Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [211]
"Forgive me, your highness," he said. "Commander Urist said you wished to be awakened." He glanced past me into the wreckage of the darkened room; the cold bath, blood-sodden bandages beside it, the remains of our dinner strewn around the floor amid shards of broken crockery. And the heir to Terre d'Ange, naked and sublimely disheveled, sitting in a tangle of bedclothes. Isembart's expression never changed. "I'll send attendants.”
"My thanks." I took the lamp from him, closed the door, and eyed Sidonie. "You might put some clothes on, you know.”
She smiled sleepily. "He's a steward for the Shahrizai. I daresay he's seen worse.”
"Do it for my sake, then," I suggested. "Or I'll never be able to bring myself to leave.”
"Mmm." A hint of regret clouded her smile. "Don't tempt me.”
There was a part of me that yearned to stay. To barricade the door and return to the bed with Sidonie. To make love until we were limp and exhausted, covered in sweat and drenched with love's juices. To tie her to the bedposts and fling open the doors of the flagellary. To explore every pleasure, the sharp and the sweet alike. To forget about the world that lay beyond these four walls and lose myself in her.
But there was the matter of vengeance.
I took a deep breath, feeling my scabbed bear-gouges stretch and crackle. I thought about Dorelei, laughing and alive, our son growing in her belly. All the lovemaking in the world wasn't enough to assuage the deep ache of that grief. Berlik had rent my heart as surely as my flesh, and it was a scar I'd carry to the end of my days. I thought about the bear-witch and his sad, sad face. Somewhere to the north, Kinadius and the others were following his trail. I had to join them. There would be no lasting peace for me until Berlik was dead, and his head buried at Dorelei's feet.
And if mighty Kushiel was merciful, I'd find the chance to kill him myself.
Sidonie slid into her dressing-robe and crossed the room. She touched my face, kissing me lightly. She was the eldest child of the Cruarch of Alba and the heir to the Queen of Terre d'Ange. I didn't need to speak to her of love, honor, and duty. "There's clean water in the ewer by the washbasin. Go wash, and I'll find that salve you mentioned.”
I obeyed.
She did a good job of tying the bandages, better than the first time. She was a quick study. I watched her deft fingers at work and thought about what Alais had said about her. "We talked about you," I said. "Alais and I.”
Sidonie gave me a quick glance. "Did you?”
"Yes." I smiled. "She came to visit me every day in the temple, after it happened. I don't think I could have endured it without her. She said betimes it was hard to be your sister, because you're always the proper one. But that you're fierce, too, only it doesn't show. I said I knew that." I watched her mouth quirk with amusement. "She said it was hard to think about, you and I. But she promised she would, if I promised to live.
"Blessed Alais," Sidonie murmured. "I miss her.”
"Berlik killed her dog," I said.
"I know." Her hands went still for a moment. "Turn around, I need to knot this in the back.”
I shifted. "Did you know Alais wants to rule Alba?”
"Oh, yes." Sidonie tied the final knot. "Or at least to rule as Talorcan's equal and see their children inherit. Imriel…" She sighed, sitting back on her heels. I turned to face her. "Will you please go kill this man, this cursed magician, so you can avenge your wife and your unborn child, and come home and marry me so we can spend the rest of our lives making love and discussing politics?”
Her eyes were bright with tears. I swallowed. "Yes.”
"Good," she said.
While we spoke, attendants arrived and set the room in order; cleaning away the mess, kindling a new fire in the hearth, bringing boiled eggs, sausages, fresh-baked bread, and an assortment of fruits. They were swift and efficient, and once they had finished, there was nothing to do but dress and eat.
And leave.
Once we were under