It was the sort of intelligence Tania had been hoping for and was actionable enough that Petur could take steps to prevent leaks about their schedules. He made his family unpredictable and hoped that would be enough to soothe the fire in his sister’s soul.
While she hadn’t outright forbidden Deyvid’s return, Petur couldn’t let his guard down. He didn’t trust that Tania wouldn’t still try to find some pretense to keep them apart after this, just to spite them. Three months …
“Why aren’t you married to him, Uncle Petur?”
Petur eyed his niece, who looked up at him innocently. “I’m sure you know this tale.”
“I don’t quite remember,” she said, then had the audacity to bat her eyelashes at him.
How dare you.“I’ll tell you,” he said, “if you shift into a kitten for the explanation.”
Givencie sighed but gave in readily enough. She frowned with fierce focus as she stared at her hands. She always began with the paws, whereas Petur’s transformations tended to go from the head down. Ten seconds in, and she had tabby fur and claws. Thirty seconds in, and she was a kitten approximately the size of both his palms put together, sitting up on her hind legs and holding her forepaws up with a pathetic “mew.”
“Very good,” Petur told her and patted his lap. She jumped up, turned in a circle, and settled in with a purr as he used one finger to stroke her head. “I’m not married to Deyvid because your mother wants me to be available for a political marriage,”Petur said softly as he looked down at his furry niece. “I know you know all about political marriages. They’re a way to ensure peace or stop war, a way to guarantee alliances and empower an entire kingdom.
“Many times, they work as intended—better, even. Your parents were a political marriage, and they love each other very much.” Why, Petur still wasn’t entirely sure, unless Jemal was far less passive in the bedroom than he was in the court. “Arven’s marriage to Kira will be primarily political although they also like each other a great deal. Deyvid, however, wouldn’t be a good political marriage for me because he’s a former Harrier, and their politics are very different from ours. Their clans are matriarchal, for starters, so his status as a son would carry less weight.”Not to mention, his father is a murderous bastard.“Plus, he hasn’t lived with them for a long time now.”
Givencie began to make biscuits in a rather pleased way. “I concur, his time with us has been to our advantage,” Petur said. “But your mother would like me to be useful in another way.” She made a fierce, mrowing sound. “I know. I’ve said I’m not interested in a political marriage, but I can’t entirely take that leverage off the table. Otherwise, your mother might start looking at marryingyouoff, and—”
Givencie tumbled off his lap onto the floor and shifted back into her human form faster than Petur had ever seen before. “I don’t ever want to get married!” she exclaimed, almost shouting. “I want to stay here with Delainie!”
Uh-oh.“It will be years before your mother even starts to consider potential marriages for you,” Petur assured her. “You’ll have plenty of time to be with your sister. You’ll probably seehermarried well before you ever are.”
“No!” Furious tears rose in Givencie’s eyes. “You don’t understand! I can’t leave her here alone!”
“What don’t I understand?” he asked quietly.
His littlest niece hesitated for a long time before she finally said, “You don’t know what they say about her. The courtiers, their awful nasty brats, all the people who can shift. They say she’s broken and stupid and not worthy, and that she shouldn’t be heir because she can’t do our magic, and Mama hears it but ignores it, and Papa tells her not to listen, and Arven would fight people who said it about her, but now he’s gone, and it’s getting worse. SoIhave to fight for her!” Givencie wiped her running nose. “And I will! I’ll fight every one of those stupid whores, and I’ll—”
“Language,” Petur murmured by rote, a bit stunned he hadn’t been drawn into this drama before. “Why wasn’t I told about any of this?”
Givencie rolled her eyes. “Who would dare say anything like that aroundyou? You’re the best shifter in the kingdom.”
That was true, but … Potential ramifications were running through Petur’s mind almost too fast to appreciate. His niece watched him warily, clearly afraid of being scolded but not willing to be deterred in her firm defense of her sister. Petur couldn’t fault her for that. Hewouldn’t. After all, the person he loved most in the world was also unable to shift.
“What you need,” he said at last, “is to master a shift that will command immediate respect if you really mean to dedicate yourself to this.”And you need to become utterly unmarriageable, but that can wait for a bit.“A cat is a pretty and talented creature, but it won’t inspire the same sort of fear that a wolf would.”
“I don’t like dogs,” Givencie sighed. “But if I have to, then …”
“You misunderstand me.” Petur smiled at her. “We’re not going to try to teach you a wolf shift, or a mountain lion, or an aurochs. We’re going to work on your battle form instead.”
Her eyes went wide. “I thought those were so hard to do!”
“They are,” he said. “They’re the most challenging shift out there because each one is unique. Mine is a combination of all my shifts, and I have to understand every aspect of each of them in order to make my battle form viable. It also wouldn’t matter how impressive my form seemed if I didn’t know how to fight in it, so if you want to be a true partner and protector to your sister, you’ll have to work twice as hard at your weapons and sparring.” He looked at her searchingly. “Is that something you can do?”
He personally wasn’t sure if Givencie could, but now was the time to start if that was what she wanted. He’d begun to work on his battle form as quickly as possible, incorporating changes into it over time so that it evolved with him. He’d never thought Givencie would be a good candidate for that kind of training, but …
“I can do it,” she said, and Petur grinned at the ferocity in her voice.
“Good. Then let’s get started. Shift twice more in the next five minutes.”
He didn’t get back to his rooms until late that night. Training Givencie was the most pleasurable stretch of that time; the rest was spent reviewing with the leaders of his patrols, arranging the court schedule for the week pending Tania’s approval, and sending several of his most covert shifters out to spy on the houses of those families who had children who attended the court. If Delainie was being bullied, he was going to have a hand in getting that under control.
He wouldn’t stop it completely—Givencie needed the motivation—but he also wouldn’t let his niece be damaged by a group of ignorant little shits who didn’t know how godsdamn lucky they were that their queen was more concerned about propriety than—
The scent of sweat, horse, and most of all Deyvid flooded his nostrils the second he went through the door. Every sensesharpened, and even though the room was dark, Petur was drawn inexorably to his lover, sitting in a chair in the dark with one boot on, one off. He stank of fatigue, and Petur found himself growling even as he stalked over and knelt down to jerk Deyvid into his embrace.
“Petur.” Deyvid’s arms came around his neck, holding him close—not as tight as he wanted, but then it could never be tight enough as far as Petur was concerned. “Sweetheart.”
