Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [314]
Our eyes met.
A thing may be true and not true. An affair of state; but a lovers' reunion, too. I didn't need to see her smile of profound gladness to know it was there behind her solemnity. And I didn't need to smile in reply. What was between us was larger and deeper than what lay on the surface. The cord drew taut, the knot was tied. Captain Corcan gave the order to strike the sails. We glided into port. Sailors went to oars, slowing and guiding our progress. Others tossed out lines, expertly caught and tied.
The Cruarch's flagship had arrived.
I was the first to disembark. It was fitting. I walked slowly down the ramp. My legs should have felt unsteady after a day at sea, but I wasn't aware of anything but the moment. My Vralian attire was worn and shabby, but I had my sword hanging from my belt, I wore the engraved vambraces Dorelei had given me, and the Cruarch's torc around my throat. I carried the leather bag containing Berlik's skull with both hands, holding it before me.
"Welcome, Prince Imriel." Drustan's tone was unreadable.
"My lord Cruarch." I bowed deeply and held it. "My lords and ladies of Alba." I straightened and proffered the satchel like an offering. "I come bringing vengeance for my wife, Dorelei mab Breidaia.”
Drustan took the leather bag from me. He undid the strings, removed Berlik's skull, and held it aloft. White bone gleamed under the sun. The jawbone grinned at death's endless jest, but the empty eye-sockets beneath the broad expanse of brow were filled with sorrowful darkness. A sigh ran through the assembled company.
"Well done," Drustan said quietly.
I bowed again; to him, to Breidaia and Talorcan, Hyacinthe and Sibeal. To all of Dorelei's kin, including Alais, who stood with them. And then I turned to Sidonie, and bowed to her as I would have to the Queen of Terre d'Ange.
"Well met, Prince Imriel." Her voice was calm and steady. When I rose, she lifted her chin to meet my gaze. "On behalf of her majesty Queen Ysandre, I extend the sympathies of Terre dAnge on the loss of our kinswoman Dorelei mab Breidaia. I extend our gratitude to you and your companions for seeking justice on her behalf.”
Those were the words she spoke.
I love you.
Those were the words I heard.
I gave Sidonie the kiss of greeting, austere and correct. We could wait. We had learned to wait. It was enough to feel her lips beneath mine, soft and warm. A promise. The blood beat in my veins, a steady pulse of joy. "Thank you, your highness.”
Those were the words I spoke.
I love you.
Those were the words she heard.
We knew it; we both knew it. I daresay there was no one there who didn't know it on some level. Albans do not love gossip the way D'Angelines do, but they are not insensible to it, either. Still, we conducted ourselves with absolute propriety.
The others descended the ramp; Urist, leaning on his walking-staff. He got a somber hero's welcome, shrugging it off uncomfortably. So did Brun and Kinadius, although Kinadius welcomed it more gladly. I didn't mind; so far as I was concerned, he deserved it. He was young and stouthearted. He might have loved Dorelei as she deserved.
Somehow, Phèdre managed to get Montrève's household off the ship with unobtrusive grace, mindful that they were peripheral to the occasion. Quiet greetings were exchanged, and even Alais was restrained.
We rode in procession through the city, winding toward the fortress. Drustan presented Berlik's skull to Talorcan, Dorelei's nearest male kin. I saw a shadow cross Talorcan's face as he accepted it. Kinadius was right, there was bitterness there. Still, Talorcan held it