over, “but that would be true no matter who I chose. If I picked a Silversword, the Emmarasks would be angry. If I picked an Emmarask, the Truesilvers would disapprove. If I picked a Truesilver, the Hawklins would gossip, and anyone I choose will be a slight to the Marliirs. In the end, I can only follow my heart and take the man I desire, one I know to be honest, loyal, and trustworthy-and that man, Rowen, is you.”
“Even if it costs you the crown?” he asked. “And though it does not, even if it costs you the loyalty of the great nobles?”
Tanalasta shrugged. “You are only one of the choices I have made that may cost me the throne-but they are my choices to make, and I am happy to live with the consequences.” She gave him a steady gaze. “If the crown is to rest on my head, having the strength of your character at my side will far outweigh the loss of a noble family’s shifting loyalties.”
Rowen considered this for a moment, then asked, “But how many of those families can one man be worth?” He shook his head. “Surely, not even half of them. It is well and good for a royal to make her own choices, but she must not be blind to the trouble that follows. People will think of me as no better than Aunadar Bleth, taking advantage of your good nature to restore my family’s standing-and the crown will be the weaker for it.”
“Is your opinion of me that low?” Tanalasta demanded. “Do you assume people think me capable of attracting only frauds and sycophants?”
Rowen’s face went white. “That’s not what I mean to-“
“What else could you mean? Perhaps it’s just as well we haven’t pursued this further.” Tanalasta pointed toward the horizon. “There is the gulch, Rowen. Go and see if it has any water for us.”
The mare neighed three sharp times and scraped at the ground, nearly crushing Vangerdahast’s foot when one of her hooves caught him across the instep. He cursed and jerked on the reins, forcing her head down below the height of his chest.
Owden Foley raised a restraining hand. “Gently, my friend. She has been through a lot.”
“And she will go through a lot more, if she doesn’t start making sense,” Vangerdahast growled. “Tell her that.”
Owden scowled his disapproval. “I don’t think-“
“Tell her,” Vangerdahast ordered. “Perhaps it will clear her thoughts.”
Owden sighed, but turned back to the horse and began to neigh and nicker. The horse’s ears flattened, and she fixed a single round eye on Vangerdahast’s face.
He narrowed his own eyes and raised his lip in a snarl. The mare looked away and began a quick succession of nickers, punctuated every now and then by a sharp whinny or a neighed question from Owden. When the conversation finally ended, Owden nodded and patted the beast’s neck reassuringly.
“Well?” Vangerdahast demanded.
“I coaxed a little more out of her, but horses don’t remember the same way we do.” Owden took the reins from Vangerdahast’s hands. “All she can tell us is that the ghazneths have been hunting her since ‘the dawn before the dawn.’”
“And?” Vangerdahast glared at the priest.
Owden slipped between him and the mare. “And that the princess is gone with ‘her stallion.’”
“Her stallion?” Vangerdahast fumed. “What, exactly, does she mean by that?”
The ‘gulch’ turned out to be a winding riverbed filled with more willows than water, but there was a tiny ribbon of creek meandering along beneath the bluffs on the far side, and Tanalasta could hear the horses sloshing through its silty currents, doing their best to slurp the rivulet dry. She was kneeling atop a slender tongue of high ground, churning a pile of rotting leaves into a small plot of dirt she was preparing for a faith planting. Though dead-tired from the day’s walk, the work kept her mind off Rowen, and it was well worth the effort to slow her whirling thoughts.
The princess was more disappointed in him than angry. She knew better than anyone what people thought of her. Many nobles-perhaps most-would accuse Rowen of taking advantage of her gullible nature. But they would think the same no matter who she chose. The only way to change their minds was to be patient and prove them wrong through good conduct, her own and that of her chosen. She was hurt not because Rowen had pointed out how people would perceive their relationship, but because he lacked faith in her to change their minds. If he did not trust her to succeed, how could she trust herself?
Tanalasta pulled a fist-sized stone from the ground and turned to set it aside at the edge of her plot, where she found a pair of soft-leathered ranger boots standing beside her. Biting back a cry of surprise, she placed the stone with the others, then spoke without looking up.
“Come to tell me I mustn’t think poorly of you?” Tanalasta crumpled a handful of decaying leaves between her hands, sprinkling them over the surface of her plot. “Or have you decided to chase that holding after all?”
“I suppose I deserve that.” Rowen kneeled beside her and began to work a handful of leaves into humus. “The truth is, I’ve come to apologize. I spoke like a narrow-minded popinjay.”
“I hope you don’t expect me to disagree.”
“No. When I said those things, I was being a coward. I was thinking only of myself-of how your favor would affect my reputation.”
“You said you were thinking of the crown,” Tanalasta reminded him.
Rowen shrugged. “Perhaps I was thinking of both-or perhaps I was not thinking at all. Either way, I was wrong. It is not my place to decide what is best for the crown. I pray you can forgive me.”
Tanalasta sank her fingers into the dirt, turning it over and churning the leaf-humus into the soil. As honest and humble as Rowen’s apology was, it did little to quell her anger. He had said nothing about having faith in her ability to win her subjects’ confidence, and what future could she have with a man who did not believe in her?
“Thank you for clarifying matters, Rowen.” Tanalasta’s voice was sarcastic. “I was afraid that in making a fool of myself, I had also conveyed to you the duties of my station.”
“Now you are twisting my words, Princess.” Rowen’s face was growing stormy. “I came here to say I agree with you. Why do you refuse to listen?”
“I have been listening.” Tanalasta started to suggest she had not liked what she heard, then thought better of such an acid remark and shook her head. “I don’t see the point in continuing this, Rowen. Maybe you should leave.”
Rowen stared at her in disbelief for a long time, then dumped the humus in his hands and stood. “If you wish.”
“It…” Recalling that dawn tomorrow would probably be the last time she ever saw him, Tanalasta almost said it wasn’t what she wanted-but what good would that do? He still didn’t believe in her. She summoned her resolve and said, “It is.”
Rowen turned to leave, then suddenly stopped. “No.”
More confused than upset, Tanalasta looked up. “No?”
The scout spun on his heel and pulled her to her feet. “The point, Tanalasta, is this.”
He kissed her hard, folding her into his arms so tightly that he lifted her off the ground. The princess was too astonished to be outraged. She had been imagining a moment like this almost since she met Rowen, and he chose now to take matters into his own hands? His timing was typically, wretchedly male-yet Tanalasta’s body responded just as fiercely as it had at the goblin keep. A sensation of joyous yearning shot through her from lips to loins, and she wondered how such a powerful feeling could be anything but a portent from the goddess. Before she knew it, her hands were at his waist, pulling him closer, and a feeling of sacred warmth flowed down through her body, dispelling her anger and draining her resolve. She longed to embrace the moment, to run her hands over his body and kindle their passion into full flame, but she could not release herself to carnal abandon yet-not while her mind remained so at odds with her heart.
Tanalasta slipped a hand between them and pushed against Rowen’s chest. The ranger kissed her more deeply, running one hand up to her breast and filling her with waves of seething pleasure. She closed her eyes for a single heartbeat, then bit his lip-a little harder than necessary to make him stop-and managed to push him away.
“Rowen!” Tanalasta’s voice had more passion and less anger in it than she would have liked. She gulped down a breath, then gasped, “What was the meaning of that?”
“I think you know.” Rowen touched a finger to his bleeding lip, then gave her a lean and hungry look. “I wasn’t thinking of the crown princess, but of the woman I’ve come to know and love.”
