Fire - Kristin Cashore [148]
‘My guard is another matter we need to discuss,’ Fire murmured. ‘I must have solitude, Brigan, and it must be when I choose it, not when you do.’
Distracted, Brigan took a moment to respond. ‘You’ve borne your guard patiently.’
‘Yes, well, I agree I do need them much of the time, especially if I’m to stand so close to the crown. And I trust them, Brigan - I’d go so far as to say I have love for some of them. But—’
‘You need to be alone sometimes.’
‘Yes.’
‘And I’ve also promised you not to wander alone.’
‘We must both promise each other,’ Fire said, ‘that we’ll be thoughtful on the question, and answer it for ourselves on a case by case basis, and try not to take undue risks.’
‘Yes, all right,’ Brigan said. ‘I’ll concede this point.’
It was a piece in the structure of the ongoing conversation they had been having since the end of the war, about what it meant for them to be together.
‘Could the kingdom ever bear me as its queen, Brigan?’
‘Love, I’m not king. Nash is well out of danger.’
‘But it could happen someday.’
He sighed. ‘Yes. Well, then. We must consider it seriously.’
In the starlight she could just make out the towers of the bridge that men were building over the rush of the Winged River. In the daylight she watched them now and then, hanging from their ropes, balancing on scaffolding that barely seemed strong enough to withstand the current. She lost her breath every time one of them leapt over empty space.
THE ARRANGEMENTS AT the green house had become slightly peculiar, for Roen had decided to take the house back from Brigan and give it to Fire.
‘I can understand you taking it from Brigan, if that’s your pleasure,’ Fire said, standing in the small green kitchen, having this argument with Roen for the third or fourth time. ‘You’re the queen, and it’s the queen’s house, and whatever Brigan may accomplish, he’s highly unlikely ever to be queen. But Nash will have a queen someday, Roen, and the house by rights should be hers.’
‘We’ll build her something else,’ Roen said with a careless sweep of her arm.
‘This is the queen’s house,’ Fire repeated.
‘It’s my house,’ Roen said. ‘I built it, and I can give it to whomever I want, and I don’t know anyone who needs a peaceful retreat from the court more than you do, Fire—’
‘I have a retreat. I have a house of my own in the north.’
‘Three weeks away,’ Roen snorted, ‘and miserable half the year. Fire. If you’re to stay at court then I want you to have this house, for your own daily retreat. Take Brigandell and Hannadell in if you like, or send them out on their ears.’
‘Whatever woman Nash marries is already going to resent me enough—’
Roen spoke over her. ‘You are queenly, Fire, whether you see it or not. And you’d be spending most of your time here anyway if I left the house to Brigan; and I’m through with arguing. Besides, it matches your eyes.’
This last was preposterous enough to render Fire speechless, and it didn’t help that Tess, kneading dough at the table, nodded her head smartly and added, ‘And the flowers are all in reds and golds and pinks, Lady Granddaughter, in case you hadn’t noticed, and you’ve seen the big tree go all red in autumn.’
‘Naxdell tried to steal that tree, twice,’ Roen said, careening happily off topic. ‘He wanted it in his own courtyard. He set the gardeners to digging it up, but where the limbs touch the ground they take root, and it was an impossible job. And mad. How did he think he was ever going to get it into the palace - through the roofs? Nax and Cansrel could never lay eyes on a beautiful thing without needing to possess it.’
Fire gave up. The arrangement was not orderly, but the truth was that she loved the little green house, its garden, and its tree, and she wanted to live there, and she didn’t want anyone who already lived there to leave. It didn’t matter who owned it and who had taken in whom. It was a bit like the dappled grey horse, who, being