Kushiel's Mercy - Jacqueline Carey [247]
If the captain harbored any doubts, those words erased them—that, and the unfeigned emotion behind them. She didn’t have to pretend. All of the very real grief and fury at what had befallen Terre d’Ange was there.
“Lower the chain!” the captain shouted. “Send to the Palace! Tell them the Dauphine has returned! Now!”
Unseen gears ground somewhere ashore. The mammoth chain sank beneath the waters. Our would-be adversary became our escort as the galley swung back around to precede us into the harbor. As our progress resumed, Sidonie stood motionless, her black cloak hanging in folds around her. The garment that had served as a tool of concealment now appeared a badge of mourning.
Our oarsmen bent their backs. The barge slid past the white walls.
We entered the City of Elua.
I couldn’t sense any immediate change, but I saw Sidonie’s shoulders tighten and I knew the pain had gotten worse. I prayed that was all it was. “Are you all right?” I asked under my breath.
She nodded without turning. “Thus far.”
Gods, it was hard not to go to her, to offer the simple comfort of my presence. To share the burden. But I couldn’t, or at least Sidonie couldn’t accept it if I did. Not with the eyes of the City watching.
So I didn’t.
The response to the galley captain’s order had been swift. By the time we were docked at the wharf, there was a royal escort awaiting us: a company of soldiers led by Ghislain nó Trevalion himself. His broad, good-natured face was set in harsh lines. And unlike the galley captain, Ghislain noticed me immediately as we disembarked, his eyes widening in shock. “You!”
“Have no fear, my lord,” Sidonie said. “He’s no danger.”
Ghislain’s face darkened, but he proffered a bow. “We will see, your highness. I would welcome you home, but I fear your return portends ill.”
“Yes.” She met his gaze squarely. “I need to speak to my mother. Immediately. Is my father in residence?”
“He is.”
She nodded. “So much the better. Take me to them, please.”
There was a carriage with the insignia of House Courcel waiting. When I made to follow Sidonie into it, Ghislain caught my arm. “I think it best if you ride, Prince Imriel.”
“My lord Ghislain!” Sidonie’s voice was sharp. “I tell you, it’s fine. Imriel labors under the delusion that he’s enamored of me. It is inconvenient, but he poses no threat.” She pointed to Kratos. “And Kratos here is . . . was . . . my lord Astegal’s most trusted and loyal bodyguard. No harm will come to me while he is present.”
Kratos folded his arms and looked impassive.
Ghislain hesitated, then shrugged. “As you will.”
Inside the carriage, we sat in silence for most of the ride. Unlike the rest of Terre d’Ange, the City of Elua was abuzz. People thronged the streets, staring as our entourage passed. But there were no greetings shouted, only a rising tide of speculation. It held an edge of anger that made my skin prickle.
“Feels like a hornets’ nest,” Kratos muttered. “This isn’t how I imagined one of the great cities of Terre d’Ange.”
“It’s not how it is.” Sidonie glanced at him, pain in her eyes. “All that you will see and hear in these days . . . it’s a lie, a foul lie wrought by Bodeshmun’s magic. I beg you to believe me.”
“I do,” he said gently.
And then there was no more time for talk. We clattered into the courtyard of the Palace. There were more guards on duty than I ever remembered seeing, and the ostlers who came to attend to mounts and carriage-horses worked with martial efficiency.
“This way.” Ghislain snapped his fingers and his men formed a cordon around us, ushering us into the Palace.
It was another moment come around full circle. Members of the Court turned out to stare, wondering at Sidonie’s unexpected return, wondering at my unexpected presence. There were hard-eyed guards posted everywhere. When we passed the Hall of Games, there was a scuffle taking place. A woman’s voice rose to a shriek, haranguing some unseen companion with accusations of cheating. It should have been a shocking breach