In Which Dea Does by the Laws

September 5, 1188

"Oh, no. Don't you pat my head and tell me to go practice my embroidery." Dea had stormed into her father's study and slammed the door--not a thing many kings were used to. She would have been scolded for being so unladylike had she not caught him off-guard. "Why do Kaldar and Ella get nothing from you? I get that you think you do enough for us by keeping us fed and clothed and sheltered, but you're responsible for their existence too. You can't just sweep them under the rug!"

"Not that it is any of your business," her father sneered as he regained some semblance of composure, "but their mother is an irrational shrew who would not let me see them unless she too was around, and I don't care to subject myself to that woman more than I already have."

"You should have thought of that before you slept with her, then!"

"Medea!" Outside of an official capacity, her father was the only one who called her by her full name. She hadn't been very old when she'd figured out why. "A young princess shouldn't know of such things!"

"I'm fifteen, in case you've lost track of time. Aunt Leara and Aunt Camaline were both married at my age!" She feared for a second she might have planted an idea in his head, but there was no need. Her father wouldn't marry her or Gennie off until he found two indisputable highest bidders. "And at least Lady Ellona cares about her children, which is more than anyone can say about you!"

"Medea--!"

"Name Kaldar Lord Ravenhold."

His angry snarling and his startled blinking were an unsuited mix of expressions. "What?"

"The new territory to the west. People are already living there, in case you haven't noticed. They need a lord, and that lord is going to be Kaldar."

"That territory is a part of your dowry!"

"Then by the laws of our forefathers, it is mine to do as I please with before I am betrothed. So unless you've sold my hand behind my back, Kaldar will be Lord Ravenhold whether you like it or not." As if she'd have use for that land in her dowry anyway. Her father would never marry her off to someone who didn't already have his own land, and he couldn't pretend he cared to keep her close. "And while we're on the subject, you are to match Sir Casimiro penny for penny with Ella's dowry, and then to double the gross sum. And if you have any children with your new mistress, you'll take suitable care of them too."

"Medea--"

"You will! Or I'll have to take care of them for you--and you may not like everything I have to tell them."

Her father's hands balled into fists. Furious as he was with her, and furious as she'd be at the thought, what he said next would be the closest thing she ever got to an expression of affection from him.

"A pity you weren't a boy."

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