Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [147]
We drew rein for a moment, gazing at Clunderry "I love it!" Alais said fervently, provoking a grin from dour Urist. "It's so pretty!”
Dorelei glanced at me. "What do you think?"
"I think we're home," I said.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The folk of Clunderry received us with reactions ranging from joy to wariness.
Most of the wariness, I must own, was directed at me. The dark Cruithne-stamped features that had marked Alais as alien in Terre d'Ange stood her in good stead here, and her exuberance was infectious.
And most of the joy was evoked by the return of Dorelei, who was well liked by the household there. Her friend Kerys—Kinadius' sister—was one of the first to greet her, racing into the courtyard to fling her arms around Dorelei's neck.
"Oh, I've missed you!" she said impulsively, then turned. "Is this him ?”
Dorelei nodded. "Imriel, this is my friend Kerys.”
I had dismounted and was holding the Bastard's reins, wary of turning him over to a stable-lad without warning. I bowed. "Well met, my lady.”
"Oh." Kerys' eyes grew wide as she gazed at me, and her hands rose involuntarily to cover her mouth. "Oh!" She bobbed a curtsy. "Oh!”
"Don't worry." Dorelei smiled wryly. "You'll grow accustomed to him.”
She was right, but it took time.
During the first weeks that we ensconced ourselves at Clunderry, I nearly wished I had gotten my first warrior's mark, if only to blend better. It wasn't the first time I'd been the only full-blooded D'Angeline present in a foreign land, but of a surety, it was the only time I'd been set in a position of authority over a folk not my own.
And unfortunately, it wasn't just my features that set me apart. Terre d'Ange maintained a presence in Alba's cities, but few of my countrymen ventured into the rural areas. As a result, most of the ordinary folk of Clunderry knew D'Angelines only by reputation and rumor. They eyed me askance, waiting for me to display signs of the infamous D'Angeline licentiousness, wondering if I would begin a campaign of seduction and cut a swath through the willing lasses—and mayhap a few of the lads—of the estate.
Ironically enough, it reminded me of my own reaction when my Shahrizai cousins had summered at Montrève, bringing their smoldering Kusheline glamour with them. I'd been in a state of anticipation, half dreading and half hoping to catch Mavros in some thrilling, unspeakable act.
And so, like my kinsmen, I made it a point to conduct myself with perfect propriety. Of a surety, 'twas easy enough; I'd pledged myself to Dorelei in an oath I meant to keep, and all my darker desires were bound and muted. But the cause for that set me apart, too. The story of the Maghuin Dhonn's ensorcelment circulated; folks looked at the red yarn around my wrists and the croonie-stone at my throat and murmured. Even my morning practice of the forms of the Cassiline discipline, which I'd kept up diligently and refused to relinquish, drew stares and giggles.
But slowly, slowly, it changed.
I daresay it would have been more awkward if it hadn't been for Alais. Kinadius and several of the younger Cruithne under Urist's command had appointed themselves her honor guard. For several hours of the day, Alais studied with the ollamh Firdha, learning the myriad symbols and their meanings that might be found in dreams, and a good bit of herb-lore, too. When she was free, Alais explored every inch of Clunderry Castle and the immediate surroundings, accompanied by her honor guard and her ever-present wolfhound; and where she went, people were charmed. As they grew fond of the Cruarch's half-breed daughter, they warmed to the idea of a half-breed heir to Clunderry.
And slowly, to me.
Lady Breidaia's presence helped, too. Dorelei was close to her mother