CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH
Rosa's chambers were plush with velvet curtains, sheepskin rugs and tapestries. Dried aromatic leaves, scattered on the woven-reed matting, leant the air a heady power. In the outer room, where guests were received, a fire crackled and popped on the hearth. There was only one window in this room, though it was a singular piece of dazzling beauty, unique in all the fortress. It had been a gift from her father, years ago now. An expression in glass of his love for his favourite daughter: Gazing down upon everything with tranquil, impassive eyes, a prisoner in glass, an image of the Day Queen in blue knelt in the window, holding a rose. Whenever Rosa looked at it she remembered the timeless hours of youth. Sometimes it took only a momentary glance at the window to become once again a wide-eyed girl, wondering at that delicate tracery of colours and curves.
Tonight, Rosa stood once again below the window, tracing her eyes over the lead filigree, the subtle hues and the small smile on the goddess's face that seemed to hint at secrets unknown and untold.
After a span of some minutes of silence, Rosa spoke, talking to the image as if it could reply. "I have been betrayed. Betrayed by my sister. Betrayed by that ugly monster Snoro. Even betrayed by a rank, tangle-haired hunter. Betrayed by everyone. The Freer... it is obvious to me now. All those cunning words he worked to have me married to a rich prince and patron of the temples. Falsities. Lies. Deceits. It was all a ruse to have me cast out and sent leagues away. Away from the Veld, my home, all those I love... He knew. He must have known all along. How many others know?"
"Rosa. You make no sense."
She turned about slowly but looked at him with firm, unflinching eyes that softened just slightly at his sight. "Sigurd. I am sorry. I forget myself, forget my company and rant in anger. You are the last thing in the world I care for. You are the last thing I love that has not turned against me."
"You don't know that Lilia poisoned your father." He checked himself and said, "Eorl Fainvant. I... I... know we have suspected her in secret, but it is so cold. Too cold, surely, even for her. There is too little to gain."
"Sigurd?" There was disbelief in her voice.
"No, Rosa I mean only that--"
"Is this is how it is to be?" She pointed at the door, "Then leave."
"Rosa..."
"Leave."
He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "I... very well."
She turned to gaze again at the stained glass goddess, and only knew Sigurd left by the soft footfalls, the creak of the door, and the latch clicking into place. Through the window, she could see, just faintly, the stormy light of afternoon fading moment-by-moment into shadowed dusk. The howling of the skies and the flicker of distant lightning promised that the storm would continue, and perhaps grow all the worse, perhaps shake the very roots of the Toren Vaunt.
So Kveldulf goes to hunt Snoro? She thought. What if the hunchback spills his secrets before Kveldulf spills the dwarf's guts?
"Betrayed." The word echoed through the dark places of her mind. "Betrayed by them both, then."