Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [328]
There was time, and time was a luxury.
We reveled in it, and in each other.
In the morning, Sidonie and I went to watch the coastline of Terre d'Ange appear on the horizon. A pair of her guards trailed us at a discreet distance, but no one disturbed us. The night's chill still hung in the air. I stood behind her in the prow of the ship, my cloak wrapped around us both, gazing over her shoulder.
The last time I'd left Alba, I'd wept. I'd felt numb at the sight of home. Now it was all different. There was still sorrow. There would always be sorrow. I bore scars that would never let me forget what had happened at Clunderry. But for once in my life—for the first time I could remember since I was a child—despite the difficulties that lay ahead of us, there was a calm, abiding sense of peace.
Pointe des Soeurs beckoned in the distance. The rising sun sparkled on the wavelets. Gulls circled the topmast, squalling. The world was a good place.
"What are you thinking?" I murmured in Sidonie's ear.
"Too many things I'd rather not yet." She shifted. "Ask me somewhat silly and banal.”
"All right." I tightened my arms around her. "Was Maslin a good lover?”
Her cheek curved in a faint smile. "Somewhat else.”
"Aha!" I grinned. "All right, then. Do you think Amarante will return when she completes her year's service to Naamah and takes her vows?”
"I hope so." Sidonie leaned back against me. "I promised I'd see a new temple dedicated to Naamah if she did." I peered around at her, and she glanced up with amusement. "I know its not the most politically astute gesture, but what's the point of being the Dauphine if you can't do that sort of thing? In a year's time, I hope matters will be more settled. And at least as a priestess serving in a temple, she wouldn't have to deal with D'Angeline lordlings in a snit claiming she's naught but a Court attendant enjoying royal favoritism.”
I winced, recognizing my own words. "She told you that?”
Sidonie shook her head. "Mavros did, trying to stir trouble.”
"Did it work?" I asked.
"What do you think?" she said equably. "I knew why you were in a foul mood those days. I was, too. I think he was just bored and anxious on your behalf. It makes him contrary." She was silent a moment. "I'm glad you didn't inherit that particular streak of Shahrizai perversity.”
I smiled wryly. "An endless penchant for games?”
She nodded. "I trust you. I couldn't if you weren't who you are.”
A few strands of golden hair blew across my face. I freed one hand to tuck them under a jeweled hair clip. "Betimes I wonder," I mused. "How much of it is me and how much of it is that which shaped me? Is it House Courcel's bloodline with its stubborn—albeit occasionally misguided—sense of honor? Abhorrence of my mother's deeds? What I witnessed in Daršanga? Phèdre and Joscelin's influence?”
Sidonie turned to look into my face. "Does it matter? You are who you are. I love you.”
"Then it doesn't matter." I kissed her. "And I love you.”
"Of course…" Her black eyes sparkled when I lifted my head. "I do expect a certain amount of perversity.”
"Oh, yes." I traced her lower lip with my thumb. "The part where I do wonderful, horrible things to your helpless body." A steady pulse of desire beat in my veins, at once tender, predatory, and languorous, somehow all the more intense for knowing I had the patience to wait for its fulfillment. "Someday, love, we'll have to figure out what tangled Kusheline bloodline runs in House L'Envers' heritage to manifest in this way.”
Sidonie laughed; that unexpected, buoyant laugh that had turned my world upside down three years ago. "Do you care?”
I kissed her