Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [34]
"Not long, no. Only until the spring, when I return to serve the Sultan." He glanced downward. "Is that a part of your costume, highness? It doesn't look like D'Angeline workmanship.”
"No," I said. "It was a gift from a fellow Cynic. It seemed fitting I wear it tonight.”
"I see." Diokles touched it lightly, tracing the edge. He nodded gravely. "Treasure it well. All gifts have merit.”
"Yes," I said. "They do.”
I wanted more from him; ah, Elua! I always wanted more. I wanted to wring his neck until he talked freely and openly, admitting himself a Guildsman without secretive insinuations, and I wanted to shake Phèdre until she stopped looking at Childric d'Essoms that way, and I wanted to punch d'Essoms for looking at her like a bird of prey eyeing a rabbit. I especially wanted to punch Barquiel L'Envers, who had stalked away from the table and was lounging against a column with an insouciant look on his face.
But none of it would avail anything.
"…like to see you," Childric d'Essoms was saying to Phèdre. "Although I suppose many things have changed in the years since Delaunay's anguissette became the Comtesse de Montrève.”
"A few, yes." Phèdre caught my eye. "Ah, Imri. Princess Alais was looking for you. Shall we—?”
"Please." I grabbed her arm and steered her unceremoniously away from d'Essoms. "Who is he?" I demanded when I had her alone.
"It's a long story." Phèdre closed her eyes briefly. The flush began to fade from her cheeks. "I'll tell you later." She opened her eyes and regarded me with a hint of amusement. "Love, listen. Believe it or not, I've managed to pass the Longest Night without betraying Joscelin for a very long time now. The last time I was with anyone else on this night…" She stopped, her color returning, and I knew with absolute certainty it had been my mother. Melisande.
A Kusheline party; a diamond and a velvet leash.
Trust me, Imri, you wouldn't have liked it.
"I know," I said.
"Well." Phèdre cleared her throat. "Joscelin honors Blessed Elua in his way, and I in mine. And none of that will change tonight. All right?”
"All right," I muttered.
"Good." She rubbed her arm where I'd grabbed her, looking absent for a moment. Beneath the crimson silk, I suspected there were bruises. "Now go see Alais, will you? She really is missing you.”
I found Alais amid a gaggle of attendants. At almost fifteen, she was old enough to have her own ladies-in-waiting; daughters of the peerage, nearly old enough to play the Game of Courtship in earnest. They giggled with one another, flirting and making eyes at the young noblemen. Alais looked lonely and forlorn in their midst.
"Hello, my lady." I bowed to her. "Joie to you on the Longest Night.”
"Imri!" Her expression brightened, dispelling my bad mood. "Where's your lamp? I thought you were supposed to have a lamp.”
"I left it on the table," I said, extending my hand. "All the better to dance with you, if you'll do me the honor.”
Her face glowed. "Of course.”
We took to the floor, moving smoothly among the myriad costumed couples. It struck me anew how much Alais had grown in the past year. She was a studious dancer, following my lead with care, as though she feared to do aught that might make her look foolish. In the past, she wouldn't have cared.
"You look beautiful tonight," I told her. She was clad as a forest sylph in dark winter hues, and her mask was adorned with ebony brambles, clusters of garnets gleaming like berries in her black curls.
"Do you think so?" Alais asked.
I nodded. "Truly.”
She turned her head. "Have you seen Sidonie?”
"Oh, yes." Out of the corner of my eye, a flash of gold. Mavros was talking to her. I prayed he kept his mouth shut. "Tell me, do you like your ladies-in-waiting?”
"Sometimes." Alais' tone was noncommittal. "It's different.”
"Why?”
She sighed. "You know.”
I did. It was different because she was half-Cruithne and looked it; because she was betrothed to an Alban prince and wouldn't be playing the Game of Courtship. Because she