For a moment she thought he might talk to her but he rolled away, his back to her, and went to sleep. In the morning he got out of bed and left without a word.
So now she was waiting for him to return from the training field for supper. At dinner he’d eaten with his men, leaving Liana alone with her ladies and Zared. It had been a lonely meal.
Liana dressed carefully to go downstairs. It never hurt to look your best when you were with a man.
When she entered the Lord’s Chamber, the air was heavy with silence. Zared, Severn, and Rogan were already seated and eating, none of them speaking. Liana had already guessed that Rogan’s anger had something to do with his brother, but she had no idea what had caused it. She could have asked Zared, but she wanted Rogan to tell her what had happened.
She seated herself to Rogan’s left and began to eat after she was served. She searched for some topic of conversation. “Did Baudoin arrive today?” she asked.
It didn’t seem possible, but the silence increased. When the two older men said nothing, she looked at Zared.
“Not a bad fighter,” Zared said. “But then our father always bred good men.”
“He’s not our brother,” Severn snapped.
Zared’s eyes flashed. “He’s as much my brother as you are.”
“I’ll teach you who’s a Peregrine and who isn’t,” Severn said.
All three of them were on their feet at once, Severn going for Zared’s throat, Rogan going for Severn.
This scene was halted in mid-action by the arrival of a woman. Liana looked under the arch that was formed by Severn’s hands around Zared’s throat, and her eyes opened wide in astonishment. Standing in the doorway was the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. No, not just beautiful: perfect, flawless, a standard of beauty for all time. She was swathed in cloth of gold so that she was radiant, like a pillar of sunshine on a dark night.
“I see that nothing has changed,” said the woman. Her voice was cool and arresting and at once made everyone feel calmer. She walked forward, as gracefully as an angel, floating, yards of fur-trimmed cloth trailing behind her. “Severn,” she said, and looked at him as a mother might look at a disobedient child.
Severn immediately dropped his hands and looked a bit sheepish. Then, obediently, he pulled out a chair for her. When she was seated, she looked up at the three Peregrines who
were still standing. “You may sit,” she said, as a queen might give an order.
Liana couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. She was what every woman hoped to look like. She was so lovely, so elegant, so graceful—and best of all, she had men jumping to do her bidding.
“Io, you have honored us,” Rogan said. “Why?”
There was no mistaking the hostility in Rogan’s voice, and when Liana looked at him, she saw what was almost a sneer on his lips. That sneer pleased her very much.
“I came to meet your wife,” the woman said.
Liana almost asked, Me? but she caught herself. Then she drew her breath in sharply. If Rogan forgot her name again in front of this beautiful woman, she just might fall dead on the spot.
“Liane, Iolanthe,” Rogan said, and went back to eating.
Close enough, Liana thought and wondered if the blacksmith could make a brand of her name and sear it on Rogan’s forearm, where he could see it when he forgot.
“Hello,” Liana said. What was she to say to this woman? “Did you buy your dress fabric in London?”
“France. My husband is French.”
“Oh.” She gave the woman a weak smile.
The meal went downhill after that. Rogan didn’t speak; Severn didn’t speak. Zared seemed as intimidated by the woman as Liana felt. Only Iolanthe seemed comfortable. Three of her own women stood behind her and served her food on gold plates. She didn’t say anything but watched the others with curiosity—especially Liana, who grew so nervous she couldn’t eat her soup.
At long last, Iolanthe rose to leave and Liana felt her shoulders relax in relief. “She is very beautiful,” she said to Severn.
Severn, nose in his soup bowl, merely grunted.
“Isn’t her husband a little concerned about her living here with you?”
Severn turned eyes of hatred on her. “You may interfere in other people’s business, but not in mine. Io is my business, not yours.”