her heavy lashes drooping slightly over fierce eyes.
“Bitches, both of them,” Tobin said. “Pay them no mind.”
“No? He can’t marry any of them and expect to live long past the birth of his first son. But—Goddess, Tobin, they are both so beautiful—”
“And you’re not?”
Camigwen came up, triumphantly carrying the lute. Sioned busied herself admiring the instrument, almost feverish in her praise. Tobin, deciding she would not allow the royal bitches to spoil the day’s pleasure, formed her plans quickly. She paid for the two knights, ordering them wrapped and sent to her tent.
“Wrap the doll as well,” she instructed. “Sioned, Cami, we’re going to a jeweler’s next, and then—”
“No,” Sioned murmured, placing the doll back on the counter. “Thank you for showing her to me. I’m sure she’ll be greatly loved by some lucky little girl. I’m older, and my toys are different. Cami, you’re about to get your wish.”
Tobin’s plans sailed away on the afternoon breeze as she and Cami followed Sioned through the Fair, Meath in silent attendance. Past booths filled with rugs, copperware, blankets, saddles, and parchment books they walked, purpose in Sioned’s every stride. She paused to buy a single blue candle, then continued on, ignoring the displays of furniture, leather goods, and stained glass. Finally she stopped at a silk merchant’s and after a moment spent scrutinizing the wares, pointed imperiously to a bolt nearly hidden in the back of the booth.
“I want to see that one,” she informed the merchant.
He looked her up and down, obviously discouraged by her plain clothing. Tobin, standing beside and slightly behind Sioned, signaled with a lifted finger and a nod. The merchant shrugged and the silk was produced.
Thick, heavy, nubby stuff it was, the color of pale cream and made even stiffer by silver traceries of flowers and leaves wandering all over it. By sunlight it was dazzling; by torchlight, it would blaze as if made of stars.
“Yes,” Sioned affirmed. “Have it ready for me by the Lastday banqueting.”
“Impossible!” the man wailed.
“All things are possible. I’ll send someone with the design, and Goddess help you if it’s not followed exactly.” She held out her hand silently, and Camigwen gave her a purse. Sioned counted out gold coins, weighing them in her hand. “The rest when I see the finished gown. And for this price, I expect stitches so fine I won’t be able to see them.”
“Yes, my lady,” he breathed as she spilled coins into his waiting palm.
“I thought so.” She headed for the next booth, where she bought a white linen shift as plain as the silk had been ornate. It was wrapped and given to Meath, who accepted it philosophically and added it to his bags. The next stop was a display of Fironese crystal that shot sparks for ten paces around. Cami, native of Firon, bartered with expert knowledge, and Sioned came away with a pair of intricately etched blue goblets. At another merchant’s, slippers were bought to match the gown, and when Sioned had chosen a bottle of fine Syrene wine she was satisfied at last. They returned across the bridge, Meath pretending to stagger under the weight of his burdens.
“I may take up a new profession: hermit! Away from all women and especially away from all merchants! But it’s been a real pleasure, ladies, watching you spend money that isn’t mine.”
He went to deposit their purchases in Tobin’s tent, and the women continued along the river to find an isolated spot beneath a tree. Camigwen sat down with her back resolutely to the water, her arms wrapped around the lute.
“I suppose you forgot that Ostvel doesn’t know a note,” Sioned remarked.
“But he has a wonderful singing voice, and he said once that he always wanted to learn how to play. This will be my wedding gift to him.” She winked. “He doesn’t know it yet, but the Lastday ceremonies will include us!”
“I’m glad,” Tobin said warmly. “Chay and I will drink to you both. Now, would either of you care to enlighten me about Sioned’s purchases?”
The faradh’im shared a grin, and Camigwen said, “She has an advantage over those princesses, you know. They’re virgins.”
“Down to their toenails,” Sioned agreed.
“Isolated at Castle Crag all their lives—”
Tobin joined in, laughing. “Precious flowers without even a brother to show them the difference between boys and girls—”
“And probably not knowing what to do about it even if they’re aware of the difference!” Camigwen concluded with a sly smile.
“My father always said you could tell a woman from