Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [5]
'Twenty-two." A touch of indignation in my tone made her smile.
"You see? Scarce out of girlhood." She toyed with a strand of pearls, but her pale blue eyes were shrewd. "Although I'll allow that you've seen and done things no Night Court adept could survive. Still, in ten years, you might come into your prime. Is it only that, my dear, or is it Anafiel Delaunay's game you seek to play?"
I should have known she would suspect it. Cècilie had
been the one to train us, Alcuin and me, in the arts of love; she had also been one of the few who knew what Delaunay was about. For a brief moment, I considered confiding in her. I trusted her discretion. But it would worry her; and itcould endanger her, too. And unlike Joscelin and my chevaliers, Cecilie was no warrior sworn to my protection, skilled in the arts of defense. It cast Delaunay's dilemma in a different light, and for the first time I sympathized with his desire to shield me in ignorance.
"I'm sworn to Naamah, and not to House Courcel," I said lightly. "Unlike my lord Delaunay. But you may be sure, I've not forgotten what I learned in his service. I will keep my ears open and my wits about me. If I learn aught that Ysandre should know ..." I shrugged. "So much the better."
Not entirely convinced, Cecilie leveled her gaze at me. "Be careful, Phèdre."
As an adept of Cereus House, she had cause to know. In the Thirteen Houses of the Court of Night-Blooming Flowers, Naamah's Service was an item of faith. As Naamah had lain down with strangers on blessed Elua's behalf, so did we; but we were mortal, and where power intersects with pleasure, there is danger. Adepts of the Night Court dabbled with great caution in political intrigue. As a peer of the realm, I risked all the more. No one living had done it.
Placing a candied rose petal on my tongue, I let it melt in a wash of sweetness. "I will," I promised. "What news have I missed?"
"Ah, well!" Her eyes danced. "Despite the Cruarch's visit this summer, it grows obvious that the Queen is not with child. Now that winter stares us in the teeth, speculation mounts as to whether or not she will take a lover; and if so, whom."
"Does it indeed?" I murmured. "Do you think she will?" We were D'Angeline. Love as thou wilt. She would not have been the first, nor the last.
"No," Cecilie said decisively, shaking her head before sipping her wine. "Ysandre was raised as a pawn on the playing field of marital alliance; she knows how to play the game and commit to none. Any mind, I hear she is committed to him. If House Courcel provides an heir, he or she will be half Picti."
It was true; I had reason to know it. Against all odds, themarriage of the Queen of Terre d'Ange and the Cruarch of Alba was a love match—and the Strait that divided them was nigh as deep as the one between Joscelin and me.
"Still," Cecilie continued, "it is open season on the position of Queen's paramour, and contenders abound."
"If Ysandre is not troubled, I'll not trouble myself." I took up the wine-jug and refilled our glasses. "What of the Skaldi? Have the borders been quiet?"
"As the grave." There was satisfaction in her tone. "Somerville was awarded a duchy, you know; sovereign in L'Agnace. No one disputes it. The Royal Army's been approved to stand down, now. Camaelines hold the border."
"D'Aiglemort's men?" I glanced up, surprised. Cecilie nodded.
"The Unforgiven, they call themselves," she said softly. "They bear black shields."
We were both silent a moment, remembering. Only a few of the Allies of Camlach had survived the battle of Troyes-le-Mont, where the Skaldi warlord Waldemar Selig had united his people, leading an invasion against Terre d'Ange. He had had reason to believe he would prevail, encouraged in his endeavors by Melisande Shahrizai, who played a deep-laid game. I know, for she sold me into slavery among the Skaldi when I learned