Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [172]
But although he greeted his mother with genuine fondness and exclaimed over his sister's enormous belly, I doubted this was a visit of mere courtesy. Alais and I exchanged glances, wondering.
"How long till the babe comes?" Talorcan asked. "You look ready to burst!”
"I feel like it," Dorelei said. "But Cluna says another month.”
He smiled. "Good old Cluna's attending you?”
She nodded. "Of course.”
It had been a point of contention between us. Cluna and her mother and her mother's mother before her had served as midwife to most of Clunderry, and there was a good deal of dissent over whether or not she was named for the estate, or the estate took its name from her line. Of a surety, her family had been here a very long time, and Cluna was one of the few women the ollamh Firdha considered a friend. Still, she was growing elderly—she'd attended the births of Dorelei and Talorcan—and she was trained as a wise-woman, not a proper chirurgeon. As soon as the weather broke, I'd wanted to send to Terre d'Ange for a chirurgeon, but the women of Clunderry had laughed at me. Dorelei had the final say, and that was an argument I'd lost.
We put up Talorcan's men in the garrison and entertained him throughout the day, making small talk over the evening meal. It wasn't until after dinner that he got down to business. Dorelei excused herself early, and I daresay mayhap Lady Breidaia sent round a discreet word, for the rest of the household followed her lead, leaving Alais and me alone with the Cruarch's heir.
Talorcan sat across from us, folding his hands on the table. He was not, I thought, entirely pleased with the way matters had developed. I wished I wasn't bound. I couldn't read him as clearly as I might otherwise.
"It is Prince Imriel who made the proposal," he said to Alais. "And yet he would not have done so without your consent; or indeed, at your request. Before I give my answer, I would like to hear the reason from your lips, my lady. Why do you wish to postpone our wedding?”
"Your answer, my lord?" I asked politely.
Talorcan shot me a look. "I come as the Cruarch's mouthpiece, of course." He smiled disarmingly then. "I'm a man shunned, Imriel! Give me leave to ask why.”
"I'm not shunning you, my lord." Alais frowned. "It's not our custom to wed so young in Terre d'Ange. I agreed to it because settling the matter was supposed to foster continued peace and prosperity between Alba and Terre d'Ange, like Imriel's marriage to your sister.”
"And so it has done," Talorcan noted.
"Yes, and stirred unrest in Alba!" Alais said tartly. "My lord, my kinsman is bound twofold by Alban magic. I watched his face when the Daughter of the Grove restored his broken bindings. It changed. A brightness went out of it, blown out like a candle-flame.”
"You're afraid," he said softly.
"Yes." Alais met his gaze steadily. "Yes, I am. And the gift of my birthright is blind and useless. I came to Alba to learn what it meant to be a daughter of Necthana's line. I wish time to do this. Is a year's grace so much to ask?”
"No." Talorcan sighed. "No, it is not.”
"So the Cruarch accedes?" I asked.
"He does." Talorcan's mouth quirked. "And I am given to understand that her majesty Queen Ysandre privately insists upon it until such time as she may be assured the Maghuin Dhonn are not a threat to her daughter. However…" He paused. "It is Lord Drustan's plan that the news be released quietly. At the same time, even more quietly, the news will be released that Master Hyacinthe will not train a successor.”
Alais cocked her head. "Why?”
"Politics," I murmured.
Talorcan inclined his head. "Master Hyacinthe may be of Tsingani blood, but he is D'Angeline by birth.