Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [29]
I rubbed away the tears with the heel of my hand. "I told you. You should gauge your patrons better." I pulled up my breeches and fastened them. My arousal had faded, leaving behind a dull, unfulfilled ache. I extended my hand to her, then retrieved her gown. "Here.”
She dressed without comment and made to draw back the drapes, then paused. "Tell me, highness. Was the victory worth the cost?”
I thought about it. "Probably not.”
Janelle nó Bryony inclined her head. "Well, then.”
With that, she opened the drapes and presented me to the shouting throng, sinking low in an elaborate curtsy of acknowledgment and defeat. I looked down at their upturned faces and listened to the sound of my name being chanted. Wagers were settled, coins changing hands. Mavros, his cupped hands overflowing, winked up at me. Janelle fished a pair of ivory tokens from her purse and tossed them to him, and the crowd roared some more before turning to other pursuits and fresh pleasures, fueled by avarice and desire.
Afterward, during the carriage ride homeward, I was quiet. Mavros hummed to himself in contentment, dividing our spoils. "Here." He poured a handful of coins into my lap, making a point of showing me the ivory token. "Mind you don't lose this.”
I tucked my share away. "I didn't think you'd wager on me.”
"Ah, well." He shrugged. "You're a stubborn one. I know that much about you.”
"Too stubborn, mayhap," I mused.
"Mayhap." Mavros considered me. "Imri, listen. I was all for this idea. After two Houses, I'm not so sure. Me, I can find pleasure in anything, but you've got a way of battering yourself to pieces against your own desires.”
"You know why," I murmured.
"I do." He nodded. "Some of it, at any rate. But listen, beneath the trappings of pleasure, these are Servants of Naamah, sworn to her service. When we indulge ourselves in the Night Court, we make reverence to Naamah in the ways we like best. When you choose instead to wrestle with your own despite, you do Naamah a disservice.”
I looked away, knowing Mavros was right. "What would you have me do?”
"Stop picking at scars," he said laconically. "Scratch the itch.”
"Easier said than done," I said.
He shrugged again. "You asked.”
I thought about his words in the days that followed, and we didn't visit any more Houses. I went instead to the Temple of Naamah, to make an offering and beg forgiveness lest I had offended. To my surprise and pleasure, Phèdre and Joscelin elected to accompany me.
It was an unpredictable day, with an unseasonable warm breeze blowing. Everywhere in the City, people had exchanged heavy winter garb for lighter attire. Dense clouds scudded across the sky, broken by patches of brilliant blue.
I bought a dove from the vendors outside the temple, carrying it in a gilded cage. The Great Temple of Naamah was a modest place, a round marble building surrounded by gardens. Even in winter, it was green with cypresses and yew trees, filled with the cooing of sacred doves.
"My lady!" The acolyte at the door bowed low at the sight of Phèdre. "We are honored.”
Phèdre was one of Naamah's Servants, too, and she has taken it to places farther and more terrible and wondrous, I think, than any adept of the Night Court might dream. It has been many years since Naamah called her to service, but if she did, I daresay Phèdre would answer. But today was not that day. She merely looked calm and peaceful as we entered the temple. I showed the acolyte my dove and told him my desire, and he went to fetch the priest.
"So." Joscelin tilted his head, gazing at the statue of Naamah that stood beneath the oculus at the apex of the dome. "You were dedicated here?”
"Twice," Phèdre agreed. They stood side by side, hands entwined. Naamah's arms were open as though to embrace the world. Her face was soft with compassion and desire, bathed in a