Kushiel's Mercy - Jacqueline Carey [135]
“So this is the chess-playing Cytheran D’Angeline.” Astegal studied me, then chuckled. “I suppose I must thank you for providing my wife with a harmless diversion. She has an impatient spirit.”
I bowed. “The pleasure was mine, my lord.”
“You’ll lodge at the palace, of course.” Astegal waved a careless hand. A gold knot glinted on one finger. “There’s ample room, and I fear Sidonie will find it no less idle here, at least until we come to terms with the rebels.”
Her brows rose. “Or you could do the sensible thing and leave me to administer New Carthage while you settle the matter.”
A muscle in Astegal’s jaw twitched. He smiled at Sidonie. “When the last rebel has surrendered, my dear, I will shower cities at your feet and you may administer them to your heart’s content. Until then, a man’s firmer hand is needed.”
“No one ever died of tedium, your highness,” I said lightly. Her quick gaze flicked to meet mine.
“I suppose not,” she said slowly.
So it was still there, gods be thanked. Her wits, her lingering fears and suspicions. I presented Sunjata to them, explaining my partnership in a business venture with the House of Philosir.
“Ah, yes.” Astegal’s gaze rested on Sunjata’s face for a few heartbeats. “Good old Jabnit’s assistant. You did us a good service as I recall.” He laid his hand on Sidonie’s shoulder, the ring glinting. “Do you remember the painting of gems I presented to your mother, my dear? The House of Philosir procured the gems.”
Sunjata bowed. “It was our honor.”
“I remember you,” Sidonie said to him.
Astegal’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “I’m sure you’re mistaken.”
“No.” She shot him a puzzled look. “You were with Messire Maignard, were you not?” she asked Sunjata. “On the street outside the villa.”
“Ah.” Although his reaction wasn’t visible, I could feel Sunjata relax beside me. “Yes, your highness. I was among your admirers.”
“Then you must come to the palace as well,” Astegal said smoothly. “My lady wife should be surrounded by admirers. Speak to the chamberlain; he will see to everything.”
With that, he turned away, taking Sidonie’s arm and steering her. I hoped she’d look back at me, but she didn’t. I forced myself to look away, willing myself not to show the hatred and jealousy raging inside me. Some yards away, I saw Justina winding her way toward us, attended by a pair of Aragonian servants.
She had been a pretty girl, and she’d grown into an attractive woman. Quick-witted and quick-tempered, I remembered. Dark hair and olive skin. Her mother had been a Hellene slave in the household of a Tiberian merchant, and she could pass for any one of a half dozen nationalities.
To my surprise, Justina spat at my feet.
“What brings a D’Angeline to New Carthage?” she demanded in flawless Aragonian. “Do you come to spy and mock for your traitorous Queen while Astegal sets her daughter over us?”
A few Aragonians in earshot murmured with approval. Others sought to hush her, glancing anxiously in Astegal’s direction. I was so astonished, I could barely frame a reply. “No, my lady,” I stammered in Aragonian. “I am D’Angeline in heritage only. I come as a citizen of Cythera, an emissary of my lord Ptolemy Solon.”
“Cythera!” Justina sneered. “What does Cythera want?”
“Peace, generally.” I took a deep breath. “My lady, I am Leander Maignard, and I will be lodging at the palace. If you will grant me the courtesy of an audience, I will be pleased to discuss how Cythera might be of assistance to Aragonia in this difficult time.” I smiled ruefully. “I fear we are an island with considerable experience in the matter of being conquered and occupied.”
“You’re blunt,” Justina said. “I’ll think on it.”
She flounced away. Sunjata and I gazed after her. “Well,” he said presently. “Welcome to New Carthage and a whole new set of intrigues.”
Thirty-Eight
Life in New Carthage was agonizing.
Astegal was generous in his hospitality. Sunjata and I were given a suite of rooms to share, with a servant’s chamber for Kratos. Space was found in the barracks for a