Kushiel's Avatar - Jacqueline Carey [300]
"You could have sent him back."
"Shall we play a game?" I asked softly, curling into a corner of the couch. "Yes, my lady, we could have. But it would have cost me a season's wait, while my friend Hyacinthe, my one true friend, descends slowly into madness. That's why I went, remember? That's why I accepted your bargain. And in the end, Imriel too had a part to play."
"You found what you sought."
I gazed at Melisande, feeling the Name of God present on the tipof my tongue, sounding in the throb of my blood. It was there, written in the immaculate geometry of her features, in the framework of bone and the flesh that sheathed it, a fearful beauty. "Yes," I said. "I did."
Never, never show your hand. It is the first law of barter, of games of skill. And it is not my strength, which lies in yielding. It was hard, so hard to wait, to hold her gaze. But I did, and it was Melisande who looked away first. "And now you will give my son to Ysandre," she murmured.
I took another sip of wine. "That, my lady, depends upon you."
Her eyes blazed, and the color rose in her cheeks. "What do you mean?"
"I will tell you," I said, "what I offer. And I will tell you what I require in return. I am willing, my lady, to adopt Imriel into mine own household. And as such . . ." My voice caught in my throat. "Ah, Melisande! I can't make him love you. You poisoned that well yourself, long before he was born. But I can promise that he will be left free to make his own choices, and I will not turn him against you, not wittingly. If you wish to correspond with him, I will see your missives delivered. Whether or not he reads them is up to him. One day, he may be willing to hear your story. If it is so, I will let him. I would allow him choice. That is what I offer."
"Ysandre would never permit it."
"She would," I said, "if I claimed it as the boon she owes me. I hold the Companion's Star, my lady. It was seen and witnessed by the flower of D'Angeline nobility. It is the one thing Ysandre cannot refuse."
Melisande studied me. "Why?"
I touched the hollow of my bare throat, where once her diamond had lain. "Why did you pay the price of my marque, so long ago? Why did you set me free?"
A distant smile flickered over her features. "To see what you would do."
"Even so." I nodded. "I would see what Imriel would do, what he would become, were he free to choose. After what he has endured, it is the least he deserves. But I have my own safety to consider, and that of those who are beholden to me."
"The Cassiline," Melisande said dryly.
"Among others," I said. "Yes, Joscelin first of all, but there are others. Ti-Philippe, my chevalier . . . you remember him, my lady? His comrades were slain on Prince Benedicte's orders. And there is Eugenie, my Mistress of the Household, and others, in Montrève . . . my seneschal, Purnell Friote and his wife Richeline, and others, too many to count. I am fond of your son, Melisande; passing fond. But while you plot against the throne, we are all in danger of being accused of conspiracy. I will not jeopardize them on his behalf. I require safeguards."
That was the lie, the bluff. I delivered it unblinking, and Melisande's gaze searched my face. "You said there was a price," she said at length.
It was all I could do to keep from sighing with relief.
"Two things," I said, holding up two fingers. "One: You will swear to me, in Kushiel's name, that you will do naught to jeopardize the lives of Ysandre de la Courcel and her daughters. Two: You will make no attempt to leave this place, but will live out your days in sanctuary, seeking only penitence and not worship."
Melisande laughed.
I waited.
"Ah, Phèdre!" Leaning forward, she brushed my cheek with her fingertips. Her touch stung like a lash, and I closed my eyes against it. "One," Melisande said tenderly, her voice redolent of smoke and honey. "Two conditions have you set me, Phèdre. Do you take my son, and raise him without teaching him to hate me more than he does now, I will grant you one. Only one. And the choosing of it is yours."