Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [105]
"Your grace!" Appalled, I turned to Roxanne de Mereliot, dropping into a deep curtsy and holding it, my head lowered.
"Comtesse de Montrève, be welcome to Marsilikos," her voice said above me, rich with amusement. "And please, do rise."
I did, reluctantly meeting her gaze. No longer young, the Lady of Marsilikos retained an abundant beauty, deepened with the passage of years. Her coal-black hair was streaked with white, her generous mouth smiled easily, and kindness and wisdom lit her dark eyes. "Your grace," I said. "Pray forgive my rudeness."
"Rudeness?" She gave her warm smile. " 'Twould have spoiled my surprise if you'd acted otherwise! I miss my own children, who pursue their studies in Tiberium and Siovale. Spontaneity is the province of youth; indulge me my delight in it, young Phèdre."
Over her shoulder, I saw Remy and Ti-Philippe, grinning like idiots, while behind me, Fortun and Joscelin exchanged hearty greetings with Quintilius Rousse. I could not help but smile, too. "By all means, my lady," I said, and meant it.
That night in the Dome of the Lady, Roxanne de Mereliot held a feast for us. It was a closed affair, for it would not do to have it gossiped about Eisande that the Lady of Marsilikos had received me in state so soon on the heels of my disfavor at the Palace, but splendid nonetheless. I have a fondness for seafood, and Marsilikos is renowned for it. We ate course after course, all plucked fresh from the sea— mussels in their own salt juices, terrines of lobster, sea bream in ginger, filets of sole and salmon, whitefish in flaky pastry. I daresay nearly all of us ate until we were fair groaning; cuisine is reckoned one of the great arts in Terre d'Ange, and we would too soon be at the mercy of Caerdicci cookery.
Afterward, bowls of warmed water scented with orange blossom were brought round, and we dipped our fingers and wiped them on linen towels, and then sweet almond pastries were served, and a dessert wine from Beauviste that lingered on the tongue with a taste of melons and honey, and Roxanne de Mereliot bid her servants leave us until further notice.
"Ysandre has written to tell me what you are about, Phèdre," she said without preamble. "From her courier's haste, I thought to see you in Marsilikos some days past."
"My apologies, my lady," I replied. "I had other business to attend to." 'Twas not for lack of trust that I did not share with her and Rousse what had passed among the Unforgiven. In truth, I had learned naught of use to anyone, and I was uncomfortable enough with their regard to remain silent. To their credit, not a one of Phèdre's Boys even blinked.
"No matter." She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "Would that we'd had more time, is all. But I have taken the liberty of confirming your arrangements, and clearing their security through Admiral Rousse. The Darielle sails on the morrow, late afternoon; she'll be loading cargo all morn. Your shipment of lead has safely arrived, and your trunks as well. You've passage booked for five to La Serenissima." The Lady of Marsilikos frowned. "Would that there was ought else I could do, Phèdre."
" 'Tis but a sea voyage, my lady." I shrugged. "A thousand others have done the same, and a thousand shall after me."
"I have been on one of your sea voyages," Quintilius Rousse rumbled, "and scarce lived to tell the tale, child. I know better. Whatever else Delaunay taught you, he madeyou an apt compass for trouble. I'm minded to send an escort with you. Three ships, no more."
Joscelin, Remy, Ti-Philippe, Fortun—all looked at me, while I shook my head slowly. "No, my lord Admiral. I thank you; but no. If I'm to harbor any illusion in La Serenissima that I'm not Ysandre's creature, I can scarce arrive with an escort culled from the Royal Fleet."
"La Serenissima," Rousse said mildly, "fields a navy which is second to none, child; even to my own. They hold the entire length of the Caerdicci coast, aye, and Illyria too, with fingers stretching into Hellene waters, and eyes that