Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [17]
Barquiel L'Envers raised his eyebrows.
"I understand," I said to the Queen, ignoring him.
"Good." Ysandre nodded. "I wish you to know, also, that we do not share this suspicion. The throne of Terre d'Ange stands behind you, privately and publicly."
To my annoyance, I felt tears sting my eyes. For the first time, I caught a glimpse of the courage and nobility in Ysandre that inspired such loyalty in those I loved. Once again, I had to look away. "Thank you, my lady."
"No thanks are needed," she said. "But there may be duties in the bargain. You are a Prince of the Blood and a member of House Courcel. There are those who should be reminded of this." The Queen of Terre d'Ange stood, and we all stood with her. "We will speak more of this anon," she said to me, and to Phèdre and Joscelin, "You will abide in the City of Elua?"
Joscelin gave his sweeping Cassiline bow, arms crossed.
"We will, my lady," Phèdre said.
With that, the Queen dismissed us. It was a quiet ride back to the townhouse. What Phèdre was thinking, I could not guess. Joscelin looked stoic. I reached over and squeezed his hand in silent thanks. He gave me a brief nod and the hint of a smile, and I felt better.
In the small courtyard at the front of the house, our outriders dismounted and the stable-keeper Benoit came to unhitch the carriage horses. It was crowded with all of us present and so much horseflesh milling around. Benoit squeezed past one of his charges as Phèdre made her way toward the door.
"My lady," he called. "A man came while you were gone and gave me somewhat for you."
Phèdre turned. "What man?"
Benoit shrugged. "He wouldn't say, so I didn't open the gate to him. He handed me this through the portal and said it was for you. Then he left." Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a small parcel wrapped in oilskin and tied with twine. "Here."
"Ah, Blessed Elua," Joscelin muttered. "Not again."
"Should I not have taken it?" Benoit asked anxiously. "I didn't let him in."
"No, that's fine, you did right." Phèdre took the parcel and caught Ti-Philippe's eye. He nodded and beckoned to Gilot and the others. "Benoit, tell Philippe exactly what the man looked like. How tall, how old, the color of his hair, what he was wearing—everything you can remember. Did you see which way he went?"
"No." He sounded miserable. "Sorry, my lady."
"That's all right. Just tell Philippe everything you can remember." She glanced at Joscelin with a trace of defiancé. "We do have to look."
He crossed his arms. "You'll notify the Captain of the City Guard," he said to Ti-Philippe. "Not that I expect it will do much good."
"Yes." Ti-Philippe looked a trifle bemused. "Notify him of what, exactly?"
Joscelin eyed the parcel in Phèdre's hand as though it were a live adder. "I've no idea, but we're about to find out."
With careful fingers, Phèdre untied the knots that bound the parcel and unwrapped it. Inside the oilskin wrapping was a velvet pouch with a drawstring. She opened it and spilled the contents into the palm of her hand.
Gilot gave a low whistle.
It was a large diamond, strung on a length of black velvet cord, old and worn, fraying at the ends. Phèdre stared at it without speaking, her eyes wide and dark. There was a slip of parchment caught in the mouth of the pouch. She withdrew it, smoothed it flat, and read what was written on it.
"Is it signed?" Gilot asked.
"No," she murmured. "It didn't need to be."
"Well, what does it say?"
She looked up. "'I keep my promises."
* * *
Chapter Four
They found the messenger in a wineshop that day, deep in his cups, and learned that a stranger had paid him a gold ducat to deliver the parcel. All he could say was that the man wasn't D'Angeline. From there, although they searched the City, the trail went cold.
I learned the story from Gilot, who had it from Ti-Philippe. The diamond had been a patron-gift from my mother, long ago. Phèdre had worn it until the day she gave the