Dragon Prince 01 - Dragon Prince (14 page)

She tried to smile, to make amends. “Come, we’re all tired, and I didn’t mean to be so sharp with you. Urival, tell us more about Stronghold, please?”

His eyes were an unusual shade of golden brown, huge and beautiful below thick brows in a thin, angular face. She had never been able to hide anything successfully from those eyes before, and the expression in them now made her nervous. But he chose to oblige her with a recital of the rooms and wonders of the keep. They reached the second floor, turned down several long hallways, and entered what Urival described as the north wing. Windows were open along the gallery from floor to ceiling, and a riot of scents from the garden below filled the sun-heated corridor.

“This is all Princess Milar’s doing,” Urival explained. “The gardens used to be nothing but bare rock and sand. She planned the gardens, laid out the walks, and put that little stream in. There’s even a fountain on the family’s side of the building.”

Sioned looked down at the neat flowerbeds and trees through which a stream and paths of silvery gravel wove like threads in a tapestry. Stone benches were set here and there, and little arched bridges painted blue and white spanned the thin trickle of water. Water was the most precious of elements here in the Desert. It was real wealth to have enough for the pleasant folly of a stream and fountain. Folly? Where she had grown up, they worried about floods. It occurred to her that she was already beginning to think like one born to this land, and was troubled anew by Rohan’s influence over her.

“It’s beautiful,” Camigwen said. “Like a giant’s hand with a little garden in its hollow. But what do they do when they want to see the sky?”

“Oh, it’s not like Goddess Keep, where we’re fogbound so much of the winter,” Urival said. “If there was nothing but an open sky between you and the sea and barely a tall rock in all the Long Sand, you’d feel very secure in these cliffs.” He raked back his graying dark hair and smiled wryly. “Hurry along, children. Your baths are getting warm.”

“Warm?” Ostvel asked blankly.

“Only a fool would take a hot bath in an oven like this.” Sioned was left alone in a chamber off her main room that, though small, was entirely adequate to her needs. The bath was ready, but for a time she was more interested in the tiny room that contained the tub. Cheerful blue and green tiles lined the floor, repeating the colors of the bedchamber. A large iron tub painted white rested in a carved wooden frame. Sink, shelving, towel racks—even the privy—were as dainty and elegant as the roses in a ceramic vase from Kierst beside the tub. Evidently Princess Milar had strong ideas about private comforts as well as public ones.

If this was the sort of room given an unimportant guest like herself, what must the rest of the keep be like? Sioned undressed and sank into the cool water, deciding Urival must have commanded one of the grander rooms for her. Luxuriating in the bath that soaked her tired body clean, she was glad he’d taken the trouble. But was she truly to become lady of this strange place?

She washed her hair and watched the strands float on the water, remembering something she knew and Rohan did not. From her would come his crown, the Fire of Sioned herself becoming the golden circlet across his brow. Yet it was he who would make
her
royal when he made her his wife. She recalled the dirty, exhausted young man she had met that afternoon, his quiet voice and his ability to ignite her senses, his mysterious plan that she had agreed to without thinking twice. He intended to use her, she thought suddenly. What kind of man used people so easily?

The answer came from a ruthlessly practical portion of her mind, the part untouched by Fire. He was a prince. She would be marrying power and lands and ambitions, not just a man. If he truly intended to marry her at all.

She rose from her bath and pulled the plug, noting how swiftly the water was sucked down—probably to flush out the middens, she thought, approving of the efficiency and cleanliness. During her childhood at River Run they had removed to a nearby manor for a time every summer so the filth could be cleaned from the garderobes. Again she realized how much water must be here, to waste it in keeping not just bodies but the castle clean.

After toweling dry, she went to the bedroom and dressed in the things left for her. The gown was a good fit, despite Cami’s apprehensions, and by far the prettiest thing she had ever worn. Sioned brushed and braided her hair, then draped a thin veil of silvery gray silk over her head, securing the material with a few plain pins. There was a full-length mirror set into one tiled wall, and as she considered herself in it she smiled. Rohan had seen the worst of her, but would never do so again if she could help it.

Sunset approached, but no knock sounded at her door. Sioned toyed with the idea of investigating the keep on her own, but chose to stay within her room and enjoy its comforts. River Run had been a pleasant enough place, and Goddess Keep was in some chambers the epitome of elegant living. But the rooms given those who lived there were not half so large or lovely as the one Sioned was in now, and she explored it with interest. The bed was big enough for four people, decorated with a pile of plump pillows covered in blue and green silk. The hangings were not the thick wool from Gilad or Cunaxa usual in colder climates, but sewn of silk fine enough to see through and embroidered with tiny white flowers. The object was, of course, to keep insects out, not to keep warmth in. The floors were polished hardwood and bare but for a few rugs scattered casually around, and Sioned realized that never again would she wake in the morning and put her feet to a frozen stone floor. The same tiles used in the bathroom framed the mirror, the windows, and the doorways. The rest was white plaster over smoothed stone.

The outer door opened and Sioned jumped. But it was Camigwen, not Andrade, who looked around and nodded her satisfaction. “I knew it! This
is
grander than mine or Ostvel’s. I was sure Urival would give you something befitting your coming rank.”

Sioned let the reference pass. “It’s lovely, isn’t it? What’s yours like?”

“More or less the same, only not so large and with less furniture. And I have to share a bathroom. Now, when you meet Princess Milar, be sure to get her to offer you some silk for new gowns. She’ll probably mention it herself, but in case she doesn’t—”

“Cami, I won’t go begging—”

“You idiot, you’re going to
own
all this soon, and don’t start denying it again, either! I saw your eyes—and his!”

“You didn’t see anything.”

“And you made sure I didn’t hear anything, didn’t you? What went on out there between you?”

“That’s precisely what I’d like to know.” Lady Andrade’s voice from the doorway made both girls jump. “Camigwen, you will excuse us, I’m sure.”

Reluctance in every line of her, Cami left the room and closed the door behind her. Andrade was more stately than ever in the dark gray silk, her bright hair concealed by a matching veil. She looked Sioned over coolly as she sat down in a blue-cushioned chair by the windows.

“What do you think of the face in the Fire now?”

“I’m not sure I understand you, my Lady.” Sioned took the other chair without asking permission to sit in Andrade’s presence.

“My dear child, we both know you have an adequate supply of wits and a more than adequate portion of pride. Let’s have done with the usual and be honest with each other. Will you have him?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s young, rich, reasonably handsome, intelligent, and a prince. What do you find lacking? You told me once that you saw what he was by looking into his eyes.”

“They’re interesting eyes,” Sioned admitted. “But I think they hide a great many things.”

“What in the name of the Goddess did you two say to each other?” Andrade exclaimed.

Sioned discovered a perverse pleasure in frustrating the powerful Lady of Goddess Keep. “We agreed to wait,” she said quite truthfully.

“For how long?”

“He mentioned something about the
Rialla.
”

“What? He won’t have any time for that sort of thing at Waes! Every prince watching, Roelstra ready to—” She burst out laughing. “
Roelstra!
Why, that miserable, cunning son of a dragon!”

Sioned stared, mystified. Her mind worked furiously as she thought of everything she had ever heard about the High Prince. Ruthless, sly, and manipulative—qualities Andrade possessed in abundance—Roelstra was Andrade’s enemy for reasons no one had ever been very clear about. He ruled Princemarch from Castle Crag, meddled in the affairs of most other princedoms—and was possessed of an embarrassment of daughters.

She sucked in a breath between clenched teeth. So
that
was what Rohan was about, was it?

“Good. You understand,” Andrade said, correctly reading Sioned’s grim little smile. “Do you trust him?”

After a brief hesitation, Sioned answered with complete honesty this time. “I’m not sure. When I’m with him, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but him. I’ll trust him if he gives me reason to.”

“Make him take you into his confidence, Sioned. Force his truth if you have to, then show yourself worthy of it—and make him do the same. Suspicion is all very well to whet a lover’s appetite, but it’s fatal between husband and wife.”

“We need to believe in each other,” Sioned murmured. She rose, giving Andrade a look of appeal. “Tell me it will come out all right. Please.”

“Oh, Sioned.” Andrade rose and framed the girl’s face with her fingers. “May you kindle Fire and never be burned by it. May the Air never send storms across your path. May that path across the Earth be a soft one, and the Water of your tears always taste sweet with joy.” Sioned’s eyes filled with tears as she received the ancient blessing, and the Lady smoothed the drops from her cheeks. “Only let him love you, and love him in return.”

Chaynal had swallowed a bellyful of questions all the way back to Stronghold. Rohan had been in no mood for conversation. When Tobin followed him into the bathroom demanding to be told everything, Chay could only shrug.

“If I knew anything, I’d share it. Wash my back?”

She stripped down to her undershift as he got into the tub, and wielded a scrub brush with such energy that he yelped. “Oh, don’t be such a baby. You’re as filthy as the boys after a day with the horses at home, and you smell worse. At least
I
know the girl’s name.”

“Which is?”

“Sioned. She’s going to marry Rohan.”

“Oh, I
never
would have guessed, not from the look on his face!”

“But he didn’t look at her once in the courtyard, and there’s no welcome for her. Chay, he didn’t even introduce her to Mother!” She started soaping his arm. “Tell me about the dragon.”

His brief synopsis was frequently interrupted by her exclamations. Chay finished with, “Don’t tell anybody he got sick afterward. It’s not exactly heroic, and won’t listen well in bardsong.”

She grinned back at him. “We’ll make sure it doesn’t get into the official version. Oh, Chay, how proud Father would have been!”

“It’s the last dragon he’ll ever kill, you know. Even if he hadn’t said as much out there, I saw it in his face.”

“I suspected as much. Turn around, love.”

He obliged, scooting around in the rub to face her. “Anyway, we rode back and damned if the girl didn’t show up like a shimmer-vision in the sand! He took her off for a talk. I couldn’t watch as much as I wanted because the dark girl—Cami-something, the one with the eyes—kept asking questions. I rather liked her young man. Good seat on a horse, and an air of authority, for all that he’s not
faradhi.
” Chay closed his eyes as his wife rubbed soap across his chest, her fingers more caressing than efficient. “Oh, that’s good,” he murmured.

“Keep talking,” Tobin ordered.

“Well, it seems they lost some of the horses and all their baggage crossing the Faolain. I know that fording. It’s dangerous enough for most people, and I can imagine what those poor Sunrunners went through. The girl kept apologizing for their appearance. I think she expected them to make a grand entrance into Stronghold.”

“So did Andrade, and she’s not happy about it at all. Why won’t Rohan acknowledge Sioned?”

“I watched him with that dragon today,” Chay said slowly.

“We’ve always known he’s clever, but I never saw anything like the way he tricked that dragon. He knew all its weaknesses and played them to his own advantage. I have the feeling it’s going to be like that from now on, Tobin. And none of us is going to be able to figure him out in advance.”

“He’s going to tell me everything I want to know,” she said firmly.

“I’d walk carefully if I were you. He’s not your little brother anymore.”

“He’ll always be my little brother, and Goddess help him if he forgets it!” She lathered his hair. “What happened next?”

Chay squeezed his eyes shut as soap dripped down his face. “Nobody said a word the whole way back. But Rohan wasn’t thinking about dragons, believe me.”

“Hmm.” Tobin dumped a pitcher of clean water over his head.

“Finish it yourself. You know what happens every time I wash the rest of you.”

He smiled at her over his shoulder. “And things were getting interesting, too!”

Rohan’s bath was much less interesting, and much delayed. His mother stayed with him for quite some time, making him tell the entire story of the dragon-slaying twice while she ruthlessly cleansed and bound his wound. She then let him know precisely what variety of fool he was to do such a dangerous thing—before she suddenly started to cry.

Andrade appeared at last, ordered the princess to her own chambers, and wordlessly pointed to the bathroom door. Rohan balked.

“I washed you the morning you were born,” she reminded him tartly. “You put your fist in my eye then. Once is all you’re allowed, prince or no prince, so stop looking murderous. I want to talk to you in private.” She eyed the young squire, Walvis, who had attended her into the chamber. “Go on, child. I’m perfectly capable of handing him soap and towels.”