as a friend, but she also knew she was incapable of spending another instant in the princesses’ vicinity—especially if they were in Rohan’s company. So she went down to the river, sat beneath a tree, and tried not to think about him—and what she had done for him today.
Full of himself he’d been, flushed with triumph, attention, and a safe escape from mortal danger. Flirting with that insufferable pair, using those eyes and that smile to an effect he was only too happy to exploit. Speaking to Sioned only in hopes of igniting her temper. Damn him, anyway.
A cheer went up from the direction of High Prince Roelstra’s tents and she made a sour face. The awarding of prizes had begun. Tobin would have her rubies, Cami her sultry carnelians. Sioned hoped Rohan choked on his emeralds.
“Congratulations, my lord prince,” she muttered, and lay back flat in the damp grass to watch the clouds drifting over the rising moons. She knew what her trouble was—one of her troubles, anyway. She was jealous. Sickeningly, foolishly jealous of the jewels and silks and beauty of the two princesses, jealous that they could flirt with him and she could not, jealous of his compliments and attention. “But you’re mine, you conniving blue-eyed son of a dragon,” she whispered. “And by the Goddess, I’m going to prove it to you.”
But did she want a man who could make her do what she had done today? She argued with herself for a long time, one part of her reasoning that she had probably saved Rohan’s life by setting up the conjuring of a dragon to terrify the Merida. Yet that conjure had killed. Against all her intentions she had broken the most binding of faradhi vows. It was the culmination of what Urival had warned against—using her powers for Rohan alone, not caring a damn for anyone but him. Her feelings had betrayed her into murder. Could there be any justification for that? Was it possible to merge faradhi and princess into someone new? How could they ask her to serve so many loyalties? Her training at Goddess Keep, her love for Rohan, her duty to the Desert—what about her duty to herself, to Sioned? She was not even sure she had a choice.
She could marry Rohan and forswear her gifts, become only a princess and reject all temptation to use them to his benefit. But part of his reason for wanting her and Andrade’s in proposing her was the power she possessed. She was expected to be both faradhi and princess. If she stopped being the former, then what example would her children have in the wise use of gifts they would almost certainly inherit? They would have princely powers from Rohan—but they would be faradh’im as well. A Sunrunner’s loyalty was to Goddess Keep, not to any single princedom. She was being asked to split herself—and her children—between Andrade and Rohan, and the choice was tearing her apart.
No. That was a lie. She put her hands over her face and turned onto her stomach, unable to bear the touch of soft, cool moonlight on her cheeks. She had made her choice today. She had used her powers to kill.
It was not the first such death, either. She remembered the wine steward at Stronghold, how he had been caught between her and Roelstra’s faradhi, how he had died. She had made her choice then and not even realized it.
But, knowing what she now knew, she could refuse to marry Rohan. She could stay Sunrunner only and not become a princess, remove all temptation. She could see him wed to another woman.
Never.
She lay there a long time, breathing deeply of the moist, pungent scent of crushed grass beneath her cheek. The night chill made her shiver. She had no choice, and she knew it. She had set the trap herself with her own feelings, her pride, her needs. She would marry Rohan, be Sunrunner and princess. If they expected it of her, it was no less than she expected of herself.
Sioned sat up, raked her fingers back through her untidy hair, and stared moodily out at the river for a time. Then, rising, she went down to the sandy shore and searched by moonlight for a few smooth river stones. She rolled them between her hands, a grim smile crossing her face. She had faced up to the truth. Rohan was her price, and she had been well and truly bought. There was a strange