to kill, but that was no excuse. She had shattered a faradhi’s most binding vow in Rohan’s defense.
All at once it occurred to her that perhaps Andrade had counted on exactly that.
The concept stunned her. The Lady was wily, manipulative, ambitious, and arrogant, yet she could not intend for Sioned to ignore all traditional restraints on the use of faradhi power. Surely she could not be that cruel, to make Sioned responsible.
But maybe she was. Maybe in making a princess of a trained Sunrunner, she had calculated that the gifts would become partisan ones, that Sioned would break the vows for the sake of her prince. Andrade could not have ordered such a thing, nor said outright that she expected it of Sioned. But, abruptly, it made sense. Andrade had said nothing, but Sioned suddenly realized what was being asked of her. Not merely to create a son who would be prince and Sunrunner as well—but to create the new rules by which her son would live.
And Rohan—what would he ask of her? Could she trust his wisdom to keep her from having to make the choice again and again? She trembled inside the heavy fur, knowing that she had made her choice: Rohan. And for him she would do whatever she had to, as faradhi and princess.
As she sat under rainy branches there was yet one thing that puzzled her until the obvious answer occurred to her. The princes would be livid when they found out Andrade intended to marry one of her Sunrunners to a prince. But they did not yet know, thanks to Rohan’s little scheme with Roelstra’s daughters. Wiping rain from her face, she smiled with grim anticipation of the uproar. If they disliked that event, they’d have fits when the children were born.
Sioned was unaware of those who watched her from the meager shelter of other trees. Walvis was nearly invisible, shivering in a cloak wrapping him from nose to boots. Meath was invisible to both squire and Sunrunner, whom he had been following since Hildreth warned him of Sioned’s restlessness. He told himself that if she wanted to be alone to think, she could at least have picked a nice, dry tent instead of wandering all over the countryside. Muttering a curse under his breath, he huddled closer to his tree.
Rohan was at that moment cursing himself for inflicting his more radical ideas on unsuspecting princes. Despite the rain, the conference continued—if one could dignify the current argument by that polite term. Rohan had made a serious error, inexcusable even by his weariness. He had not slept after Ianthe had left him, and had come very close to seeking out Sioned for satisfaction of desires the princess had aroused. The very idea had disgusted him. Still, he had not closed his eyes until dawn, for as he considered Ianthe’s actions, he worried more about their implications. To put the finish to his discomfort, rain made him nervous right down to his Desert-bred bones. But a prince could make no excuses for his mistakes, not even to himself. Rohan, listening to the conflict that raged around him, wished he’d kept his stupid mouth shut.
He had begun well enough. In innocent tones he had put forth the suggestion that it would be useful for him to know what his borders were. He really did need to know, after all, exactly what he was prince of. His intention had been obvious enough even for a dull-witted prince like Saumer of Isel. The Merida attack had again prompted the question of rights to certain Desert lands—with Roelstra doing the prompting—and Rohan wanted to define what belonged to him—and, more importantly, what no longer belonged to his enemies. The princes did not realize that his true goals were more subtle. With everyone agreed on what he owned, failure of the Merida to remove themselves from Desert land would give Rohan the legal excuse he needed for invasion. No other prince would dare aid the Merida while Rohan was engaged in recovering what had been decided was his. But, more far-reaching than this, he knew that stable government required stable borders. He had intended to start by proposing distinct boundaries for his own lands, and then in future years encourage other princes to do the same. But they had leaped ahead to things Rohan had hoped to save for the next Rialla. He had not counted on the fierce rivalry between Princes Saumer and Volog. They shared their island in