Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [14]
"Then your question is answered." The priestess took her hand away, calm and undisturbed; I nearly fell yearning against her, but kept myself steady. "And I will pose mine again. Is it your wish to be rededicated unto the Service of Naamah?"
"Yes." I said it strongly this time, and stooped to open the birdcage. I took the trembling dove in my hands and straightened. "It is."
The acolytes stumbled against one another in confusion, then one bearing a basin of water came forward to offer theaspergillum to the priestess. I stood, the dove's quick-beating heart racing against my palms, as she flicked a few drops of water over me. "By Naamah's sacred river, I baptize you into her service." So I had stood, scarce more than a child, while Delaunay and Alcuin waited proudly behind me. No one awaited me now. I opened my mouth obediently for the portion of honey-cake, the sip of wine. Sweetness and desire. Elua, but I ached with it! And chrism at the last, oil upon my brow, for grace. When I was a child, I'd no notion of what it meant; now, I prayed I might find it in Naamah's Service.
It was done, and the priestess and her acolytes stepped aside. I knelt before the altar, the statue of Naamah, holding the dove in closed hands before me. Opaque, those sculpted eyes; we find in her service what we bring to it. "My lady, be kind to your Servant," I whispered, and released the dove.
I did not watch, this time, as it launched free of my hands and winged its way to the oculus. The priestess and her acolytes did, tracking it smiling. I did not need to watch to know my dove found its way. With bowed head, I knelt until I felt the priestess' hands at my shoulders, bidding me to rise.
"Welcome back," she said and kissed me; I felt the tip of her tongue dart between my lips and had to keep myself from clutching her wrists as she released me. The priests of Naamah are not quite like any other. Her long green eyes glinted in the slanting light of the temple, wise and knowing. "Welcome back, Servant of Naamah."
Thus it was done, and I stumbled twice leaving the temple, leaning hard on the arm of the acolyte who had admitted me. A dam may hold for a hundred years, but once it develops a chink, the rushing tide comes after. Thus did I feel, having dammed the terrible force of my desires for a year
and more. The dam had cracked when I opened Melisande's parcel and found my sangoire cloak; the flood was not far behind. I do not mean, if I may say it, that I loved Joscelin theless, nor desired him less for it. From the first, even when I despised him, I found him beautiful. And to those who think a Cassiline, unschooled in the arts of love, no fit match for a trained courtesan, I may say they are wrong. When he surrendered to it—and he did—Joscelin brought to our bed a desire wholly untutored, but as pure and wonder-struck as Elua's first wanderings on mortal soil. That is a treasure no one else has ever given me, nor ever could. What I taught him, he learned as if he were the first to discover it, eager and natural as a new-minted creature.
It was enough, for a time.
No longer.
So it was that I rode home, torn between exhilaration and guilt. Dusk was falling when I reached the house, and by the stable-lad Benoit's downcast gaze, I knew he had been chastised for permitting me to leave alone.
"Benoit," I said, causing him to lift his head with a jerk. "I am mistress of this house."
"Yes, my lady," he mumbled, taking my reins. I couldn't blame him for it; if I hadn't felt the same, I'd not have regarded my escapade as an escape.
Nonetheless, I told him firmly, "You do no wrong in obeying my wishes. I will tell them as much."
He mumbled something else, hurrying toward the stable and leading my horse at a trot. Chin upraised, I swept into the house.
They were all there, waiting. The day-maid sketched me a quick curtsy, and whisked past to make her escape. Remy and Ti-Philippe would not meet my eyes; Fortun gazed at me expressionlessly. In the background, my kitchen-mistress Eugenie waited nervously.