“Your luck has run out for the night, my dear,” he told her, grimly amused. “Feruche you may have for your own, but Rohan you may not have. It seems the Sunrunner has a prior claim.”
“The Sunrunner,” Ianthe whispered. All at once she understood the hatred that had lashed the air between her father and Andrade. Fury and wounded pride and the desire for vengeance swept through her, creating a hatred she embraced as if it was a lover. She had been empty all her life, waiting to be filled with this sweet, hot thing that grew inside her, singing of blood and revenge. And at last she had found her definition of power—not through a princely husband or her father or any other person—power stronger than the paltry gifts of a Sunrunner. This thing was what made her father so powerful a prince. He knew how to hate.
“I see you understand me,” he said. “Return to the camp, Ianthe, and wait for me. We have much to discuss after I finish here.”
As she closed the door she glimpsed the candle flame hovering near Palila’s stricken face. And as she stepped off the ship onto the dock, she heard the first of many, many screams.
Dawn’s light filtered through pale silver-green leaves, light as velvety as new roses. Sioned, sensitive to color like all faradh’im, lay on her side and wondered if she had ever seen light this beautiful. She smiled at her own foolishness; it wasn’t the color or even the softness that caught at her heart. It was the sleeping face that the light caressed.
He had been shy at first, trembling, uncertain—until the fastenings of her skirt had frustrated him into a muttered curse that brought a burst of laughter from her. And all at once they were both giggling like children, the knotted ties of her clothes and the tight fit of his boots ridiculous obstacles after the other things they’d endured for this moment.
Sioned smoothed the sunsilk hair from his forehead, knowing now that her vision of years ago had been true. She was the one who had made him a prince and a man. For a little while the two had been ensnared within each other. Sired by a dragonlord whose virile image lingered, the prince had wanted to live up to an imagined, impossible standard and the man had been unsure of his ability to do so. But in her arms he had found both identities. The prince and the man joined in becoming her lover.
His caresses had sighed along her skin and his whispers shone like sunlight in her mind, kisses glowing rich with his colors that she touched in all their power and purity: diamond, sapphire, topaz. All her senses awakened to him, knowing the Sunrunner blood within him would merge with hers and make their son a faradhi prince.
“Just so long as he has your eyes, beloved,” she whispered, fingertip skimming along the silky curve of his lashes. She smiled as his eyelids slowly opened, almost too heavy to lift.
“Ohhh. . . .” he whispered, voice slurred. “What’d you do t’me?”
Sioned stroked his cheek, relishing the rough stubble of blond beard. “Would you like me to do it again?”
“Some other time, when I’m alive enough to enjoy it,” he replied drowsily. Pulling her into his arms, he settled her head on his shoulder. “Damn. I forgot to undo your braids. I wanted to see your hair loose.”
“Oh, save something for our marriage bed,” she chuckled.
“But I did. Chay told me once about—”
“Rohan!”
“—something I’ve always wanted to try,” he finished. “I’ll let it be a surprise.” He rubbed his cheek to her hair. “Mmm, but you smell good.”
“Not me, the mossberries. I think we crushed them into wine.” She rolled onto her stomach and pulled her skirt from under his head where it had been their pillow. “See?” She poked a finger under the moss where the plump green berries were hiding.
Rohan turned over with an inelegant grunt. “Are there any we didn’t mash to a pulp? I’m starving.” He pulled aside the moss and plucked a few of the plump spheres. “Here—open your mouth.”
“Again?”
Rohan’s eyes went wide with shock, but in the next instant they were both giggling again. They lay side by side and fed each other mossberries while the sunlight warmed the leafy canopy above them. At last she said, “That’s enough, we’ll get sick. We’d best sneak back to camp