Page 49 of Fated Flames: Volume Two
I nearly leap at her. “You’ve been there?”
She nods. “Several times. I’m a mariner’s daughter. Grew up working on a merchant’s ship. Vasnan lacemakers make the most beautiful lace on or off the continent.”
A surge of pride wells up in me. “I’ll have to show you the dress I wore to the feast then. I think it’s their finest work.”
“I would love that.”
We thread our way around a few more tents before the way opens upon my own. I breathe a sigh of relief. This has been a long day, and I’m ready to burrow beneath the pile of blankets and furs on my bed and sleep.
Will Soren join me this time?
“By the way,” Marta says, gesturing at my neck, “your mating stone is stunning. I’ve never seen a stone so large.”
I stumble over my own two feet.
“Mywhat?”
19
Rally’s wife looks back at me, all innocence. “Your mating stone,” she says again, and not quietly at all.
I throw a panicked look over my shoulder, praying my guards weren’t close enough to hear. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her forehead creases at me as if I’m being daft. “Your sapphire?” She points at the starburst around my neck.
“My…sapphire…?”
“Yes,” she says slowly. “At that size, I can’t imagine it could be anything but a mating stone, right?”
I suddenly feel a bit dizzy.
“Oh, Marta,” I laugh, snatching up her arm in mine, “I had no idea you were so funny. Come inside for a moment and share some tea with me.”
I rush her into the tent like there’s fire at my heels.
Inside, I hold the necklace out to brandish the gem at her. “Is that what this is? Is that what they—the dragons—is that what they call this?”
Marta blinks back at me. “Of course.”
“And its meaning?” I demand, wagging the thing at her.
Her head cants to the side. “That you’re claimed.”
Claimed? “As in betrothed?”
“I suppose.”
I relax a bit. Betrothal bracelets are exchanged in Vasna. Rings are common in Silesh. This pendant isn’t so different after all.
“Except…” Marta begins, and at the quick snap of my head toward her, she grimaces.
“Except what?”
Now she, too, glances toward the tent entrance and my guards outside. “Has no one talked to you about this, Your Highness?”
I groan inside. That “highness” bears all the weight of unpleasant news. “Well, a minister was sent to instruct me…”
She nods and guides us toward a pile of floor cushions. “Abely. I heard.”
