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A small cry escaped Sorcha’s lips, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Gruffly, Carys clarified. “She speaks truth, my queen. If you bind her with your blood, she will prove to be trustworthy.”

Sorcha squeezed her eyes shut and bowed over her hands. “I will be trustworthy. I will swear on your blood, Your Majesty. Whatever you wish.”

Gina handed her the parchment for her to read, the same as the others. One of her Blood helped Sorcha stand so she could kneel closer to me. Eyes wide, she stared at me as Daire made the cut on her throat. Her lips trembled, making her mumble the oath.

I started to lean closer, and she squeaked out a terrified sound that made me feel like shit. Though I couldn’t blame her after I just drained Kimora to death. “I’ll try to be gentle.”

Though to Rik, I sent a plea. :Don’t let me drain her dry.:

:I’ve got you, my queen.:

I closed my mouth over the cut, trying to ignore the anxiety radiating off her. Her trembling. Her tears. I didn’t like upsetting—mentally torturing—people. At all. Especially if they were innocent. But until I tasted each of them…

I tasted truth in Sorcha’s blood like the sweetness of summer sun sparkling on gentle waters. Clear blue skies. Wildflowers blooming in the field. I drank deeply enough to leave an impression, not just on her but all the other queens watching, and then I lifted my head. “How do you prefer to receive my blood?”

She gaped at me a moment, shocked by having a choice. Fair, I supposed, especially after my demonstration thus far. “However you wish, Your Majesty.”

I pierced my palm and offered my hand to her. Hesitant, she cupped my hand beneath both of hers, watching me warily as she lifted my blood to her mouth. Her eyelids fluttered shut as she tasted me. She was pretty in a fragile, delicate sort of way with a willowy figure and a wispy, flowy dress of chiffon and lace. Skin so pale I could see the delicate blood vessels just beneath the surface. She wore her brown hair in a loose, messy bun that felt incomplete.

She swallowed several times, her eyes tightening in concentration. Or force, I suspected, trying to take as much of my blood as possible.

But I’m not easy to swallow, I thought grimly. I pushed down the fledgling bond, taking up firm and solid residence in her thoughts.

Relief that she wasn’t dead. Shock and horror. Stunned. By the pump of power in my blood. My blood sparked in her, spreading wildfire, lighting up her nerves. With a gasp, she fell back on her butt, her head reeling as if she just stepped off a wheel-go-round. But she managed a shaky, genuine smile at me, and I saw what was missing in her hair. “Woah.”

My lips quirked. “You should wear a crown of wildflowers. With ribbons that hang down your back.”

Her cheeks colored delicate pink. “I will, next time I come to court.” Then her eyes flared wide, her blush darkening to burnt red. “I mean, if I’m invited, Your Majesty. I don’t mean to be presumptuous. I do love flowers, very much, but I felt silly dressed up like a schoolgirl with flowers in my hair this morning.”

“Carys, what’s the probability that Sorcha can successfully hold Paris in my stead when I’m away from the city?”

“Fifty percent.”

Surprised it was so low, I nodded. “Interesting. Thank you, Sorcha. You may join us here on the dais or return to the floor, whichever you prefer.”

“I will stand with you, Your Majesty, of course.” With her Blood’s help, she stood and stepped back up onto the dais, moving closer to stand beside Leonie. The rest of Sorcha’s Blood lined up to the side with Jenrade.

“Nicoletta D’Aubert, Daughter of Artemis,” Harvey called.

Someone screamed. People shifted away from the source, finally letting me see what was happening. A Blood held his queen in his arms. She leaned back over his arm, staring up at him as her blood poured from a wound at her throat. With one last smile at him, she sagged, her arms falling limply. Cradling her against him, he fell to his knees and lifted his bloody knife to his own throat. “House D’Aubert swears to no one!”

Several other Blood shoved away through the crowd. As if they thought they could hide among the others, even carrying their queen’s blood.

Ini looked up at me, her ears twitching. I nodded and she immediately gave chase, prowling through the crowd to find her targets, while her sister cleaned up the dead queen and her alpha.

“Lisa Adrienne, Daughter of Arduinna,” Harvey called out.

She came forward with twelve Blood, glaring at me through her tears. “I claim formal challenge in hand-to-hand combat for the right to leave.”

I looked to Gina for guidance.

“It’s archaic but there is precedence,” Gina admitted. “When a formal challenge is declared before a Triune queen, each queen selects a champion to fight in hand-to-hand combat to the death. Then the winning champion will execute the other queen and her entire house.”

I couldn’t comprehend how little Lisa must care for her own Blood to volunteer any of them as her champion when I had Sir Guillaume de Payne at my disposal.

“I ask only that you allow my alpha to pick his target from among your Blood,” Lisa said.