Turning back to look at him, Saetan said dryly, “Because I’m your father.” He gestured toward the eyrie’s open front door. “Why don’t we give the ladies a few more minutes while we take care of the rest?”

The rest? Lucivar wondered as he followed his father into the eyrie. “The rest of what?”

“The furniture.”

“What furniture?”

Saetan just looked at him, his expression equal parts pity and amused irritation. “What, exactly, did you ask your sister to do?”

Lucivar resisted the urge to squirm. “Get Marian out of Ebon Rih for two days.”

“And Jaenelle was to accomplish this by . . . ?”

He didn’t know where this was leading, but he was certain he wasn’t going to like it. He shrugged, trying to find the arrogance that came naturally to an Eyrien male. That he couldn’t quite find it while his father stared at him worried him. A lot. But he finally remembered what he’d told Jaenelle when she’d asked him what excuse she should use for commanding Marian’s time for two days. “I told her to buy a carpet or a piece of furniture, something that would interest a hearth witch.”

“A carpet,” Saetan said slowly. “A piece of furniture. I see.” He sighed and raised his hand.

The room was suddenly filled with furniture, with barely enough room between the pieces for someone to squeeze by.

Lucivar stared. “What is this?”

“The furniture your sister purchased on your behalf. At your request.”

“But—”

“I’ll put the dining table and chairs in the dining room,” Saetan said, walking down the narrow corridor he’d left open.

“Table? Chairs?” Lucivar hurried after his father. By the time he reached the room, a table and eight chairs were tucked against one wall.

Saetan frowned. “Probably best to leave the carpets in here, too.”

“Carpets?”

A stack of rolled carpets appeared, filling half the room.

The prick of disappointment surprised him. While he’d had no real desire to endure the miserable task of looking at furniture, he’d wanted to buy his own so that the eyrie would feel like a home that reflected who he was instead of living in a place someone else had created. Not that he actually knew how to achieve that, but still . . .

“You did want to choose for yourself, didn’t you?” Saetan asked with too much understanding.

Lucivar shrugged. Jaenelle had spent the past two days doing this for him—and had dragged Saetan into it as well—so he would never say anything that would dim her pleasure.

“If it helps at all,” Saetan said, “Marian selected most of it, and what she didn’t select herself wasn’t purchased without her approval. With one exception.”

The prick of disappointment changed into a hum of interest as Lucivar returned to the front room and studied the furniture more carefully.