cousins, and it’s so nice to be out of the hot sun. How sweet it was of Prince Lleyn to see to our comfort!”
There was more in a similar vein, and Rohan blessed her for turning into a scattershell for his benefit. Sioned sat in cool silence, her back stiff and her expression set in stone. She wore a russet linen gown and no jewelry but her Sunrunner’s rings and his emerald. Aware that noticing the ring had brought a smile to his lips, he looked from her to Pandsala.
She met him stare for stare, and unlike her sister Ianthe did not blush. He offered a pleasantry about the weather; she responded with a polite nod. He asked if she was enjoying the races; she nodded again and stared down at the track. Rohan began to feel irked. He deserved better than this and had nearly decided to go about getting it when he realized that he was reacting precisely as Pandsala wished. The notion that his clever self had nearly been outsmarted by this girl both amused and irritated him. Pandsala with her ploy of indifference and Ianthe with her obvious interest were a potent pair. All at once he wondered if Andrade had foreseen his reaction, and provided Sioned to counter any attractions he might feel toward the princesses. Certainly he had twice today come close to forgetting his probable lifespan if he wed either. But the thought of Sioned kept him from any serious danger.
His mare came in second in the race. Through the next interval and the race following he divided his attention between his sister and the two princesses, ignoring Sioned completely. She did not appear to notice.
To Ianthe he said, “I have great hopes for my entry in the fourth. There she is now—her name’s Eliziel, which means ‘cloudfoot’ in the old language.”
“She’s a beauty,” Ianthe responded warmly. “Do you take an interest in the old tongue, cousin?”
“After a fashion. Mostly to name my horses.”
Sioned’s brows shot up. “We’re taught at Goddess Keep that the old words have great power and should not be used lightly, my lord.”
“How quaint,” Pandsala murmured.
“Who’s that up on Eliziel?” Tobin asked quickly.
“Ostvel,” Sioned supplied in a colorless voice. “I marvel, my lord, that you allow someone from Goddess Keep on one of your precious horses.”
“He more than earned the privilege on the way here, so I rewarded him with the honor of riding her.”
His own reward was a frigid silence. Tobin giggled and pointed to their right. “Oh, look—there’s Camigwen with Andrade. She looks as if she doesn’t know whether to be proud or terrified!”
Ostvel on a mere horse was an excellent rider; Ostvel mounted on a mare of Eliziel’s quality inevitably won the race. Rohan grinned smugly.
“Camigwen will look lovely in carnelians,” Tobin observed.
“Is that to be the prize for this race?” Pandsala asked her sister, then turned to Rohan without waiting for an answer. “Will you really give the rider gems won by your horse?”
“He needs a wedding gift for his lady.” He delighted in having made not only Ostvel’s pleasure but Cami’s as well. Being a prince was wonderful fun.
“How generous of you,” Ianthe said, smiling. “And how lucky that carnelians will suit his lady so well, according to your sister. But surely such jewels are a little grand for a faradhi.”
“A beautiful woman deserves beautiful things,” Tobin said sweetly. “All the better if the man has the taste to match her bridal necklet to her coloring.”
“No two women are alike,” Rohan agreed blithely, and won a blank stare from Sioned for this idiotic statement. “For Pandsala, for instance, nothing would do but diamonds to match the sparkle in her eyes. And for Ianthe—the darkest of garnets, though they would be poor rivals to the color of her lips.”
“And Lady Sioned?” Ianthe purred.
“Emeralds, of course,” Pandsala said before Rohan could open his mouth. “You do have the most remarkable eyes,” she added to the Sunrunner.
Sioned nodded civil thanks for the compliment. “I would settle for common river stones from a man I truly loved.”
“A man who truly loved you would provide emeralds,” Rohan shot back. “Whoever he may turn out to be, I hope I provided him an example in that ring.”
“You gave it to her?” Pandsala was shocked into an honest reaction, and Rohan struggled bravely not to laugh.
“He did,” Tobin affirmed. “She saved my sons’ lives on the Hatching Hunt.”
“Not I, your highness,” Sioned protested. “It was Prince Rohan who chased the dragon