"Catch her breath."
"Who?" Lionstar asked.
"Kamoj," the woman said.
"Who's that?" he asked.
This isn't happening, Kamoj thought.
The woman stared at him. "Your wife."
Lionstar turned to her. "Kamoj? Is that your name?"
"Yes," Kamoj said.
"'S pretty," he said. "Like you."
"She hasn't even had a chance to unpack," the woman said.
"Unpack what?" he asked.
"Her suitcases. Trunks. I don't know." The woman looked at the two servants. "Whatever her belongings came in."
"She donnee have any, Colonel Pacal," the plump woman said.
The tall woman looked startled. Turning back to Lionstar, she said, "Saints above, Vyrl. Didn't you arrange for her things to be brought up?"
"If it hasn't been done," he growled, "then do it."
The woman blinked at him. Then she turned to Kamoj and spoke gently, as if Kamoj were a child instead of a grown woman. "Do you have things you would like? We can send someone down to Argali House in the morning."
Kamoj nodded. "Thank you. Lyode will know what to send."
"Lyode?" the woman asked. "Is that a person?"
Lionstar scowled. "Dazza, stop interrogating her."
Kamoj wished they would decide what to call one another. Was the tall woman Dazza or Colonel Pacal? Was Lionstar a governor or a prince? The tall woman had called him Vyrl. A shortened version of Havyrl, probably. Perhaps if she thought of him by a nickname, it would make all this seem less intimidating.
Vyrl dismissed the servants and Dazza again, and this time he glared until they left. Then he pushed open the door. The staircase beyond spiraled up inside the tower at this end of the palace.
Although the steps had been repaired, the rough stone was otherwise untouched. The only windows were slits high on the walls. No glass showed in them, just the light curtains.
They climbed three flights to a landing. Vyrl opened the door there and escorted her into a spare chamber only a few paces across, its stone walls polished but unadorned. Its inner door opened into a large, austere bedroom.
Kamoj had last seen this suite with snow drifted across its broken floor. Now the floor was whole, a smooth expanse of stone with no rugs. The walls were also bare stone, except for two crossed swords over the bed. No fire burned in the hearth, yet the room felt warm. The tanglebirch furniture was new: a solid desk, chairs, and a wardrobe against the far wall, all made from wood with blue and green highlights in scale patterns. The bed on the dais to their left had always been there, but now its posters were repaired and varnished, its covers and canopy new. In the wall next to it, a door stood ajar, revealing a corner of the bathing room. Everything was clean, fresh, and devoid of ornamentation.
One unexpected touch softened the decor; across the room, a curtain made from strings of sparkling beads hung in an archway.
Vyrl squinted at the room. "'S not so good for a wedding night, is it? Solar told me this."
"Solar?" Kamoj asked.
"One of the housemaids." Vyrl led her to the beaded archway. "She said she'd prepare a place for you." He pulled back the beads, moving aside for her.
Kamoj stopped, both charmed and awkward with his offer to let her enter first. Deciding it would be ruder to refuse his courtesy than to precede him, she walked into the small room.
She saw the difference immediately. This room felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with temperature. Tapestries softened the walls and the delicate sunglass furniture sparkled. The shutters across the room were open, revealing a stained glass window with a rose in its center. To her right, a comforter lay on the floor, and posts rose from each of its corners, totems like those on her bed at home. Kamoj wondered why they put the bedding on the ground. Then she remembered. This chamber had been a second bathing room. Vyrl's people must have filled the small pool with mattresses for her bed.
"This is all for me?" she asked.
"Can't be for me," Vyrl said. "I'd break those chairs if I sat in
"Who?" Lionstar asked.
"Kamoj," the woman said.
"Who's that?" he asked.
This isn't happening, Kamoj thought.
The woman stared at him. "Your wife."
Lionstar turned to her. "Kamoj? Is that your name?"
"Yes," Kamoj said.
"'S pretty," he said. "Like you."
"She hasn't even had a chance to unpack," the woman said.
"Unpack what?" he asked.
"Her suitcases. Trunks. I don't know." The woman looked at the two servants. "Whatever her belongings came in."
"She donnee have any, Colonel Pacal," the plump woman said.
The tall woman looked startled. Turning back to Lionstar, she said, "Saints above, Vyrl. Didn't you arrange for her things to be brought up?"
"If it hasn't been done," he growled, "then do it."
The woman blinked at him. Then she turned to Kamoj and spoke gently, as if Kamoj were a child instead of a grown woman. "Do you have things you would like? We can send someone down to Argali House in the morning."
Kamoj nodded. "Thank you. Lyode will know what to send."
"Lyode?" the woman asked. "Is that a person?"
Lionstar scowled. "Dazza, stop interrogating her."
Kamoj wished they would decide what to call one another. Was the tall woman Dazza or Colonel Pacal? Was Lionstar a governor or a prince? The tall woman had called him Vyrl. A shortened version of Havyrl, probably. Perhaps if she thought of him by a nickname, it would make all this seem less intimidating.
Vyrl dismissed the servants and Dazza again, and this time he glared until they left. Then he pushed open the door. The staircase beyond spiraled up inside the tower at this end of the palace.
Although the steps had been repaired, the rough stone was otherwise untouched. The only windows were slits high on the walls. No glass showed in them, just the light curtains.
They climbed three flights to a landing. Vyrl opened the door there and escorted her into a spare chamber only a few paces across, its stone walls polished but unadorned. Its inner door opened into a large, austere bedroom.
Kamoj had last seen this suite with snow drifted across its broken floor. Now the floor was whole, a smooth expanse of stone with no rugs. The walls were also bare stone, except for two crossed swords over the bed. No fire burned in the hearth, yet the room felt warm. The tanglebirch furniture was new: a solid desk, chairs, and a wardrobe against the far wall, all made from wood with blue and green highlights in scale patterns. The bed on the dais to their left had always been there, but now its posters were repaired and varnished, its covers and canopy new. In the wall next to it, a door stood ajar, revealing a corner of the bathing room. Everything was clean, fresh, and devoid of ornamentation.
One unexpected touch softened the decor; across the room, a curtain made from strings of sparkling beads hung in an archway.
Vyrl squinted at the room. "'S not so good for a wedding night, is it? Solar told me this."
"Solar?" Kamoj asked.
"One of the housemaids." Vyrl led her to the beaded archway. "She said she'd prepare a place for you." He pulled back the beads, moving aside for her.
Kamoj stopped, both charmed and awkward with his offer to let her enter first. Deciding it would be ruder to refuse his courtesy than to precede him, she walked into the small room.
She saw the difference immediately. This room felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with temperature. Tapestries softened the walls and the delicate sunglass furniture sparkled. The shutters across the room were open, revealing a stained glass window with a rose in its center. To her right, a comforter lay on the floor, and posts rose from each of its corners, totems like those on her bed at home. Kamoj wondered why they put the bedding on the ground. Then she remembered. This chamber had been a second bathing room. Vyrl's people must have filled the small pool with mattresses for her bed.
"This is all for me?" she asked.
"Can't be for me," Vyrl said. "I'd break those chairs if I sat in
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