Kushiel's Mercy - Jacqueline Carey [6]
Still, she was the Queen, and a very good one.
“We—” She paused, then continued, her voice firm. “I wish to thank you for avenging the death of my husband’s blood-kin. I wish to tell you that Drustan, that the Cruarch of Alba, sent a letter commending you for your courage and persistence. We are both grateful to know that the spirit of Dorelei mab Breidaia will rest peacefully thanks to your efforts.”
“As am I,” I said quietly. “She was my wife. She would have been the mother of my son. I pray they are both at peace.”
The Secretary of the Presence recorded our words, her pen scratching softly on paper. I gazed at Ysandre. Sidonie had inherited her mother’s fairness, although Ysandre’s hair was a paler hue. She had inherited her mother’s cool, reserved beauty. But she had not inherited a kingdom on the verge of being invaded and conquered due to the treachery of Melisande Shahrizai.
Ysandre inclined her head. “You may go.”
I spread my hands. “Your majesty . . .”
Her expression hardened. “We will discuss the other matter at a later date. There will be a Priest of Elua seeking an audience with you to discuss these things. I recommend you grant it.”
I opened my mouth to make a reply or an appeal, then thought better of it and inclined my head. “Of course, your majesty.”
With that, I was dismissed.
Outside of Ysandre’s quarters, I leaned against the wall and exhaled hard. Ah, Elua! Love shouldn’t have to be so hard.
“Prince Imriel?” a cheerful voice asked. I squinted at the speaker. One of Sidonie’s guardsmen, a short, wiry lad with dark hair. He grinned at me. “That bad, eh? Her highness sent me to fetch you.”
“That’s the best news I’ve had all day,” I said.
His grin widened. “Thought you might think so.”
The guard, whose name was Alfonse, led me to Sidonie’s quarters. It was the first time I’d entered them openly as her acknowledged lover, and it felt strange. I half expected to be halted. But no; Sidonie’s guard was loyal, and it seemed Ysandre wasn’t minded to intervene, at least not overtly, not yet. I suspected it had little to do with tolerance for the situation, and more to do with fear of driving Sidonie into open rebellion.
Sidonie’s rooms were larger and finer than my own. There was an abundance of candles lit against the encroaching darkness. Covered platters sat on the dining table, and the succulent aromas seeping from beneath the domes made me realize I was hungry.
“I hope you don’t mind.” Sidonie, seated on a couch, set down the sheaf of letters she was reading. “I thought it might be nicer to dine in my chambers than face the gawking horde on our first night.”
“It’s perfect,” I said. “And I’m ravenous.”
“Mmm.” She rose with deft grace. “How was Mother?”
“Cordial.” I caught her hand. “How did you find her?”
Sidonie kissed my throat. “Formal.”
I ran a lock of her hair through my fingers. “She wants me to speak to a Priest of Elua.”
She nodded. “I told you I’d been working to gain the support of the priesthood while you were gone. If they’re convinced that what’s between us is genuine, it will make it harder for her to oppose it.”
“And I’m to convince them? Seems I’m expected to do a good deal of convincing these days.” I traced the line of her brows, so similar to my own. “What of you?”
“Oh, I’ve already done my part, at least with the priesthood.” Sidonie turned her head to kiss my palm, then smiled at me. “They’re sure of me. Now it falls to you to convince them that this isn’t part of an evil scheme to gain the throne by seducing me and winning my heart.” She took my hand in hers, kissing the tips of my fingers.
The pulse of desire quickened in me. “Anyone fool enough to think that doesn’t know you very well,” I said, my voice