Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [15]
And Joscelin strode forward to grasp my shoulders. "Phèdre!" My name burst from his lips, harsh with anxiety; he shook me a little. "Blessed Elua, where in the seven hells have you been?"
His fingers bit into my flesh and I closed my eyes. "Out."
"Out?" The white lines of rage stood out on his face, so close to mine. His hands clenched hard. "You idiot, one ofus should have gone with you! Whatever it was, there is no reason for you to go unescorted, do you understand? Whoever Melisande's allies are, they know damned well who you are!" He punctuated his words with hard shakes. "Never, ever go out unattended, do you promise me? What on earth would possess you—?"
Hard, his hands on my shoulders; my head rocked with the force of his fury as he shook me. Ah, Elua, it was sweet! The violence of it was spark to tinder for me.
Whatever was reflected on my face, Joscelin saw it; his hands fell away. "Blessed ..." he whispered in disgust, turning away from me, his voice trailing off. When he spoke, it was without looking at me. "Don't do it again."
"Joscelin." I waited until he turned. "You knew what I was."
"Yes." His voice was brief. "And you what I was. Where does that leave us, Phèdre?"
I had no answer, so gave none, and presently he went away. Remy released a long-held breath and fingered the dagger at his belt.
"My lady, if he harms you, Cassiline or no ..."
"Let him be." I cut him off. "He is in pain, and it is my doing. Let him be."
"No." It was Fortun who spoke, slow and thoughtful. "It is Cassiel's doing, my lady. And even you can do naught about that."
"Maybe." I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes. "But I chose my course, and it is Joscelin who bears the price of it."
"Stupid to speak of blame when the wills of the immortals are involved." Ti-Philippe, irrepressible as ever, fished a pair of dice from his purse and tossed them high, grinning. "Let the Cassiline stew, my lady; I am told they thrive upon it. Fortun says we have questions to ask, and quarry to pursue!"
"Yes." I dropped my hands and gazed at their open, eager faces, steeling my resolve. "We do. And I must plan my debut."
SIX
In the end, my decision was made for me. There are patterns which emerge in one's life, circling and returning anew, an endless variation of a theme. So musicians say the greatest sonatas are composed; whether or not it is true, I do not know, but of a surety, I have seen it emerge in the tapestry of my life.
I received an invitation to the Midwinter Masque at the Palace.
The first such event I attended was as a child not quite ten, at Cereus House. It was there that I saw for the first time Baudoin de Trevalion, Prince of the Blood. He is dead now, executed for treason, along with his mother Lyonette, who was sister to King Ganelon and called the Lioness of Azzalle. I used to spy upon her for Delaunay; there was a Marquise among my patrons who answered to the Lioness of Azzalle. It wasn't Delaunay who brought down House Trevalion, though. That was Melisande's doing, Melisande and Isidore d'Aiglemort. None of us guessed, then, why Melisande would do such a thing; Baudoin ate from the palm of her hand, or near to it. He gave her the very letters that condemned him, correspondence between his mother and Foclaidha of Alba, plotting to seize the throne of Terre d'Ange.
I know, now; everyone knows. Melisande knew Baudoin would not have defied his mother openly for her sake, and she had a greater target in mind. Terre d'Ange and Skaldia combined, an empire the likes of which no one has seen since the days of Tiberium's rule. D'Aiglemort was only a pawn, though he didn't know it until the end. I know, I'm the one who told him.
Thus my first Midwinter Masque. And my last... my last had been the last assignation I ever took as Delaunay's anguissette, and the only time Melisande Shahrizai ever contracted me as sole patron. I earned my marque, that LongestNight, with the patron-gift she made me. It is the only time, in a hundred assignations, I ever gave the signale, the code word of surrender that requires a patron