Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [124]
"I do dream true dreams." Her jaw set. "And you haven't even asked after Celeste."
I knelt humbly before her. "Forgive me. How is she?"
"Well enough." Her face softened. "You saved her, Imri."
"That's me." I stood lightly. "Savior of dogs, defender against deer. A right and proper hero of the realm."
"Yes." Alais regarded me. "That's you."
Though it seemed endless, in time, the Queen and Cruarch dismissed us. The carriage-ride to the townhouse was fraught with silence. Joscelin and I exchanged glances, both of us silent and wondering.
"Well?" he said at length. "Do you mean to divulge, love?"
Phèdre's gaze rested gently on me. "You can guess as well as I. If this is some machination of Ysandre's, she's not taken me into her confidence."
"What about the letter?" I asked bluntly. "What's that about?"
"Bérèngere's letter." She smiled, absentminded and distant. "Do you know, she was an acolyte when I was first dedicated to Naamah's Service. I remember. I knew her later, when she rose to head Naamah's Temple here in the City. We worked together, she and I. And now she's the head of the order." Phèdre touched her bodice, where the letter was concealed. "I've no idea what it contains," she said. "I've not read it yet."
Joscelin eyed her, wry and knowing. "Oh, you've plenty of ideas."
She leaned forward to kiss him. "A few."
We returned to the townhouse, where Phèdre cracked the seal on Bérèngere's letter and read it. She tossed it silently onto the low table. Joscelin read it, and I read it after him.
Both of us swore.
"What do you mean to do?" Joscelin asked her.
Phèdre shook her head. "It's not my decision," she said. "Imriel's of age. It's his choice to make."
I was angry, angry enough that it was hard to think. I paced the room in a fury. "I'll challenge him," I spat. "On his honor, what little he's got of it!"
"Or," Phèdre said mildly, "you could speak to Ysandre."
"Ysandre!" I laughed. "For all we know, this is her doing!"
"No." Something adamant surfaced in her gaze. "The other, mayhap. Not this."
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to dispel the image of Barquiel L'Envers pleading for mercy at the point of my blade. "All right." I pressed the heels of my hands against my lids. "All right. I'll speak to the Queen."
"Wise choice," Joscelin murmured.
"Will you come with me?" I lowered my hands. "I'd rather not do this without counsel."
Phèdre nodded. "Of course."
On the morrow, Ysandre met with us in her private chambers, rearranging her schedule with alacrity to accommodate our request. I daresay she thought she knew what it was regarding. Drustan was there, too; no one else, not even a guard. Two days ago, that indicator of her trust would have cheered me. Today, I was still too furious to care.
She saw the anger in my face and confronted it in a straightforward manner. "Imriel, hear me out. No doubt you've guessed that we wished for you to meet Talorcan's sister, Dorelei mab Breidaia. Before you leap to conclusions in this matter, Drustan and I would like you to hear our thoughts—"
I handed her the letter that implicated Duc Barquiel L'Envers in a plot to bring suspicion of treason against me. "Read this."
Ysandre stared blankly at me, too astonished by my tone to take offense at it.
"My lady." Phèdre sounded apologetic. "I think you should."
She did. I watched her face turn pale as she read. When she finished, she set the letter aside and sighed. "Barquiel."
"What has he done?" Drustan asked.
"He tried to make me out a traitor," I said grimly. "Did a good job of it, too."
The Cruarch looked unwontedly perplexed. "I don't understand."
"The letter is from Bérèngere of Namarre, my lord," Phèdre said. "The head of Naamah's Order. I asked her aid. Five days ago, a courtesan in the city of Valtrice reported an assignation with a young man who boasted of a dangerous task he performed for his lord. He is a member of Duc Barquiel's household."
"Are you sure?" Drustan frowned. "A dangerous task could be many things."
"The lad had