Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [162]
My heart contracted painfully. I touched the croonie-stone at my throat. "Why?”
Alais looked sidelong at me. "You saw us in the sea-mirror. Dorelei told me.”
"I didn't want you to think I was spying." I smiled, but Alais didn't smile in answer. "Maslin of Lombelon?”
She nodded. "I never liked him, you know. He treated you badly, and he never had the slightest interest in me. I think he's false and ambitious, and he masks it with rudeness. Sidonie thinks he's blunt and honest. We quarrelled about it.”
My bindings itched. Somewhere, on the far side of the ollamh's charms, bitter jealousy stirred. I gazed at Blessed Elua's face, rubbing my palms on my thighs until it passed. "He may be ambitious, Alais; and of a surety, he's proud and arrogant. Still, I don't think he'd play Sidonie false.”
The words surprised me, a little, but they were true. Alais frowned. "Mayhap. I don't know. Anyway, I don't think he makes her happy.”
"Does she make him happy?" I asked.
"Not really, no." Alais gave her reply without looking at me.
"Alais …" I touched her arm.
"You know, I understand it all a little bit better, now." She fixed her gaze on the wolfhound. "It's different here in Alba, at least for me. I see why people play the game for fun. It is fun, though I imagine it can be dangerous, too. I wish…" Her voice trailed off.
"What do you wish, love?" I asked.
Alais did look at me, then. Her nose was red with cold, but her eyes were direct and unwavering. "I wish I had more time before wedding Talorcan.”
I took a deep breath. "Then you should have it.”
"How?" she asked.
"We'll talk to your father." I shifted to sit on my heels, warming my bare feet. "Alais, sixteen is young to wed. The sky won't fall if your nuptials are postponed for a year." She watched me with uncertainty and hope. "Besides," I added, "you came to Alba to spend this year studying with the ollamh, right?" Alais nodded. I plucked at the red yarn around my left wrist. "Well, you've hardly had a chance.”
"Actually, I've learned a great deal," she said.
"In theory," I pointed out. "But you're not dreaming, are you?”
"No," she said slowly. "Do you think Father might listen?”
"I do," I said. "And I think there's merit in waiting to sort out this business with the Old Ones before wedding another member of House Courcel into the ranks of Alban's succession. I'm quite sure your mother would agree on that score.”
"Will you talk to Father?" Alais asked. "He's more like to heed you.”
"I will," I promised.
She smiled, but there was an edge to it. "You know, there's not much I'd change about Alba, Imri. I love it here, I truly do. But I would change the laws of succession.”
"And rule as Alba's Queen?" I asked.
Alais' chin rose. "One day, yes.”
I didn't laugh. I looked gravely at her. Everything it seemed the Maghuin Dhonn had tried to bind me to or trick from me was already present. Alais loved Alba; Alais carried within herself the balance between the old ways and the new.
"Alba could suffer worse fates, love," I said.
I kept my word to her and sent a message to Drustan mab Necthana requesting an audience with him. To my surprise, he sent a prompt reply informing me of his intention to visit Clunderry to attend the Feast of the Dead.
I had to own, the celebration was one I faced with a certain apprehension.
'Twas the time of year when all of Alba held that the veil between the living and the dead was at its thinnest, as the days grew shorter and shorter, edging toward the Longest Night. Almost everyone at Clunderry had some tale of encountering a departed spirit during the Feast of the Dead, but none of them had ever seen a living man possessed by a dead one.
I had.
Still, it was important that I take part in it. Firdha informed me of this in no uncertain terms. "You got your shrine, Prince