Page 87 of Somber Prince

“No, not in the way that binds through blood. But Kanjie has been with my family for centuries. When I left Kalmena, she came with me to Teneris and has been here ever since.”

“How old is she? She doesn’t look like any of you.”

“No one knows a hag’s age. They always look like they’re nearing death. But in their case, it’s often only an illusion. A hag gives up her youthful looks in exchange for magic that is stronger than even the queen’s.”

“Yet the hags are the ones who serve the royals, by the looks of it.”

He nodded. “Hags don’t care about ruling over people. They don’t need riches, love, or a family. What they crave is respect, and they get most of it when serving powerful people.”

“So, she’s like a healer at your court?”

“Mostly, yes. But Kanjie also lends her magic to priests and Joy Guardians whenever needed for the good of Teneris.”

Servants brought in our lunch, as well as armfuls of scrolls and papers for Rha to go through, and a wide flat box that they put on a side stand. Rha ate his boring snake meat quickly, then got busy poring over the long scrolls and stacks of papers.

I devoured the yummy rice pudding with raisins that the head chef created to my order, then drank some more of the hag’s tea.

“How are you feeling?” Rha asked, lifting his head from the paper he was reading.

He sat on a thick floor cushion by a low round table that was littered with scrolls. Though “littered” was the wrong word to describe anything where Rha was concerned. There was always a system in anything he did. The scrolls on the table in front of him were grouped into neat piles. The papers were also arranged in stacks and lined up in some order only he could understand.

I leaned to the side to deposit my empty mug onto the stand.

“I’m feeling much better. Thank you. The royal hag knows her stuff. The tea is working already.” I spotted the flat box that the servants had brought in with our lunch. “What’s in this box?”

“Oh, that…” Rha put down his paper and got up. “It’s from my jewelers. I asked them for specific gemstones.”

With his usual feline grace, he strolled to the side table and picked up the box, then placed it on my lap.

“What do you think?”

I ran my fingers over the collection of blue and brown gemstones laid over the black velvet. Smoothly polished or cut with facets, they shimmered and sparkled in the dim light under the canopy over the bed.

“These are gorgeous.”

“Hm.” He took his chin in his hand. “Maybe you can help me put them into a design for a necklace.”

“Who is the necklace for?”

“You.”

“Me? You want the jewelers to make me a necklace with these?”

“Yes. You said you like these stones.”

“I do…” I stroked the precious rocks. “They are beautiful. Too beautiful. And there are so many of them. How big is that necklace going to be?”

“I may not end up using all of them, only those that will fit into a pattern. But it should be a good size when it’s finished. Not too heavy to weigh on your delicate neck and shoulders, but big enough to make a statement.”

That intrigued me.

“What kind of statement are you going for?”

“I want the world to know what you mean to me and how much I treasure you,” he replied without a moment of hesitation.

I tried to ignore a flutter in my chest somewhere in the area of the heart. “And how are you planning to express that in gems?”

He climbed on the bed next to me and raked his fingers through the stones in the tray.

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