Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [164]
"And free of it elsewhere?" I asked softly.
The Cruarch of Alba nodded. "Yes.”
I blew out my breath and glanced at Dorelei. She looked happy, her face soft with contentment. Her cheeks had grown rounder as the babe grew within her; or mayhap it was the result of Milcis' fine honey. She caught my eye and smiled, dimples showing deeply.
"A hard choice," Drustan said with genuine sympathy.
"Truly." I squared my shoulders. "My lord, I'm not going anywhere until the babe's born. I've promised her that much. We will talk, though.”
"Imriel…" Drustan hesitated. "If you would hear my counsel, I would say that if there is sufficient love present, a marriage may endure on a quarter-measure of time. Of a surety, I ought to know." He patted my shoulder. "Think on it, and I will think on your words tonight. I must needs consult with Talorcan before I give any answer, and with my own lady wife, too." He laughed. "Mayhap Sister Nehailah will permit me the use of her doves.”
That night as we lay abed, before blowing out the lamp, I told Dorelei about the priestess' message and what the Cruarch had said.
She listened gravely, her dark eyes luminous. "So he proposes a marriage like his own?”
"I think so, yes.”
"It wouldn't be, though. Not really." Dorelei toyed with the red yarn around my wrist. "You'd have to consent to be bound here in Alba. Every time you came, you'd have to give up your freedom.”
"I know," I said. "And you your dreams.”
"Could you do such a thing?" she asked.
"I think so." I stroked her hair, black and shining, straight as fine-combed silk. "In truth? I don't know, love. We never know what we're capable of doing until we're called upon to do it. I'd try, though. What of you? Could you endure it?”
Dorelei smiled ruefully, her face averted. "Oh, yes.”
"Well, then." I shrugged.
She looked up at me. "What about her?”
It had been a long time since we'd spoken of it. I didn't answer right away, realizing I'd not thought it through. What if there's a child? Sidonie had told me she would hate knowing there was such a large part of me she couldn't share. But that was true, regardless; and she already knew it. Come when you can, with or without your wits. Would Sidonie be content with three-quarters of my life? Would she be willing to take me as a consort while I continued to be wed to my Alban wife? To bear her own heirs out of wedlock? It would be a tremendous sacrifice to ask of her. And I didn't even want to begin to think about how Queen Ysandre and the D'Angeline peerage would react. Mayhap it would be better all around if Dorelei and I let our vows lapse when the year and a day had passed.
And yet…
"I don't know," I said softly. "Truly, Dorelei, I don't. But I do know we've made a life together here, and a child between us, and I can't walk away from that altogether. Not now, not ever.”
"I'm glad," she whispered.
Chapter Thirty-Three
On the day of the Feast of the Dead, we fasted.
Oh, to be sure, the kitchens were hard at work all day long; in Clunderry Castle and in every crofter's thatched hut. They turned out tarts and pies, all manner of puddings and oatcakes by the score, while soups simmered, roasts sizzled in their own juices, and capons grew crisp-skinned and tender. But none of it was meant to be eaten, not yet.
Outside the castle walls, the foundation for a great bonfire was laid with care, a tall cone reaching toward the steely grey sky. Despite the cold weather and the hunger, everyone was in good spirits.
Although I understood the protocol of the celebration, I had no idea what to expect. I'd felt the presence of the dead unleashed among the living in Lucca and it hadn't been pleasant. The prospect of courting them deliberately had me nervous and on edge. I couldn't help thinking about the way Gallus Tadius had taken possession of Lucius. Dorelei assured it me it was nothing like what I'd witnessed in Lucca. Betimes the dead appeared to one, but often they didn't. She claimed to have seen a spirit once; the spirit of her aunt Moiread, who had died