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By Root 2667 0

In that instant, one instant, everything changed forever. I felt Phèdre's pulse give a startled leap under pressing thumb and I beheld her, for the first time, through my birthright as one of Kushiel's scions. Her eyes gazed at me, wide and dark, the scarlet mote floating on the left iris; the mark of Kushiel's Dart, a blood-pricked challenge. My blood surged in answer, roaring in my ears. I felt the abyss around me and knew I had never left it. I understood, in that instant, that the game I had played in Valerian House was nothing more than that, mortal and harmless. And I knew that to play them with Phèdre no Delaunay was to play with a god's chosen, capable of yielding in ways I could scarce imagine.

And I saw Phèdre knew it.

For a moment, neither of us moved, frozen by the knowledge. Then I thrust her away, hard, in the same instant she wrenched her wrist free. I took two steps and doubled over, vomiting onto the floor. Bile and stale brandy splattered my boots.

"Imriel…" Her footsteps sounded behind me.

"Stay away!" I braced one hand on my knees, holding up the other. Small braids hung over my eyes and curtained my face, obscuring my vision. "Leave me. Just… leave me alone."

"All right, love."

There was a world of sorrow in her voice. Phèdre had known; had always known. I waited until I heard her withdraw, then straightened and wiped my mouth, heading for the stairs and the sanctuary of my room.

The washbasin was full. I plunged my head into the cool water, then raised it, dripping. I stared into the mirror above the stand at a stranger's face. Phèdre was right, I looked fevered. My skin was pale, drawn tight over my cheekbones. My eyes were over-bright, blue and incandescent. Dripping braids framed my face like hundreds of linked chains.

I snarled and began to undo them.

It went too slow. The waxed thread Roshana had used was tightly knotted, and the heat of Valerian's dungeon had softened it, letting it cool and fuse. I worked at one, then another, without success, growing impatient. Giving up, I plucked one of my daggers from the sheath at my belt, sawing through the braid itself. I severed one after another, dropping them on the floor. There was a certain grim satisfaction in it.

"Your highness!" A gasp, and the sound of a dish rattling.

I turned, dagger in hand, to see Eugenie's niece Clory. She held a tray with a bowl of steaming broth. A bit had slopped over the sides. "Go away, Clory."

She looked terrified. "Eugenie said…"

I raised my voice. "Go away, Clory!"

She set down the tray on a nightstand and fled. I finished cutting off every last damned Shahrizai braid on my head, then sank down on the edge of my bed and put my face in my hands. I wanted to cry. I wanted to curse and rail against the gods.

I wanted the last day of my life back.

I wanted to be someone else.

Since none of it would do any good, I didn't. I picked up the bowl of broth Clory had brought and drank it down, then hurled the empty bowl onto the floor. It shattered in a spray of crockery shards. Dashing the back of my hand over my lips, I got up and went to do the only sensible thing I could think of.

"Imri!" Gilot leapt to his feet as I strode through the salon. "Where are you going?"

"Out," I said briefly.

"I'm going with you." Although his eyes were red-rimmed with weariness, his face was set and stubborn. He had good instincts, Gilot, waiting here for me.

I shrugged. "Suit yourself."

At the stable, Benoit looked at us with surprise, but he made no comment, saddling the Bastard and Gilot's mount and opening the gates for us. We rode out into the City of Elua. Gilot glanced at me. "Where are we bound, highness?"

"How many wineshops and inns does the City hold?" I asked him.

"Dozens," he said. "Why?"

"Because," I said grimly. "I mean to get blind, stinking drunk."

I met my goal that day.

I don't know how many places we visited. Some of them, like the Cockerel, I knew. But I found no respite there, or anywhere. We downed tankards of ale, jars of wine, and moved on to the next place, from Night's Doorstep to the heart