as if she’d been born to it. Sioned had been a lovely girl, but maturity had transformed her into the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He traced the elegant curve of her shoulder with one finger and smiled tenderly.
“Besides which, woman, what makes you think I’d even be capable with someone else? I have an exclusive taste for long-legged redheads with green eyes.”
“Fool,” she accused.
“I know,” he agreed, pleased that she was willing to smile again. “That first summer—do you remember? I tried and tried to find a girl to go to bed with—stop laughing at me!” he chided as she giggled. “You were awful to me and you know it. Would you put me through that kind of humiliation again?”
“I just might. You’ve grown entirely too arrogant, my lord dragon prince.”
“Sioned, don’t you dare tickle me! Sioned!”
They ended up laughing, and Rohan was relieved that her moodiness had vanished. He opened the wine bottle and they drank from the Fironese goblets, listening to the waterfall and watching the stars. Yet part of him continued to worry. A son’s legitimacy was secondary to his existence—and his fitness to rule. It was entirely possible that a prince’s legitimate son would turn out a fool and his illegitimate one suited to inherit the responsibilities of a princedom. But Rohan could not imagine touching any woman other than his wife, much less begetting a bastard son.
Maarken would be his heir, if the need arose. If Chay and Tobin decided that their firstborn would be happier with only Radzyn as his share, then there were the two younger boys, Sorin and Andry. In any case, a prince of Zehava’s blood would rule over the Desert when Rohan was gone.
It was not until much later, when he and Sioned had gone upstairs at last, that he realized he had tacitly admitted he might not have any sons at all.
Chapter Twenty
Princess Ianthe ripped open her father’s seal and unfolded the parchment, scowling as she noted the date of the letter. She reminded herself of dear, dead Pallia’s warning about wrinkles and smoothed her face into more pleasant lines. But her irritation was not so easily banished; it had taken fully ten days for this letter to arrive from Castle Crag. Through winter snows, spring runoff, summer heat, autumn rain—not to mention rockslides, bandits, or plain bad luck—the couriers never moved fast enough to suit her. Andrade’s interdict on Castle Crag and Feruche was a vast inconvenience. But the messages that passed between father and daughter could not have been entrusted to a Sunrunner in any case, she reminded herself, not even one seduced by dranath as Crigo had been.
As usual, Roelstra wasted no time on family news. Neither he nor Ianthe cared about her sisters. Besides, she had her spies in his household just as he had watchers in hers who reported anything of interest. It was part of the cynical, amusing game they played in pretending to trust one another. His opening “Dearest Daughter” was in the same vein.Plague deaths have opened up many excellent possibilities, most notably Einar for me and Tiglath for you. Kuteyn of Einar’s surviving son is now a lad of ten winters, and his widow is a simpering nonentity incapable of governing her own maids, let alone the city and its lands. Additionally, certain documents have come to light suggesting that those lands once belonged to Princemarch. Pimantal of Fessenden will be irked by this, as he has eyes on the same territory. Saumer of Isel will support my claim on this, you will be happy to know, for we recently concluded a secret agreement based on my controlling Einar. You may so inform his agents in your court—and in Volog’s halls as well, so he may decide whether his profit lies in supporting me or Fessenden. He grew used to working with Saumer when the Plague forced them to it. This may continue.
Insofar as Tiglath is concerned, you know of course that Eltanin lost his fair-haired darling bride in childbed and their first son to the Plague. The second boy thrives, but Eltanin himself is reported much aged, the result of his personal losses and his own slow recovery from the Plague. Others are similarly weakened, but more of this at another time.
Our Merida allies tell me they are preparing an assault against Tiglath as soon as Rohan is at the Rialla. THIS MUST NOT HAPPEN. We must adhere to our original plan. And I warn you,