Temple of the Winds

"No, Mother Confessor," he said, when he straightened from his bow. "She seemed grateful that someone was taking in interest in her request. When I explained that there could be trouble about and we needed her to stay in her room, she promised to abide by my instructions." He glanced at the door. "She said that she didn't want to get me in 'hot water' and she would do as I asked."

"Thank you, captain." She paused before she opened the door. "If she comes out of this room without us, kill her. Don't stop to ask her any questions, and don't give her any warning, just have the archers take her down." When his brow twitched, she added, "If she leaves first, it will be because she has proven she commands magic and has killed us with it."

Captain Nance, his face gone as pale as year-old straw, clapped a fist to his heart in salute.

The outer sitting room was decorated in red. The walls were a dark crimson, adorned with white crown molding, pink marble baseboard and door casings, and a hardwood floor almost entirely covered with a huge, gold-fringed carpet embellished with an ornate leaf-and-flower motif. The gilded legs of the marble-topped table and of the red velvet, tufted chairs were carved with a matching leaf-and-flower design. Being an interior room, there were no windows. Cut-glass chimneys on the dozen reflector lamps around the room sent sparkles of light dancing across the walls.

To Kahlan's mind it was one of the least tasteful color schemes in the palace, but there were diplomats who specified this color room when requesting accommodations at the palace. They felt it put them in the right frame of mind for negotiations. Kahlan was always wary when hearing the arguments of representatives who had requested one of the red rooms.

Nadine wasn't in the extravagant outer room. The door to the bedroom was ajar.

"Delicious rooms." Cara whispered. 'Can I have them?"

Kahlan shushed her. She knew why the Mord-Sith would want a red room. With Cara peering over her shoulder, Kahlan cautiously pushed back the bedroom door. Cara's breath tickled her left ear.

If it was possible, the bedroom was more jarring to the senses than the sitting room, with the red theme carried into the carpets, embroidered bedcover, immoderate collection of ornate, gold-fringed crimson pillows, and the swirled, pink marble fireplace surround. Kahlan thought that if Cara was wearing her red leather and ever wanted to hide, she could simply sit in this room and no one would ever find her.

Only half the lamps in the bedroom were lit. Several blown-glass bowls set about on tables and the desk were filled with cried rose petals, their fragrance mingling with the lamp oil to permeate the air with a heavy, sickly-sweet odor.

When the hinges squeaked, the woman resting on the bed opened her eyes, saw Kahlan, and sprang to her feet. Ready to take Nadine with her Confessor's power if she gave the slightest indication of aggression, Kahlan unconsciously held an arm out to her side to keep Cara out of her way. In preparation, her muscles tight as coiled steel, Kahlan was holding her breath. If the woman conjured magic, Kahlan would have to be quick.

Nadine hastily knuckled the sleep from her eyes. By her indecision as to which foot to put forward in the awkward curtsy she performed. Kahlan knew that she was no noblewoman. But that didn't mean she couldn't be a Sister of the Dark.

Nadine gawked at Cara for an instant before smoothing down her dress at her shapely hips and addressing Kahlan. "Forgive me, Queen, but I've been on a long journey and I was taking a bit of a rest. Guess I must have fallen asleep; I didn't hear you knock. I'm Nadine Brighton, Queen."

As Nadine dipped into another inelegant curtsy, Kahlan quickly surveyed the room. The washbasin and ewer hadn't been used. The towels beside them on the washstand were clean and still folded. A simple, worn woolen travel bag sat at the foot of the bed. A clothesbrush and a tin cup were the only foreign objects on the overwrought, gilded table to the other side of a red velvet chair beside the fringed canopy bed. Despite the early spring chill and cold hearth, she hadn't pulled down the bedcovers for her nap. Perhaps, thought Kahlan, so as not to become tangled in them if she had to move fast.

Kahlan didn't apologize for entering without knocking. "Mother Confessor," she said in a cautious tone, feeling the need to make clear the tacit threat of the power she wielded. "Queen is one of my less. . common, titles. I am more widely known as the Mother Confessor."

As Nadine blushed, the sprinkling of freckles at the top of her cheekbones and across her delicate nose almost disappeared. Her large brown eyes turned to the floor with unease. She hastily ran her fingers through her thick brown hair, although it didn't look disheveled.