neither voice nor face obeyed. “I have to set an example, you know, and I will not have you and Ostvel in my household unless you’re properly married. Now, what do you say to that?”
She sank into a deep curtsy marred by shaking shoulders and a giggle. “Dragon-spawned you were, I’ll take oath!”
“Actually, it’s Sioned and I who’ll follow your example, for I had tomorrow in mind for you and Ostvel and it’ll take time to arrange a wedding for us. Will that suit?”
“Perfectly!”
Rohan got to his feet and impulsively kissed her. “Lucky man, our Ostvel,” he said to make her blush.
“Lucky woman, our Sioned!” she retorted, and they laughed.
Palila sat alone in her cabin, colossally bored. One of her maids had just finished rubbing oils into her body to keep the pregnancy from marking her flesh, but even that sensuous pleasure no longer held any charms for her. She wanted to be out in the world, enjoying men’s glances of admiration: and women’s glares of envy. By the Storm God, how she hated being pregnant.
Roelstra’s entry into her cabin startled her nearly speechless. She gave rapid thanks that she was dressed in a lavish bedrobe and her hair was arranged as he liked it. But he did not appear to notice. To any other man she would have presented the very picture of ripening womanhood in which he would find smug pride. But Roelstra had seen more child-heavy females than any man except a physician.
“Crigo doesn’t seem well,” he said without preamble.
“Has he been taking too much, or too little?”
“Probably the former, after his deprivation during the journey here.” He paced the cabin restlessly, fingers brushing over tables, chairs, brass fixtures, tapestry curtains shielding the windows. “I’ve forgotten what the usual dose is of dranath to wine. It’s been a long time since we took him—useless fool,” he added irritably.
Every instinct she possessed stood up and howled out a warning, but she managed a smile. “A profitable time, my lord. I believe it’s half a handful to a large pitcher. But why not ask him? He’s been preparing his own for years.”
The High Prince shrugged. “Didn’t you hear me? He’s been taking too much. He’s sitting in his tent now, barely coherent, unable even to tell me where he keeps it. We’ll have to ration him, Palila. Where’s the supply?”
“In the third drawer of my wardrobe.” She watched as he retrieved the wooden box from among the array of her filmy silk underclothes—a sight that invariably turned his thoughts to making love with the woman who owned them. But he didn’t even see her. “What shall I tell him when he wants more?”
“He won’t. I don’t want him bothering you, my pet.” He traced the carvings on the box with one finger, then met her gaze, smiling. “Not a single thing should worry you, in case it might worry our son.”
She cried out happily. “That’s the first time you’ve said it will be a boy!”
“I hope it will be so,” he corrected. “But then, I’ve been hoping for twenty-five years. Still, by the next Rialla I just may be presenting the rabble with their next High Prince.”
“I hope he pisses on Andrade,” she declared, dimpling.
“No son of mine would have such barbaric manners—but I like the idea!” He came to her, ran one finger down her cheek. “Rest well, my dear. I’ll want you at your loveliest for the Lastday celebrations.”
“As you command me, my lord,” she said, smiling up at him.
“I wish my daughters were as careful of my pleasures as you are, Palila. Remind me to tell you about their maneuverings, especially regarding that Sunrunner girl.” His eyes lit with amusement—and something more—as he smiled and left her.
She sank back into the cushions and shredded their fringe distractedly. Instinct continued to shriek at her while she reviewed every word of the conversation, cold to her marrow as the words became a single hideous sentence: her sentence of dismissal and Crigo’s of death.
She had not lived with Roelstra for over fourteen years without coming to understand him. His gaze wandered each time she approached term, but each time she managed the affairs herself, making sure they were brief and unproductive. The girls vanished from Castle Crag once Palila was physically recovered from childbirth. It was part of her longevity as Roelstra’s mistress that she saw to his pleasures even when she was unable to participate in them herself.
But this time was different. She sensed it along every nerve.