“Yes, of course you must,” Tallain said. “There will be questions asked that only you can answer, my lord.” Miyon swallowed with some difficulty. And Sioned was pleased to note that even Meiglan understood what questions Tallain referred to. She judged it time to intervene. Smoothing her expression, she started up the stairs.
“Ah, my lord,” she said to Miyon, “I’ve just seen your guard off on patrol. It was very thoughtful of you to add to our safety by sending your own people.”
He was trapped and he knew it. She had to admire his recovery as he said with adequate aplomb, “I considered that you and the High Prince have enough to do, and perhaps this person may get careless and be caught.”
“We can only hope so,” Sioned told him. “I want above all things to hear everything he has to say.”
“It should be quite a story.” Tallain sighed and shook his head.
Sioned conducted a little experiment. “Tell me, my lord, do you think Princess Chiana was under the influence of sorcery? Nothing else could explain the madness of the attack on Dragon’s Rest.”
“I think it likely,” Miyon said, and in his eyes was a glimmer of hope. Sioned wondered if he really believed they would let him get away with that excuse. But she perceived that he would try it. Although admitting to beguilement would make him appear ridiculous in the eyes of other princes, it would give him a chance to keep his life. She would enjoy watching him squirm before Rohan condemned him to death.
“I think so, too,” Tallain put in, aiding and abetting her shamelessly. “Lord Ostvel’s report through the Sunrunner Donato regarding the shattering of the mirror—shocking. Sorcery is the only reasonable explanation. No one is so stupid as to believe that their graces of the Desert and Princemarch could be defeated.”
Sioned saw Meiglan lower her lashes and turn white. So she could still feel fear—not of her father, but for her father. Amazing. But Sioned could not fault her for it, and, indeed, would have thought less of her had she greeted Miyon’s approaching downfall with glee.
The tension following Tallain’s last remarks was dissipated by Sionell. She took Meiglan’s arm and said, “I was just going for a stroll in the gardens. Won’t you come with me?”
“Thank you. I’d like that very much.”
The retreat in good order from a victory was gracious, graceful, and sent furious color into Miyon’s cheeks. Sioned smiled.
A little while later she had related the whole story to Rohan, Chay, and Tobin. “Cool as a cloud, not just standing up for herself but confident about it, without a trace of the hysterical child. I don’t know how it happened, but I wouldn’t have missed the sight of Miyon’s face for all the gold at Skybowl!”
“You already own all the gold at Skybowl,” Chay reminded her, grinning. “But I take your point. So he’s staying. Good. Rohan, will you have him executed here or at the Riallal”
“Oh, do wait!” Tobin said, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I wouldn’t want to miss hearing him try to explain in front of everyone how it was all due to sorcery.”
“Speaking of which. ...” Sioned hated to wreck the ease brought by laughter, but she had to. “Have any of you seen Pol this morning?”
“Maarken saw him on the way to your office,” Chay said. “I assume he’s studying the Star Scroll. And I’m told he now knows everything. You don’t think he’s fool enough to proclaim his ancestry as further proof of his right to Princemarch, do you?”
“I hope not.” Tobin shook her head. “I’m beginning to think you were right all these years, Chay, and I was wrong. He ought to have grown up knowing, so it wouldn’t be such a shock to him.”
Her lord and husband clapped both hands to his heart. “Fetch a scribe! Find parchment and pen! This is historic—she’s admitting to a mistake!”
Sioned met Rohan’s gaze. Our mistake, they told each other silently.
Tobin saw and understood the look. “Stop that at once,” she said severely. “We all did what we thought best.”
“And now he’s paying for it,” Sioned murmured.
“I said to stop it and I meant it!” Tobin exclaimed.
Chay added lightly, “I’m sure you can find something better to occupy your minds than what might or should or could have been.”
“Don’t patronize me,” Rohan snapped irritably. Sioned recognized the warning signs and exchanged a glance with Tobin. But she had to agree with the silent message she received in reply. Leaving Rohan alone would be even worse than keeping him company. Truth be told, none of them wanted to be left alone to think too much. Pol would ride to Rivenrock at dusk. There was nothing anybody could do until then but wait. It was a thing at which they had all had a great deal of practice. Not that that made it any easier.
As grateful as Meiglan obviously was for Sionell’s support and the timely exit she provided, once they reached the grotto it was obvious that the girl wanted to be alone with her excitement. Sionell had certain things to discover first, and went about it as obliquely as she could manage.
“Be careful to stay in the shade—that pale hair of yours is no protection at all from the sun.” She touched Meiglan’s untidy curls. “Was your mother’s hair this color? You don’t resemble your father at all.”
“My mother was blonde—” Meiglan stopped, her dark fawn’s eyes blinking up in confusion. Sionell waited, then smiled as the girl understood her real meaning. “No, I’m nothing like my father.”
“I thought not. Why don’t you stay here for a little while? Your maid needs the time to unpack your things.”
Another meaning to that, as well; this time Meiglan caught at it eagerly. “I don’t think she packed much. It was her suggestion that I stay here at Stronghold.”
“I see. Well, I hope it’s not too much work for her, taking care of you—now that Mireva is no longer available to help her.”
Quicker and quicker, Sionell mused. Meiglan comprehended this game. As big eyes grew even bigger, it became an interesting choice between believing her sudden apprehension was real and suspecting it was not. Sionell had given her the opening. It remained to see what she did with it.
Innocent worry clouded Meiglan’s face, as expected. But Sionell had not anticipated the narrowing of those eyes, the thoughtfulness of the voice, as if she puzzled this out aloud.
“Thanys—she did whatever Mireva told her. She was the senior of them, having been with me over two years, yet she—” Panic again, and honest concern for her servant. “Oh, my lady, do you think she could have been a victim of sorcery, too?”
“It’s possible, I suppose.” Sionell hid surprise—and admiration of the clever excuse, if cleverness it was. Goddess, she thought impatiently, when would this child reveal her true coloring?
“I shall have to question her very closely,” Meiglan went on, seemingly oblivious to her companion’s irritation. “Or should I ask someone else to do it? Tell me what to do, my lady.”
“As you think best,” Sionell replied, more sharply than she’d intended. “You are, after all, a lady who holds a manor in your own right. Your servants are your responsibility.”
“But I don’t know how!” the girl burst out. “I watched you at Tiglath—and the High Princess and the others here—you never have to give an order twice, sometimes you don’t have to give them at all! I can’t be like you, I don’t know how to be a great lady or even a little one!”
“Yet you see and understand the way we do things. It’s not difficult, Meiglan.” Sionell gave a little shrug. This was no time for lessons in highborn ways. Was that why she wanted to stay here at Stronghold, to learn how to be a High Princess? Stop it!
“No one would ever obey me,” Meiglan said sadly.
“Oh, I don’t know. You did a good piece of work on your father today.”
A tiny smile hovered around her mouth. “Yes—I did, didn’t I?” In a rush, clasping a startled Sionell’s hand, she went on, “I couldn’t have, not without you and Lord Tallain and the High Princess—I was so frightened, I was sure he’d beat me right in front of all of you. But I stood up to him, didn’t I? I said what I wanted—oh, Sionell, I was so angry! He used me against all of you, who’ve been so kind to me—he gave me all those jewels and pretty clothes and the fenath, and he was only trying to—”