a maiden by the way she swung her hips,” Tobin mused. “I could swear he knew the very next morning after Chay and I first—” She broke off, blushing.
“I assume this was somewhat in advance of the wedding?” Sioned teased.
“A little,” Tobin admitted. “But what this means you’re going to seduce my brother, which means you intend to marry him. Oh, Sioned, I’m so relieved!”
“I knew it all along,” Camigwen scoffed, and nudged her friend playfully.
“You did not! Not for certain, anyway. Please tell me I’m a better actress than that or I won’t have a hope of fooling anyone.”
“You know you had me doubting,” Cami soothed. Then she addressed the princess. “But it’s no simple seduction we’re planning here. There are certain spells no one’s supposed to teach us until we have at least eight rings, and Andrade doesn’t know that we know them.” She sighed. “I never had reason to use them on Ostvel. It would’ve been fun to try!”
“It’s nothing dangerous, Tobin. Just a little Fire woven here and there—that’s what the candle’s for—and nothing you can use on a man against his will. Actually, I think it’s mostly the wine.” She winked at Camigwen.
“Tell me how I can help,” Tobin said.
“Does anyone sleep in his tent but him?”
“His squire, Walvis.”
“Oh, he’ll be in on things. He’s on my side anyway. If you can arrange to have the guards look the other way, I’ll do the rest.”
“It’s already arranged.” The princess glanced around to make sure they would not be overheard, then leaned forward and said, “You’ll have my help and my blessing, but I want to know a few things.”
Camigwen laughed. “But how will you explain to Lord Chaynal where you learned them?”
“He won’t have strength or breath to ask,” Tobin purred.
After a private dinner with Prince Clutha of Meadowland and Lord Jervis of Waes, his hosts here, Roelstra repaired to his barge and spent a little time with his mistress and his daughters. The first day of the Rialla was always dull, for no real business was done while everyone swarmed over the Fair. Roelstra had stayed in his tent and the princes had come to pay their respects. The only advantage to being bored by them was that occasionally one would let a hint drop about some matter, giving Roelstra something to think about. Still, his spies were efficient and he had heard nothing new today.
But as he sat with his female possessions over wine and sweet cakes, he reflected that there had been rewards to this day after all. Pandsala and Ianthe had gone to the Fair as ordered, and had returned to the barge with their impressions of Lady Sioned.
“Scrawny,” Ianthe sniffed when Palila asked what the girl looked like. “Bones and skin—freckled and tanned from being in the Desert all summer.”
“I thought her rather pretty,” Pandsala said unwillingly. “And there weren’t any freckles.”
“Dirt-specks, then.”
Naydra glanced up from her embroidery. “What can one expect from a Sunrunner drudge?”
“Is it true she’s to marry Rohan?” Palila asked on cue as Roelstra signaled her with a glance.
“I had my maid talk to one of their grooms last night,” Gevina said. “They’re confused about it. She arrived on Lady Andrade’s order to become his bride, but he wouldn’t have her. And what’s more, they also say that she won’t have him!”
Lenala cleared her throat. “He’s very handsome, though.”
Roelstra favored her with a patient gaze. “How observant of you, my dear.”
“Gevina’s right,” Pandsala put in. “The girl said herself this afternoon that she’s not sure she’ll have him. What a fool!”
“He is very handsome,” Lenala said, emboldened by her father’s approval.
Ianthe rose and tucked a pillow behind Palila’s back where she lounged on a velvet chaise. “Is that better?” she asked solicitously as Palila stiffened.
“I’m quite all right,” the mistress snapped, and Roelstra hid a grin. He sometimes missed the stimulation of several mistresses who all loathed each other, but the clashes between his daughters and Palila were nearly as amusing. Aladra had been the first truly nice woman he had been attracted to since the death of his wife, but he knew himself well enough to realize he would have grown bored with her eventually. It was better that she had died and left him with fond memories. Had she established peace and sweetness in his household, he would have expired of nausea and boredom.
“Princess Tobin is on her side, it seems,” Ianthe said after she had reseated herself near the windows. “Sioned made a