“Perhaps he believes he knows what your answer will be.”
Alanna put her combs away. “I’d better talk to him.” She slipped beneath the rope that enclosed the horses, and glanced up at Halef Seif. “No one is to ready Moonlight for a journey until I say so.” She strode off, telling herself that Jonathan was tired, and had probably forgotten to ask her if she planned to go with him when he left today. For that matter, she remembered, he hadn’t even mentioned he was leaving.
Relax, her sensible self remarked as she entered the Prince’s tent. Becoming the Voice would probably drive less important matters from his head—and he dare not stay here much longer.
Jonathan was conferring with Myles and Coram. Already a boy from the tribe was packing his things. The Prince smiled at her. “My love, I’ve instructed Kara and Kourrem to pack for you,” he announced. “If we leave after twilight, we should have several hours of cool riding—”
“May I speak with you alone, Jonathan? I know Coram and Myles will excuse us.”
Seeing the scowl on her face, Coram needed no further urging. He left. Myles looked from Alanna to Jon, plainly worried. “It’s all right, Myles,” the Prince assured him. “We’ll be ready in an hour or so.”
Myles stopped beside Alanna. “Don’t say anything you might regret,” he cautioned.
“I won’t.” Alanna gripped the ember-stone at her throat, telling herself that what she had just heard was rooted in a simple misunderstanding, one that would be made right. Myles sighed and walked out, closing the tent flap behind him.
“You didn’t mention you were planning to leave today.” In making an effort to keep her temper, Alanna sounded clipped and terse.
“I thought you knew.” Jonathan was rolling up a map, not looking at her. “If I had been with anyone but Myles, my parents would have torn up the countryside looking for me by now. I must get back.”
“I did not say I was returning with you, and you didn’t ask me before you ordered people to do my packing.”
“I assumed we’d begin preparations for the wedding. I didn’t think you would want to wait.”
“I haven’t told you yes,” Alanna reminded him, her voice tense.
He looked at her, startled. “But—I know how you feel about me.”
“Being married to you is a great responsibility. I need more time to think about it.”
“More time!” He’s actually amused, Alanna thought, her anger mounting. “Be serious. After all these years, I’d think your answer is plain.”
She had clenched her jaw so tightly it hurt to open it. “Not to me.”
Jonathan slapped the rolled-up parchment onto the table, his patience nearing an end. “Stop it, Alanna. I’ve made enough allowance for maidenly shyness from you—”
“Maidenly shyness!” she yelled. “Since when have I shown maidenly shyness!”
“Keep your voice down!” he snapped. “Do you want the whole tribe to hear? What’s gotten into you, anyway? I thought it was all settled.”
“I said I wanted time to think!” Although her voice was quieter, her snapping violet eyes revealed her undiminished fury.
Jonathan’s smile was full of masculine superiority. “That’s what all women say when a man proposes.”
“Do they indeed?” Alanna snapped. “And you’re such an expert on marriage proposals, I suppose!”
“As much as you are,” he snapped back.
“When I say I want time to think, I want time to think!”
Jonathan sighed wearily. “All right, you’ve had time to think. What’s your answer?”
“That I need more time to think!”
Jon stared at her for a moment, color mounting into his cheeks. “This is ridiculous!” he cried. “All right, I should’ve remembered you don’t like people making plans without your say-so, but I thought everything was settled—”
“It isn’t! How dare you take my acceptance for granted?”
“Well, you certainly didn’t give me a reason to believe you’d refuse, did you?” he demanded, his hands clenched with anger. “Think carefully before you annoy me further, Alanna of Trebond! There are women who would do anything to marry me—”
“Then why didn’t you ask one of them?” Alanna said. “You know what your problem is, Jonathan? You’ve been spoiled by all those fine Court ladies. It never entered your mind that I might say no!”
“And who would you take instead of me, O Woman Who Rides Like a Man?” he demanded. “I suppose George Cooper’s more to your taste—”
“George!” she gasped, surprised at his new angle of attack.
“Do you think I’m blind? I’ve seen the way he looks at you!”
“What about all those women at the palace and the way they look at you?“ Alanna demanded. “And I know you’ve had affairs with some of them! They’ve made you into a conceited—”
“At least they’re women, Lady Alanna!” he said. “And they know how to act like women!”