Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [61]
"Oh, Imri!" Alais' eyes shone. "Could I?”
"Of course." I made myself smile at her. "If your father allows it, I'd like nothing better.”
It was good, at least, that someone was joyous. And I was happy for her. Alais had never been truly at ease at Court and the Cruithne blood ran strongly in her. Back in the days when we spoke often together, she had wondered if she would feel more at home in Alba.
I hoped she would.
I knew I wouldn't.
In the days that followed, my sense of time's passage spun completely out of proportion. Minutes and hours dragged on to eternity, while days passed in the blink of an eye. The Palace was constantly a-bustle with preparations for the wedding. I was plagued on all sides with the demands of courtship that were expected of me, and I couldn't steal a moment alone with Sidonie.
Once, we encountered one another unexpectedly in the halls as I was escorting Dorelei from the audition of a renowned flautist in the Queen's quarters, one of the myriad musicians hoping to play at the wedding. He'd been nervous and played poorly. After he left, I'd declared that Hugues would have done a better job, and then had to explain to Dorelei who Hugues was. I was reciting some of his worst poetic verse to the accompaniment of her delighted laughter when it happened.
I stopped dead. For the space of a heartbeat, Sidonie and I stared at one another, Dorelei's laughter still ringing in the hallway. I clenched my fist, feeling the ring's bite.
"Well met, your highnesses," Amarante said quietly behind her mistress. Sidonie reached back and caught her hand, squeezing it hard enough to hurt. I knew, I could tell.
I said something; I don't know what. We passed and moved onward on our separate courses. Dorelei's slim brown fingers rested on my arm.
"They're very different for sisters, aren't they?" she observed. "Alais and Sidonie.”
"Yes," I said shortly.
"I like Alais," Dorelei mused. "Sidonie …she's like a house without a door. It's harder to see her as Drustan's daughter, there's so much of her mother in her. Very D'Angeline." She glanced up at me and lowered her voice. "Is it true that the Lady Amarante was brought here to instruct her in…in the bedchamber?”
I gritted my teeth. "Yes.”
Dorelei shook her head in wonderment. "That's what Alais said! I didn't believe it.”
"Why ever not?" I asked.
"I'm sorry." She flushed. "It's not our way, that's all. To teach such things as though they were a fit matter for study, to build pleasure-houses …I'm sorry, I've offended you.”
"No, no." I patted her hand. "I'm being rude, forgive me.”
"No, I was." Dorelei stole another glance at me. "Prince Imriel, please believe me, I'm not…that is, I look forward to our nuptials." Her flush deepened. "You do not find me as pleasing, I know. I'm sorry.”
I sighed, feeling horrible. "Oh, my lady! 'Tis untrue." I touched her cheek. "Mayhap you have heard," I said gently. "I was stolen as a child and forced to endure a difficult time." She nodded, her wide-set gaze fixed on mine. I had never, ever traded on my history for pity. Now I did, vile and deliberate. "Betimes it makes me cold," I said to her. "And I am sorry for it. But I will do my best to be a good husband to you.”
"I understand," Dorelei whispered. "You will, I know you will!”
It was all there in her adoring gaze, everything Sidonie had said. The reflection of myself, the yearning to heal, to be the one who made me whole. Too late, I wanted to say; too late. I'd already found it. I'd found it in the last place in the world anyone would expect, in the one person who'd never harbored any such desires.
I couldn't, though.
I patted her hand again. "My thanks, my lady. I will try.”
In the midst of all of it, with the wedding hurtling down on me like an avalanche, I had a private meeting with Drustan mab Necthana. I'd requested it at the reception