Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [135]
I shrugged and began dragging on my clothes. "I didn't have one of my own."
He raised his brows. "You're not supposed to need one."
"I know." I took a deep breath. "Mavros… it's not your fault. This, what happened here. You were right, it's a part of me, and I needed to confront it. There had to be a first time, and mayhap it won't be the last. The craving's in my blood. But I'm not like you. I can't play such games and call the fun. I can't escape the shadow of the past."
"That place," he said. "Daršanga."
"Daršanga." I pulled on one boot, then paused to rest. "Do you know, Phèdre once said that she would have given her signale there, were there ears to hear it."
"I'm sure she would have," he murmured.
I thought about the zenana, the women and boys who died there, their flesh rent and suppurating. I thought about kneeling in a puddle of the Mahrkagir's piss and my own bile, the foul taste of it in my mouth, the gouts of blood and Lilka's slit throat gaping. I put on my other boot and got to my feet, grabbing his arm for balance.
"You have no idea," I said.
"So you keep telling me." He steadied me. "We've taken care of the accounts and the patron-gifts. Are you ready to go home?"
I nodded my aching, braid-heavy head. "Please."
Outside, I felt a bit better. The bright sunlight and the City's clamor were jarring, but the fresh air cleared my head. I was glad to be astride the Bastard and riding, not cooped up in a carriage, and I thanked Gilot for waiting for me.
"Don't thank me," he said bluntly. "I did it for her ladyship. She worries."
Unease stirred in the pit of my belly. "I am of age, Gilot."
"Aye," he said. "That's what worries her."
Mavros rode with us, elegant and cheerful atop a tall black gelding. The others, I learned, had departed in the small hours of the morning, long after the Dowayne's guard had carted my unconscious self to the patrons' quarters. He had gone with his kindred and come back for me on his own.
"My thanks, Mavros," I said to him outside the gates of the town-house. "You're a good friend in your own right."
He grinned at me. "She was quite taken with you, you know."
I flushed. "Who?"
"The adept, Sephira." His grin broadened. "Even at Valerian House they do gossip, especially when they think we can't hear. An odd lad, with a streak of disarming sweetness. That's what she said." Gilot chuckled despite himself.
I thought about what I'd done to her and nearly choked. "Sweetness?" "In your own way." Mavros touched my arm. "Take care, cousin. If you've a need to speak, I've always an ear to hear."
I watched him ride away, a part of me envying him. The same blood flowed in our veins, the same dark desires plagued us. Would it be so bad to be able to carry it so lightly? After what I had seen, I was unsure. The adepts and patrons of Valerian House found unalloyed pleasure in what they were, honoring Blessed Elua's precept and basking in their own natures, free to enjoy the subtle exchanges of power. I was the one who did not fit.
"Imri." Gilot jerked his head toward the townhouse. "Let's go." The stable-keeper Benoit unlocked the gates to admit us, taking our mounts. I patted the Bastard on the neck as Benoit led him away, promising him a lively ride on the morrow when the cobwebs were gone from my head. Gilot and I entered the townhouse together. "Your highness!" Eugenie scolded me. "We were growing worried." "I'm fine, Eugenie." Her tone worsened my headache, irritating me. "Didn't Mavros send a message?"
"Yes, but…" She bit her tongue. "I'll tell her ladyship you're here." Phèdre appeared in the doorway behind her. "Thank you, Eugenie. There's no need." She moved past her Mistress of the Household, tilting her head and regarding me, a concerned crease between her brows. "Are you all right, love? You left Roxanne's fete with scarce a word."
It seemed like so long ago, I'd nearly forgotten. "I'm fine," I repeated shortly. "Tired, that's all. I'll talk to you later." "You look fevered." Her frown deepened. "Let me see." I grabbed her wrist as she reached for my brow. "I'm fine!"