Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [323]
It was with a full heart that I watched Ysandre and Drustan begin the first dance, shortly joined by many other couples. Their duties done, they had eyes only for each other, locking glances and smiling deeply; two realms, two rulers, united in love and a shared dream. It is my thought that this is the deeper meaning of the Precept of Blessed Elua; in love, howsoever it is manifest, we are greater than the sum of our parts.
Little enough time I had to think on it, for Barquiel L'Envers claimed a dance of me, and I joined him with good will, glad of a chance to lay our quarrels to rest before the eyes of the realm. I looked for Joscelin afterward, but he was partnering Thelesis de Mornay; Gilles Lamiz approached me, an unexpected nervous stammer threading his poet's voice. In the dance, he held me so lightly one might have thought I was made of porcelain. It made me smile, to think I would break so easily, after all I had endured. I drank a toast to his poem when we had done, for the mischievous pleasure of seeing him redden and stammer all the harder. The cordial tasted heady, and it seemed to me that the lamps burned brighter for it.
There is a wild and piercing sweetness in celebrating life after a long sorrow; all of us felt it that night. Spring is ever a time of renewal, and it seemed fit, after so long, to rediscover pure, unalloyed happiness.
"Phèdre nó Delaunay." I turned at the voice, recognizing it; Nicola L'Envers y Aragon regarded me with amusement.
"It is no easy task to gain your ear this evening," she said, giving me the kiss of greeting.
"Nicola." I took her hand, having too much to say, and no words to say it. "You were right, in what you tried to tell me. I owe you a greater debt than I can repay."
"Mmm." She shrugged and gave her lazy smile, setting my heart to speed its pace, remembering our dalliances. "You could try, of course. I have heard that you've not returned to the Service of Naamah, but there's naught to prevent you from taking a lover." Her violet gaze drifted over my shoulder, and she inclined her head in greeting. "Well met, my lord Cassiline."
"My lady Nicola."
I fair jumped at the sound of Joscelin's voice, craning my head around to see his expression. Nicola laughed, reaching out to stroke my burning cheek.
"Think on it," she said lightly, moving away.
I opened my mouth to speak, and Joscelin cut me off. "Phèdre, if you're going to think of taking lovers—"
"I'm not—"
"—I think it would be a good idea if you declared me your official consort, first."
"Joscelin, I'm not..." I stopped, staring at him. He wore a crooked smile and his green-leaved wreath sat askew on his head, making him look rather like a young, drunken god. "Do you mean it?"
"I told you in La Serenissima, I don't care if you take a thousand patrons—"
"Not that," I interrupted him. "About declaring you my consort."
"Oh, that" Joscelin laughed. "Phèdre nó Delaunay, we are mismatched in more ways than I can count, and like as not, we'll find ways to hurt each other neither of us have even dreamt yet. The only thing I can imagine worse than spending my life with you is being without you—I've done it, and I never want to experience the like again. If you can find your way back to my side through besotted pirates, murderous Serenissimans and deadly storms, I'm not goingto waste time worrying about a few ambitious patrons. Besides ..." he grinned, "... I reckon I ought to claim the role before you find a way to get that damned Tsingano off his forsaken island, and—"
He didn't get any further, for at that moment I threw both arms around his neck and kissed him hard enough to make both our heads reel.
Somewhere in the Temple of Asherat, Melisande Shahrizai was likely spinning a new and deadly plot; somewhere, Elua