Still, there was merit to the Riddler’s idea, and a plan had come to her in the night, like a dream, like the voice of Sa-vankala himself guiding her. She opened her eyes, glanced at the sun thoughtfully, and resumed her combing.
Things had not gone well between her and Kadakithis lately, and Chenaya knew she had caused the breach by returning her cousin’s missing wife to Sanctuary. It hadn’t been a charitable act, by any means; she’d done it to prevent a marriage between him and the Beysib Shupansea. Despite a Rankan law forbidding divorce among the royal family, Kadakithis clearly intended to announce his betrothal to the Beysa at summer’s end.
Chenaya set the comb in her lap and leaned back. Unless she made some effort the breach might never heal. She couldn’t bear to have her Little Prince angry with her, and she resolved to face the fact that she might even have to make peace with the fish-eyed bitch he wanted to marry.
Tempus, bless his inadequate little self, had handed her the means to do so. She stared upward at the sun and uttered a hasty prayer: Thank you. Bright Father, thank you for filling the world with such an abundance of fools.
She smiled yet again, rose, and began to dress. It was going to be a good day, full of events sure to entertain her.
The door to her quarters opened without so much as a knock to announce her visitor. The dark-haired beauty who strode toward her wore a sullen look and the garments of a Rankan gladiator. Sandalled heels clicked smartly on the un carpeted floor stones. She gave Chenaya a look of disapproval. Then, all the starch went out of the young woman; her shoulders sagged; she sighed, fell backward with great drama, and sprawled on the bed. “Up at the crack of dawn, you’ve told me a score of times, and out on the practice field ready to work.”