She offered this comment delicately, with a downcast glance. Not by even a glance did she suggest explicitly, Just as it wasn’t your fault about your brother. But the implicit suggestion was clear, if subtle. The prince drew a breath, but Moonflower added, “It was hard, leaving my sisters. But we—we keiso, we say we are sisters, too, did you know? There are things—things here that I wouldn’t have wanted to miss.” And she looked up quickly to meet the prince’s eyes for an instant.
Prince Tepres leaned an elbow on the table, relaxing. “Tell me about your sisters,” he invited.
The supper stretched out about twice as long as was usual for such an engagement. Even then, Prince Tepres quite clearly had to compel himself to rise and bow and take his leave, and Moonflower was equally clearly sorry to see him go. The prince offered Bluefountain a plainly set sapphire ring for her company, appropriate but in no way remarkable. But he offered the younger keiso no jewel on his departure. Rather, with surprising diffidence, he opened out a cloth-wrapped parcel to show Moonflower a set of twin pipes of sea dragon ivory and gold. “I believe these pleased you the other evening,” he explained. “I thought you might like them, because of your tale of the sea dragon. The ivory makes me think of that.”
“Oh,” Moonflower breathed, touching the pipes with one tentative fingertip. “I do love them—but they’re so beautiful—are you sure you want to give them away?”
“Ah, well—it’s not such a generous gift. I don’t play pipes, you see, but I thought you might, as you are a keiso.” The prince tipped the pipes into her hand and gently folded her fingers closed around them. “You would please me very much if you would someday play them for me.”
“I don’t play pipes yet,” the girl replied earnestly. “But I will learn, so I can play these for you. I will have to learn to play very well, so I do not insult your beautiful gift.”
“Your touch, even inexperienced, will surely draw only beauty from them,” Prince Tepres assured her, and took his leave.
“Well, that was a resounding success,” Leilis said to Bluefountain later, after settling Moonflower back in the room she shared with Rue. Bluefountain, long secure in her own worth to Cloisonné House and to the flower world, found no threat in Moonflower’s swift rise. That was why Mother had sent her to accompany and chaperone the girl’s engagement: Narienneh was too wise to put the newest of her daughters in company that would resent her. Now Leilis helped Bluefountain unstring and put away her kinsana. “She’s exhausted. And thoroughly charmed. She has the kitten on the foot of her pallet, and the pipes next to her pillow.”
“They’re a matched pair. As much as those twin pipes. Ah, young love,” Bluefountain said nostalgically. She was rubbing a perfumed ointment into her fingertips, lest extended playing ruin the softness of her fingers. “She will be flying through the clouds in her dreams tonight, I’m sure.”
“It’s all quite genuine, you know.”
“Oh, I know! There’s not a stitch of cunning anywhere in that child, is there? Not that she’s foolish—”
“No. Just candidly charming,” agreed Leilis. “No wonder the heir is falling for her—how much candor do you suppose comes his way? Though I’m sure plenty of charm,” she added.
“Well, if she’s charmed you, Leilis, she may certainly warm the heart of a young man. You suppose his father—”
Leilis shrugged, honestly unable to guess. She wondered whether Bluefountain was right: Had she herself been charmed by the innocence of the girl? She supposed she had. It was a strange realization. Uncomfortable when Leilis thought about it, and yet not entirely unpleasant. She said merely, “That’s Mother’s task, to judge that.” Her tone was a little sharper than she had intended.
“Well, if the Dragon doesn’t care for the notion, Narienneh’s the one to work him around to it, if anyone can,” Bluefountain commented, unoffended by the sharpness. She yawned hugely, covering her mouth hastily as she took even herself by surprise. “Sorry! I’m not so young as I used to be.”
Leilis smothered a yawn of her own and withdrew, allowing the older woman to retire. Then she hesitated. Now that she was alone, weariness dragged at her as well. More than weariness. Jealousy, like bitter ashes on the tongue. That was merely foolish. There was nothing new about solitude. Leilis turned toward the stairs and her own small private chamber with its huge fireplace. The warmth of a fire would be welcome tonight. Since she could not personally curl herself around the warmth of a dawning—or burgeoning—or remembered, for that matter—rapport with a lover.