that matter.
But females are often foolishly fascinated by him. Don't let your curiosity lead you to try anything reckless or stupid."
If anything was needed to break the passionate spell of the red moonlight, that was it. Kalena's chin lifted with cool arrogance. Did this Houseless bastard think he could give lectures on behavior to a daughter of a Great House? Even if she were only the farmer's daughter she pretended to be, he was still out of line.
"Remember that you are merely going to be playing the role of husband, Ridge. Don't let your sense of duty go to your head."
"The marriage might be contracted for only a short period of time," Ridge said evenly, "but it is very real while it lasts. Do not forget that, Kalena."
She ignored him, forcing herself to walk sedately along the rainstone path until she reached the shelter of the portico. There, hidden by the shadows of the graceful colonnade, she picked up the hem of her tunic and dashed for the safety of her apartment.
THREE
Ripples of brilliantly hued sarsilk floated through Kalena's fingers. She stared in delighted wonder at the array of fabrics spread before her. The collection of expensive sarsilk brought all the way from Antipodes was only a portion of what was available here on Weavers Street.
Today she had seen velvets in every color of the Spectrum, from fine lanti wool for winter cloaks and tunics to beautifully woven Risha cloth, a fabric made locally in town. Kalena had never had such an array and she was almost overwhelmed by the prospect of choosing her selection. But even more amazing to her was the knowledge that she wouldn't have to sew these garments herself. For the first time since she had been a child, someone else could be paid to make clothes for her. Kalena wanted to laugh at the small sense of freedom that fact gave her. Not that she minded sewing, but having someone else do it was so much more pleasant. Standing on the threshold of real freedom was a giddy experience.
"The tunics are no problem," remarked the shopkeeper, a strong-featured woman of middle years and extensive bargaining skill. "I can have those ready this afternoon. The riding clothes will be ready by tomorrow The trousers should be properly fitted for comfort, you understand."
Kalena nodded. She wanted the stylish new tunics as quickly as possible, but there was no great urgency about the riding outfit. After all, she had no intention of leaving on the contracted journey with Ridge. She had only ordered the riding clothes because Ridge was sure to ask if she had. Kalena had given much consideration to the matter of who should pay for the riding garments and the wedding cloak. Ridge expected to do so and she had finally convinced herself that there was nothing dishonorable in allowing him to pay the bills.
After all, once Quintel was dead, a journey to the Heights of Variance would be impossible until another trade baron had been approved by the Town Council. With its reason for existing in the first place gone, the marriage contract would, no doubt, by mutual agreement be cancelled. But Kalena could hardly explain to Ridge why the equipment and clothes for the journey were unnecessary, so she really had no choice but to let him pay for them.
Kalena was relieved by her decision. The issue might involve a fine point of honor, but for the daughter of a Great House, even the finest points were important. Nodding with satisfaction, she turned to the shopkeeper and said, "I will also need a wedding cloak."
The woman's eyes lit up with mercantile enthusiasm. This farmer's daughter did not appear to be wealthy, but even a woman from a farm town would want to spend as much as possible on a wedding cloak. With a little ingenuity it might be possible to coax this client into spending more than she had originally planned.
"But of course. I have several suitable fabrics in stock. The sarsilk is considered appropriate. Have you decided upon a color?"
It was the bride's right to
But females are often foolishly fascinated by him. Don't let your curiosity lead you to try anything reckless or stupid."
If anything was needed to break the passionate spell of the red moonlight, that was it. Kalena's chin lifted with cool arrogance. Did this Houseless bastard think he could give lectures on behavior to a daughter of a Great House? Even if she were only the farmer's daughter she pretended to be, he was still out of line.
"Remember that you are merely going to be playing the role of husband, Ridge. Don't let your sense of duty go to your head."
"The marriage might be contracted for only a short period of time," Ridge said evenly, "but it is very real while it lasts. Do not forget that, Kalena."
She ignored him, forcing herself to walk sedately along the rainstone path until she reached the shelter of the portico. There, hidden by the shadows of the graceful colonnade, she picked up the hem of her tunic and dashed for the safety of her apartment.
THREE
Ripples of brilliantly hued sarsilk floated through Kalena's fingers. She stared in delighted wonder at the array of fabrics spread before her. The collection of expensive sarsilk brought all the way from Antipodes was only a portion of what was available here on Weavers Street.
Today she had seen velvets in every color of the Spectrum, from fine lanti wool for winter cloaks and tunics to beautifully woven Risha cloth, a fabric made locally in town. Kalena had never had such an array and she was almost overwhelmed by the prospect of choosing her selection. But even more amazing to her was the knowledge that she wouldn't have to sew these garments herself. For the first time since she had been a child, someone else could be paid to make clothes for her. Kalena wanted to laugh at the small sense of freedom that fact gave her. Not that she minded sewing, but having someone else do it was so much more pleasant. Standing on the threshold of real freedom was a giddy experience.
"The tunics are no problem," remarked the shopkeeper, a strong-featured woman of middle years and extensive bargaining skill. "I can have those ready this afternoon. The riding clothes will be ready by tomorrow The trousers should be properly fitted for comfort, you understand."
Kalena nodded. She wanted the stylish new tunics as quickly as possible, but there was no great urgency about the riding outfit. After all, she had no intention of leaving on the contracted journey with Ridge. She had only ordered the riding clothes because Ridge was sure to ask if she had. Kalena had given much consideration to the matter of who should pay for the riding garments and the wedding cloak. Ridge expected to do so and she had finally convinced herself that there was nothing dishonorable in allowing him to pay the bills.
After all, once Quintel was dead, a journey to the Heights of Variance would be impossible until another trade baron had been approved by the Town Council. With its reason for existing in the first place gone, the marriage contract would, no doubt, by mutual agreement be cancelled. But Kalena could hardly explain to Ridge why the equipment and clothes for the journey were unnecessary, so she really had no choice but to let him pay for them.
Kalena was relieved by her decision. The issue might involve a fine point of honor, but for the daughter of a Great House, even the finest points were important. Nodding with satisfaction, she turned to the shopkeeper and said, "I will also need a wedding cloak."
The woman's eyes lit up with mercantile enthusiasm. This farmer's daughter did not appear to be wealthy, but even a woman from a farm town would want to spend as much as possible on a wedding cloak. With a little ingenuity it might be possible to coax this client into spending more than she had originally planned.
"But of course. I have several suitable fabrics in stock. The sarsilk is considered appropriate. Have you decided upon a color?"
It was the bride's right to
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