voice. With two attentive lovers,
Fleur would never know the
coldness of isolation or lack the
warmth of human contact.
Adonia’s eyes shifted enviously to
the ice-bear pelts wrapping Prince
DeHelios and she sighed inwardly.
I could put those heavy furs to
good use. Drawn by some
inexorable attraction, her eyes
tracked upward and the same
hyper-awareness as in the audience
hall sparked through her as she met
his gaze. By the Goddess! The man
winked at me. She hurried to stay
even with Fleur.
“I had a high compliment about
you, today,” Fleur teased, craning
her neck to meet Adonia’s gaze.
“Oh?”
“Yes, from the Senior Medicus of
the High Enclave.”
Yes, but if not for my common
blood, I could do so much more.
Adonia dropped her gaze to the
floor and shrugged. “Thank you,
Ma’am. I do what I can.”
She counted everyday spent with
the medicae of the High Enclave a
blessing. Her skill with the healing
arts had increased tenfold as she
gorged her mind on the practical
knowledge in the High Enclave’s
great library.
Practical knowledge did nothing to
assuage her obsessive fascination
with the magickal rites—the sexual
rites the highborn with their prized
genetics used to energize diaman