Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [44]
He was so impossible I had to laugh. "Mavros, truly. I need you to be discreet.”
"As the grave," he agreed. "Will you tell me if I promise not to breathe a word?”
"Swear it," I said.
Mavros raised his hand promptly. "In Kushiel's name.”
I glanced around. "Not here.”
We went to Lord Sacriphant's townhouse. Mavros' father wasn't in residence, and Mavros, who liked the City rather better than many of my Shahrizai kin, had the run of it. Truth be told, the place made me uneasy. It was very elegant and the servants moved about with hushed grace. They seemed to have pride in serving House Shahrizai, but one couldn't help but wonder what penalties were levied on them for disobedience or failure.
Or at least I couldn't. The first time I'd been here, Mavros had gotten me stinking drunk and taken me to Valerian House, where the Shahrizai reserved a private dungeon. The memory of that excursion still made me squirm with pleasure and unease.
Come to think on it, I'd been chafing over Sidonie that night, too. That was shortly after things had first changed between us, and Mavros was still the only person I'd told. Despite his teasing, he was a good listener and I trusted him; or at least I did in this.
He listened without comment while I told him an abbreviated version of what had transpired, leaving out the more embarrassing bits.
When I had finished, he raised his brows. "You really didn't think about how this might appear?”
"Well, yes," I said. "But not as—”
"Conspiracy?" he suggested. I nodded. Mavros steepled his fingers, tapping his lips in thought. "You do have a certain naïve charm, cousin. One thing in the realm I daresay everyone could agree on is the fact that Melisande Shahrizai's laughter would ring to the heavens if she learned her son had managed to seduce Ysandre's heir.”
"It's not like that," I said miserably.
"No, it's not, is it?" There was sympathy in his gaze. "Do you want my advice?”
"Please.”
"Too bad," he said. "Because I don't have any.”
"Mavros!”
"All right." He smiled wryly. "My best advice is to make an end of it, because if you're caught—and the odds are you will be—there'll be an unholy uproar and Barquiel L'Envers will want your blood. But…" He shrugged. "This itch has plagued you for a long time. The lady knows her mind and at least she's a better sense of the danger involved than you do. If you're minded to pursue it, in Elua's name, be careful. It's only a few months, and then you'll be packed off to Alba with your Cruithne bride.”
"I know," I murmured.
"Second thoughts?”
I glanced sharply at him. "Don't tempt me.”
On the ride home, I thought about Sidonie and the risk involved; bruised hearts at best and accusations of treason at worst. And I thought about my impending marriage and all the fine advice about duty and honor I'd given Lucius Tadius da Lucca, whose situation mirrored my own. I'd resolved to take my own advice when I made the decision to come home. I would do my duty to Terre d'Ange and House Courcel.
My resolve strengthened on the ride. Mavros was right, I should make an end of it. There was no future in it for Sidonie or me. Like as not she was right, and it was little more than the lure of the forbidden that goaded us. I was bound for Alba, and if it wasn't the choice I might have made with my life, it was one that would atone for all the choices my mother had made. In the meantime, I had no business sowing the seeds of chaos.
"I'll end it," I said aloud to the Bastard's flicking ears. "I will.”
The Bastard snorted, as well he should.
For all my bold words, my resolve began to falter the following day, the instant I saw Amarante of Namarre waiting for me outside the ollamh's study. In her bedchamber, Sidonie was gazing out the window, standing in a shaft of light. She turned as we entered, smiling at me with unreserved happiness. My heart leapt in my breast, and my resolve crumbled into a thousand meaningless pieces.
"Imriel." She did linger over my name this time.
I bowed to her. "Sun Princess.”
It made her laugh,