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.
‘Thisis the queen’s house,’ Fire repeated.
‘It’smy 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.
