Jaenelle snorted. *Of course not. It’s hideous. I didn’t think I’d have to find so many things that wouldn’t suit before Marian jumped in.*

Saetan pressed a fist to his mouth and coughed to hide the chuckle. The man attending him wouldn’t understand his amusement. *I found a dining table.*

*A real one?*

*Yes, a real one.* He watched Marian as she opened the doors of a cabinet. Even from a distance, he could see her excitement, almost sense the longing as her fingers stroked the wood—and saw her shoulders slump as she turned away from it. *What is that, witch-child?*

*A sewing cabinet,* Jaenelle replied, still examining it. *There are shelves for cloth, little pegs for thread, bigger pegs for skeins of wool, all kinds of drawers to hold supplies.*

*And the asking price is something she can’t afford, even with the wages Lucivar is paying her.*

Jaenelle nodded, keeping one eye on Marian while she gently closed the cabinet doors.

*Are we adding it to our purchases, witch-child?*

She turned and smiled at him from across the large room. *Yes, we are.*

Prince SaDiablo had excellent taste, Marian decided as she looked at the table and chairs he’d chosen for the dining room. High Lord, she reminded herself. The men helping them with their purchases kept calling him High Lord, so she should address him that way, too.

“This is wonderful,” Marian said, stroking her hand over the gleaming, dark wood. Big enough to seat eight Eyriens, it would still fit easily into the dining room without feeling crowded if a storage hutch and narrow serving table were also added. Looking past the chosen table, she spotted a small pine table. “Oh, yes, that’s perfect.”

“Why is this perfect?” Jaenelle said, following her. “It’s not even finished.”

“That’s why it’s perfect,” Marian replied, giving the table a push to test its sturdiness. “Eyrien males need a worktable for cleaning and honing weapons, doing repairs, things like that. And there’s a small room in the eyrie that seems like it was designed to be a weapons room—a storage place for an extra bow, quivers of arrows. There’s even pegs already in one wall that would hold bladed sticks, so . . .” She shrugged.

“So you want a table that’s sturdy but is going to get rough treatment,” Jaenelle said.

“Exactly.” Marian smiled.

Jaenelle smiled back. “I’m sure it was a weapons room originally and had a similar table in it. Cousin Prothvar and Uncle Andulvar will be pleased with your choice. So will Lucivar.” She brushed a finger over the top of the table. “I noticed some of the other craftsmen are displaying bowls and vases. I’m going to take a look.”

“Fine,” Marian said. The room was turning slowly, making her feel light-headed.

Lucivar was a common name in Askavi, but Prothvar was rarely used anymore, and Andulvar . . .