Shrewd woman. She was right. I would do whatever I could to keep them safe. Hard to believe, as I gazed at the stout, dark-haired cook who was as tall as an Amazon, that Rosemary had given birth to Jamie, reed thin and slender tall, and tiny petite Tersa, whose bones seemed as light and as delicate as a dove's. Made one wonder—or not want to wonder—who their human father had been. Redheaded for sure and slight of build. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. The odd, mismatched mating was not something I even wanted to try imagining.

In the third row sat Tomas and Aquila. With soft brown eyes, wheat-colored hair, and a Southern accent that flowed warm and thick as molasses, Tomas was as straight and true and loyal as the sword he had sworn to my service. Aquila, on the other hand, was an ex-outlaw rogue, one of those who had kidnapped me, in fact. You'd never have guessed it to look upon his very proper and precise person. He was not much taller than my five feet eight. The hair of his neatly trimmed Vandyke beard was crisply straight in contrast to his brown wavy hair. He was older, like Amber. Over a hundred years was my guess. The only one in our little group besides me who knew how to drive… in a jerky "at least half-a-century since he'd gotten behind a wheel" manner of fashion. Aquila's knowledge and grasp of commerce and business was a nice boon for us all, although perhaps not so surprising considering the orderliness of his nature.

Behind them sat Chami, the last and least wanted of my warrior guards. The most dangerous. I had taken him because Mona Teresa, a nasty jealous rival Queen, would have taken him had I not. I'd taken him because he had humbled himself and begged me with his deep violet eyes not to let her have him.

Chami had curly brown hair like Aquila, but with a whipcord lean, greyhound slenderness to his build.