Dragon Prince - By Melanie Rawn Page 0,83

it’ll be because he really wants me.”

“To hell with the princesses!” Camigwen exploded.

“The others are almost here,” Ostvel interrupted. “We’ll have to find a good place to set up camp. Fight with her later, Cami, we’ve got work to do.”

“How can I fight with her when she doesn’t care?” But she followed Ostvel down the hill, leaving Sioned to stare down at the gaudy camp, biting her lip.

By evening the Desert contingent was established in blue tents. Having done her part at Camigwen’s direction, Sioned slipped away to explore. The Rialla would officially begin tomorrow with the High Prince’s arrival, and she would have to become Rohan’s extra eyes, ears, and tongue. She must behave as if she did not want him, conduct herself with silent modesty in public and private—and try to ignore a growing desire to flay the royal daughters until their skin was in ribbons.

But something more serious worried her, and that was the Sunrunner Roelstra had somehow corrupted. Andrade had questioned her during the journey, but Sioned had been unable to supply many details. She was certain, however, that whoever it was had also been there the night Princess Tobin had been ensnared in the moonrunning. It was a pity she did not know how to identify and seek out this renegade faradhi and help him. Sioned’s heart cringed every time she recalled his despairing plea to be forgiven.

As the sun went down, lights were lit within the tents, making huge colored lanterns of them. Sioned paused in her walk through the camps—unchallenged because of her rings—and watched the shadow-shows given by people unaware that their movements could be seen against the light. One expanse of scarlet silk showed her a man and woman locked in an embrace; laughter sounded and the light was abruptly extinguished. Farther along, a turquoise tent showed one man gesturing angrily at another. The latter’s defiant posture slowly wore down until he fell to his knees with head bowed. Sioned wondered what might be seen on other nights, especially against the blue walls of Rohan’s tent.

She returned to the Desert camp and sat down on a small stool outside the tent she would share with Camigwen and three other faradhi women. A brazier filled with glowing coals was before her and she gestured them into flame with a wave of her hand. The motion brought a quick spark from the emerald on her finger. Both hands out in front of her, she stared at her rings. Eight of them now, but only seven earned in the faradhi manner. She still did not know why she had done so dangerous a thing as to weave herself into the distant faradhi’s working—or, rather, she knew why and feared to admit it. What would she not do for Rohan? she wondered, troubled anew by her response to him. Urival was right to be wary. She would use her gifts and her skills on Rohan’s behalf, no matter what his intentions. Her power with sun- and moonlight was nothing compared to his power over her.

Rebellion stirred, and she told herself she would not become one such as the other faradhi obviously was to Roelstra. Yet the man hated his enslavement; Sioned knew that her own would be welcome. Goddess, what a fool her heart had made of her. She glared down at the emerald, which Tobin had informed her had been in the family for nobody knew how long. It was said to be possessed of a magic all its own. Green for her eyes, she thought, damning Rohan again for putting her through the public display.

The gold rings caught her attention and her thoughts turned to the discovery in the hatching cave. If Rohan was correct, then life would change drastically in the Desert. With unlimited wealth, he could buy whatever he wanted for himself and his people. He could purchase whole princedoms and their princes—or princesses, she added with a grimace. Everyone had a price.

She tried to believe that she did not, that nothing could induce her to betray her training as the other faradhi had done—but the living refutation suddenly walked into view, arms wide as he stretched. Hot color rose in her cheeks and she turned her face to the fire. For him, anything; it frightened her. He would never ask—or so she had to believe—but it was bitter to know she would betray anything and anyone for him.

“Sioned?”

His footsteps whispered in the damp grass. She held out her hands to

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