another kick for good measure. Dorian entered the room, and closed the door behind her. A second later, Darkguide, a young Arcerian Healer passed through the door. There wasn't a lot of room with the 300 pound cat and two winged females, but nobody was offering to leave.

*Bad wolf? Do I need to bite him?*

"No biting," Dorian said firmly. She had known there would be problems with the cat moving into an eyrie that had been dominated by wolves, but when the cat was a Birthright Opal wearing Arcerian who had decided that the household's young Queen was "hers" after a visit to a Witch, then accommodations needed to be made.

Dorian looked at her daughter. The girl was in her closet, and had pulled out most of her good dresses and thrown them on the bed. "Did someone say something about your wardrobe?" she asked hesitantly. A young Eyrien, on the edge of maturity, was a bundle of hormonal temper at the best of times and simply impossible the rest of the time.

"No," Orian said, and then threw herself on her bed. "I got invited to a Winsol party," she snapped.

Dorian blinked. "Sweetheart, if you want a new dress…"

"This isn't about a dress!" Orian cried out. "Stupid Daemonar had to act like Lorivar was trying to kill me, and now Lorivar probably is trying to get out of inviting me because he doesn't want Prince Yaslana mad at him, and I want to go, and Lorivar was very nice when we met, and was being so polite and charming, even though Daemonar was behaving like a sewer-rat, and Daemonar keeps teasing me about being in my Court, and we all know that won't happen, and I'm tired of people acting like I wouldn't have any offers at all if it wasn't for being friends with Tersa and Daemonar, and every time he says he's going to be in my Court that's what people think even more, but he won't listen to ANYTHING!" She harrumphed. "Stupid Daemonar."

Dorian was glad that she was the oldest of four sisters, or she would never have been able to understand a word of that speech.

*Bite Daemonar?*

"Yes!" Orian snapped, at the same moment as her mother yelled "NO!"

Dorian looked at the cat and then her daughter. "No wonder you two get along," she said. "Both of you want to bite first, and think later." Darkguide let out a little growl, but would never risk biting the little Queen's dam. Dorian turned her attention back to her daughter.

"Let's start over, and tell me what happened from the time you left Riada, all happy about doing Winsol shopping, to coming in here in such a mood."

Orian sighed, and told her mother what had happened on the way home. "I don't know why he was so upset over one party," she said at the end, honestly confused. "He hates aristo parties. It's not like I'm going to refuse to go to the one at The Tavern, or the cookie party Lady Marian is planning, just because I want to go to one aristo party. He's just using Lorivar as an excuse, because Daemonar was there when Papa mentioned him when we were talking about my trip to Scelt."

Dorian smiled. Her daughter was almost grown, almost ready to take on the duties of a Queen, but there were some things she didn't quite see. Like why a young man would be intimidated by the arrival of an older, handsome, sophisticated man like Prince Lorivar Dastol. "Maybe it's not going to a party, but going to a party with another man that upset Daemonar," she suggested gently.

Orian blew out an annoyed breath. "I've been to lots of parties with lots of boys."

Dorian had a smile, knowing smile. "Exactly. This is the first time a man has asked to be your escort for the evening. Sometimes, men tend to think of women one way, and it can be the littlest thing that suddenly makes them see the Lady differently."

Orian thought that over for a moment and then shook her head. "Daemonar doesn't think of me like that. If he did…well, I'd know, right?"

Dorian almost laughed. No, she wouldn't. Who likes who had been part of the male/female struggle since the beginning of time, and she doubted anyone would ever come up with a solution. "Like I said, sweetheart, sometimes things change. You need to think about it, and decide if things did change, could they change on both sides?"

"I'm still going to the party with Lorivar," Orian said, almost defiantly.

"As you should," Dorian agreed tartly. "One party isn't promising the Consort's ring. And if Daemonar starts behaving like a gentleman, maybe you'll allow him to escort you to one of the other dozen parties this season."

"Stupid Daemonar," Orian grumped. "Maybe I won't go with him even if does ask."

Dorian looked at her seriously. "If he decides that he wants to court you, then you need to decide right away if you will allow it," she said. "Daemonar has always been a sweet young man, but under that fun-loving exterior is a Warlord Prince and a Warlord Prince will always revert back to their nature. Its part of what they are, and they can't help it any more than the seasons can help from changing."

Orian understood the seriousness of her mother's words. A Warlord Prince was violently passionate, and focused with a single-minded deadliness on his Lady. Many men had died from inadvertently coming in between a Warlord Prince and the woman he was focused on. That's why Protocol was so strict in this area. Daemonar had been taught Protocol by the High Lord himself, and would yield to Orian's wishes about courting. If Daemonar said that he wanted to stake a claim, she would have to allow him to court her exclusively until she accepted him or asked him to step aside. If she didn't want him to court her at all, she would have to tell him immediately, and firmly. If not, a lot of people could be hurt or killed.

"We've been friends since we were in diapers," Orian said. "I'm a friend, that's all."

"But if he gives any indication at all that he's staking a claim…"

"I'll follow Protocol to the letter," Orian promised.

Dorian was relieved. Life was good in Kaeleer, and so many of the terrors they had faced in Terreille had faded over the years, but a Warlord Prince in a rage could happen anywhere. Bad things, horrifying things could happen when a Warlord Prince went cold. She had been courted by a Warlord Prince once, but after watching him tear another man limb from limb in a rage because he discovered her mother was only half-Eyrien, she had broken off the relationship and run away to another village, refusing to socialize with any male above a Warlord. Luckily she had met Endar, and their marriage had been a happy, loving one, blessed with three beautiful children. But Dorian never forgot the lessons of her youth, and although she had been happy her daughter had such a good friend in Daemonar, she had always held a note of concern over what would happen when his primal nature began to surface.

"Now, shall we discuss a dress for the party?" Dorian asked, wanting to cheer her daughter. "I think you're definitely going to need something special."

Orian smiled. "I think you read my mind."