Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [143]
"Many reasons," I said. "The foremost of which is me."
She looked at me sidelong. "Yes, I heard. You told Mother you weren't nice."
"I'm not," I said. "I try to be, but I'm not."
"Nice can be dull." Sidonie laughed at my expression. "Does that shock you? I'm a Queen's heir, Imriel. I've never been able to afford the luxury of niceness. And I have found, all too often, that a pleasant mask hides the face of ugliness."
I shook my head. "That's not what I mean."
"What, then?" she asked. "You've a good heart. For a long time, I didn't believe it. But I saw it the day you tried to protect me. And I've seen it in the way you treat Alais."
"Alais is different," I said.
"From what?" Her brows rose. "Me?"
I looked steadily at her, remembering the feel of her body beneath mine; remembering the adept in the private chambers of Valerian's dungeon. It was too easy to picture Sidonie the same way. Even now, I could envision taking her here in the orchard, destroying her cool composure. Pinning her wrists, feeling her writhe, golden hair splaying over the grass. Her fair skin bruised by the marks of my teeth and nails. "Yes," I said. "You."
Her chin rose. "I'm not afraid of you."
"You should be," I said. "You used to."
"Yes, and things have changed between us, haven't they?" Sidonie regarded me. "You swore an oath. Do you recant it?"
I let out my breath in a hiss. "No!"
"Then I have no cause for fear," she said.
I grabbed her upper arms, hard enough to bruise. "You don't know me," I said hoarsely. "You don't know what I'm capable of."
"Don't be so sure." She stood unmoving in my grip, chin tilted. Deep below the surface of her gaze, a nameless emotion flared. Dark eyes, Cruithne eyes, rendered strange and unfamiliar in her D'Angeline face. "I'm not a child, Imriel. I know you're Kushiel's scion. I know your House. And I know my own heritage, too. Do you forget that Kusheline blood flows in the veins of House L'Envers?"
I had forgotten.
For a moment, we stood motionless, both of us. I could feel my heart thudding in my chest, the blood throbbing in my veins. I could sense her breathing quicken. And I reminded myself that she was only sixteen, and nearly a sister to me.
I pushed her away. "Name of Elua, no!"
She stumbled on the grass, then caught herself and laughed wildly. "No? Then go ahead, cousin. Run! Invoke Blessed Elua's name. Why not? You didn't hesitate to do it before when I drew away. Run, run away from desire. Run away from responsibility. Run!"
I strode to the Bastard's side and unhitched his reins, swinging astride. "Stay," I said coldly, gazing down at her from the saddle. "Wed some pedigreed D'Angeline nobleman, take Maslin de Lombelon as a lover, do as you will. Stay. I wish you the joy of it."
Sidonie sobered. "I don't have a choice," she whispered. "Oh, Imriel! I never have."
I swallowed, feeling an ache in my heart. "I don't want to part like this."
"Nor do I." Bowing her head, she laid a hand on my stirrup, fingertips brushing the glossy leather of my boot. "Go," she murmured. "And may Blessed Elua hold you in his hand and keep you."
I nodded. "And you, my lady."
She looked up at me. "You made a promise to Alais. Keep it."
I'll come back.
I laid my clenched fist on my heart. "On my oath, I will."
I went, then, setting my heels hard into the Bastard's flanks. He blew out his breath, snorting through his nostrils. We cantered between the apple trees and I dared not look behind me, knowing she watched us go.
In my haste to depart, I nearly ran down a handful of the Queen's Guard.
They were idling on the outskirts of the orchard. I checked the Bastard hard. I saw Maslin de Lombelon a few paces away, conversing with a familiar figure. Their heads turned as we plunged to a halt. A stab of fury went through me, and I tasted bile.
"You're back," I said to Duc Barquiel L'Envers.
"And you're still here. I'd hoped to find the rumors true and you in Tiberium." He looked me over archly. "I like the hair."
Maslin had gone rigid. "What are you doing here?"