Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [6]
I could have done none of it without Joscelin.
The Allies of Camlach had been vassals of the traitorous Duc Isidore d'Aiglemort, Melisande's ally, whose fatal conspiracy had opened the door for the Skaldic invasion and
nearly brought ruin on the nation. Isidore d'Aiglemort is dead now, and he died a hero at the end.
I was there, watching from the parapet, when he led the charge against Waldemar Selig's army. It was the Allies ofCamlach who had driven a wedge into the massed Skaldi, and d'Aiglemort himself who slew Selig. He didn't live to tell of it; not many men of Camlach had survived that charge. Those who had lived had vowed themselves to driving the invading Skaldi far beyond D'Angeline borders.
The Unforgiven. It was a disturbing name.
"Did you hear?" Cecilie changed the subject, poring over the tray of dainties. "Prince Benedicte has remarried."
"No!"
"Oh, yes." She looked amused. "Do you suppose the passions of the flesh wither with age, my dear?"
"But he must be ..."
"Only sixty-aught," Cecilie said complacently. "And twelve years a widower. Ganelon was his elder, by a considerable amount. He took a Camaeline lass to wife, whose family was slain in the war. Tourande, Tourais, something like that. They're expecting a child, come spring. I didn't tell you?"
"No," I said absently. "What does it betoken, for the throne?"
"Naught that I know of." She nibbled at a bit of marche-pain. "As Ganelon's brother, Benedicte is still formally next in line, but he has two daughters to succeed him, although I understand Thérèse is imprisoned for her part in Isabel L'Envers' death."
"And Barquiel L'Envers?"
"The Duc L'Envers." Cecilie set her piece of marchepain down unfinished. "If you're wary of anyone, be wary of him, Phèdre. Ysandre is thick with her uncle—and I do not say it is wrong, for blood calls to blood. But House L'Envers was ever ambitious, and he was your lord's enemy, you know. Ysandre may be Isabel's daughter, but she bears Rolande's blood."
I knew; I knew it well. The Duc Barquiel L'Envers was high atop the list of peers I mistrusted. As it happens, I also owed him my life.
"Well," I said reflectively. "A proper hornet's nest, it seems.”
"When were politics aught else?" Cecilie gave me a long, evaluating glance. "If you're going to do this, we'll need to set you up properly, Phèdre no Delaunay de Montrève. In living memory, no peer of the realm has chosen to follow Naamah's service. You're going against fashion, my dear."
"I know," I said. "But Naamah's arts are older than Terre d'Ange itself, and her service is ancient among us. I was her Servant before I was a peer. There was honor in both, once, and neither precluded the other. I swore an oath, Cecilie. I made the dedication and released a dove in Naamah's name. Do you say I should gainsay it?"
"No," Cecilie sighed. "Nor will the Queen. Do you plan to maintain a salon?"
"No." I smiled. "I never did, in Delaunay's service. My ... patrons ... prefer to set their own terms, on their own territory. I am an anguissette, after all."
"Well, if anyone can restore the lustre to Naamah's service, it's you, child." She cocked her head. "You'll at least need the services of a proper attendant. Have you a seamstress in mind? If you've not, I've word of a lass in Eglantine House who might do." I shook my head. "Have you registered with the Guild yet? You'll need to do that, now that you've made your marque. Oh, Phèdre!" Cecilie clapped her hands together, eyes sparkling. "We've so much to do!"
THREE
1 found the scholars' hall. The yeshiva."
We had not spoken of it on the ride back from Cecilie's; Joscelin had not offered, and I pushed him on little these
days. Pouring more tea, I raised my