hallways, and entered what Urival described as the north wing. Windows were open along the gallery from floor to ceiling, and a riot of scents from the garden below filled the sun-heated corridor.
“This is all Princess Milar’s doing,” Urival explained. “The gardens used to be nothing but bare rock and sand. She planned the gardens, laid out the walks, and put that little stream in. There’s even a fountain on the family’s side of the building.”
Sioned looked down at the neat flowerbeds and trees through which a stream and paths of silvery gravel wove like threads in a tapestry. Stone benches were set here and there, and little arched bridges painted blue and white spanned the thin trickle of water. Water was the most precious of elements here in the Desert. It was real wealth to have enough for the pleasant folly of a stream and fountain. Folly? Where she had grown up, they worried about floods. It occurred to her that she was already beginning to think like one born to this land, and was troubled anew by Rohan’s influence over her.
“It’s beautiful,” Camigwen said. “Like a giant’s hand with a little garden in its hollow. But what do they do when they want to see the sky?”
“Oh, it’s not like Goddess Keep, where we’re fogbound so much of the winter,” Urival said. “If there was nothing but an open sky between you and the sea and barely a tall rock in all the Long Sand, you’d feel very secure in these cliffs.” He raked back his graying dark hair and smiled wryly. “Hurry along, children. Your baths are getting warm.”
“Warm?” Ostvel asked blankly.
“Only a fool would take a hot bath in an oven like this.” Sioned was left alone in a chamber off her main room that, though small, was entirely adequate to her needs. The bath was ready, but for a time she was more interested in the tiny room that contained the tub. Cheerful blue and green tiles lined the floor, repeating the colors of the bedchamber. A large iron tub painted white rested in a carved wooden frame. Sink, shelving, towel racks—even the privy—were as dainty and elegant as the roses in a ceramic vase from Kierst beside the tub. Evidently Princess Milar had strong ideas about private comforts as well as public ones.
If this was the sort of room given an unimportant guest like herself, what must the rest of the keep be like? Sioned undressed and sank into the cool water, deciding Urival must have commanded one of the grander rooms for her. Luxuriating in the bath that soaked her tired body clean, she was glad he’d taken the trouble. But was she truly to become lady of this strange place?
She washed her hair and watched the strands float on the water, remembering something she knew and Rohan did not. From her would come his crown, the Fire of Sioned herself becoming the golden circlet across his brow. Yet it was he who would make her royal when he made her his wife. She recalled the dirty, exhausted young man she had met that afternoon, his quiet voice and his ability to ignite her senses, his mysterious plan that she had agreed to without thinking twice. He intended to use her, she thought suddenly. What kind of man used people so easily?
The answer came from a ruthlessly practical portion of her mind, the part untouched by Fire. He was a prince. She would be marrying power and lands and ambitions, not just a man. If he truly intended to marry her at all.
She rose from her bath and pulled the plug, noting how swiftly the water was sucked down—probably to flush out the middens, she thought, approving of the efficiency and cleanliness. During her childhood at River Run they had removed to a nearby manor for a time every summer so the filth could be cleaned from the garderobes. Again she realized how much water must be here, to waste it in keeping not just bodies but the castle clean.
After toweling dry, she went to the bedroom and dressed in the things left for her. The gown was a good fit, despite Cami’s apprehensions, and by far the prettiest thing she had ever worn. Sioned brushed and braided her hair, then draped a thin veil of silvery gray silk over her head, securing the material with a few plain pins. There was a full-length mirror set into one tiled wall, and as she