Dragon Rose(34)

His was not the only painting that occupied my time, of course. I dutifully painted the triptych of autumn ivy leaves I’d already planned, working quickly before the subjects of the paintings fell quite away from their vines. I tried to amuse myself with doing watercolor sketches of various members of the household; Melynne quite blushed when I gave her the one I had done of her, while Sar only shook her head and attempted not to look pleased.

“And have you nothing better to do with your time than this?” she asked, although I thought she was rather tickled by the small portrait I had done of her.

At the time I had only shrugged, but truly, I really did have nothing better to do with my time…





And then autumn was truly upon us, the dark hours colder and colder. A fire burned in my chamber night and day, and the gowns Melynne or Sar laid out for me were no longer silk and linen but wool and velvet. Frost shimmered in the dead grass, and I saw storm clouds gathering on the mountaintops to the north. Winter was not here yet, but it threatened. That was the way of things in our part of the world, the summers glorious but too brief, autumn a burst of color remembered before the long dark nights came upon us and the snows wrapped everything in their solitude.

A fire was lit in the great dining chamber where Theran and I took our evening meals, although it did not seem to help all that much, being situated at the far end of the room from the dining table. I wished I had the courage to wear a cloak to dinner, but the one time I had mentioned it, Sar gave me such a scandalized look that I promptly abandoned the notion.

Still, I couldn’t help rubbing my hands against the chill as I sat there one night at the end of Octevre, and hoping that the first course would be a bowl of warm soup so I could wrap my fingers around it.

“You are cold?” Theran asked.

At once I put my traitor hands in my lap. “Not at all, my lord.”

“Rhianne.”

I knew that note in his voice. Lifting my shoulders, I said, “This chamber is rather chilly, yes. I’ll admit that it is beautiful, but consider me duly impressed. Do you not have someplace a little cozier where we may eat?”

A pause. “There is…a smallish room in my own suite where I have sometimes supped alone. It does have quite a pleasant hearth. Would that suit you better?”

“Oh, yes,” I replied at once. Whether my alacrity was spurred merely by the thought of eating my dinner in more comfortable surroundings, or whether it was inspired by my curiosity to see his chambers, hardly mattered. Of far greater importance was the fact that he seemed concerned for my comfort…and was not adverse to having me join him in a part of the castle that had been hitherto off-limits to me.

“Can you hold on for one more night? For I think Sar might be rather discommoded if we asked her to serve elsewhere this evening with no notice.”

“Of course, Theran,” I said, and let him go on to discuss the first touches of snow that had begun to decorate the mountaintops to the north. Inwardly, though, I found myself only wishing for an end to the evening and to the day that followed, so I might finally see his chambers for myself.





What I had expected of those rooms, I hardly knew, but what greeted me there was certainly not any of the rather confused visions that had crowded my mind’s eye. True, his suite was large, much larger than my own, with a great room twice the size of my sitting chamber, and a small eating area, a study, and a library offering tantalizing glimpses through each of their respective doorways. The door to the far left was shut; I imagined it must be what led into his sleeping quarters.

The furnishings were heavy and ornate, the upholstery rich wool velvet, but what surprised me more was that every tabletop was covered with small but intricate contraptions whose purpose I couldn’t begin to identify. Like me, he had a large worktable, this one located in an expansive alcove with windows that looked to the north and west. On the table were all sorts of tools, small hammers and picks and other instruments I didn’t recognize.

Theran stood to one side, watching me as I entered. He said no word as I moved through the room and went almost without thinking to the worktable so I could inspect the half-finished device there more closely.

“You made all these?” I asked. I knew better than to reach out and touch the delicate object, but I cocked my head to one side so I could see underneath just a little, get a closer look at the tiny gears and wheels and what looked like small glittering jewels.

“Yes,” he said, crossing the room himself so he could be by my side. Not too close, of course; no risk of those robes brushing against me this time. But still, I found myself very aware of his presence.

Again I had to tell myself not to touch, not to disturb the tiny components. “What are they for?”

“Oh, various things. I must confess that half of them do nothing at all, save to move and make a pretty distraction for the eyes. See here.” And he stepped away from me, going to a handsome sideboard carved with the shapes of running deer, and touched one tall, slender device. At once it whirred into motion, its tiny golden vanes shimmering in the light, moving in a complicated yet delicate dance.

I clapped my hands together. “It’s beautiful!”

“Thank you.” He extended his gloved finger again, and the movement stopped. “It is something to while away the hours. Sar chides me sometimes for using up so many candles, but—”