Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [184]
"Helena." Lucius permitted himself a tight smile. "Helena Correggio da Lucca. If her father consents, the wedding will take place later in the summer. You'll all be welcome as my guests, of course."
"Do you think he will?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. "I think so. Domenico Martelli, the Duke of Valpetra—the suitor I mentioned—has grown impatient. Overbearing, one might say. It's clear he's got designs on Lucca itself, and not just Helena. I suspect Gaetano Correggio will be glad of an excuse to tell him no."
"Well," I said. "Congratulations." I hesitated, and lowered my voice. Eamonn and Brigitta had resumed their own conversation and were paying little interest. "Has it improved matters with the dead?"
"Oddly enough, it has." With a self-deprecating twist of his lips, Lucius tapped his temples. "I hate to admit it, but the old bastard's been quiet since I sent off the missive. Not a ghost in sight, not a rant to be heard." He raised his cup. "Here's to peace and quiet in the confines of one's own skull."
"Indeed," I murmured.
"What's your family like, Montrève?" he asked curiously. "Any ghosts?"
"Only living ones," I said, thinking of my mother, then waved my hand in quick dismissal when Lucius gave me a sharp look. "Pay me no heed, I'm short of sleep. My family, they're…" I paused, words failing me.
"Oh, they're very beautiful!" Eamonn interceded helpfully.
"Naturally," Lucius said in a dry tone.
"No, it's true." He grinned. "Even in Terre d'Ange, because they're kind, too. Both her ladyship and her consort. She taught me to speak Caerdicci, you know. She spent hours teaching me, and she was so kind and patient. And even though they're welcome at Court, they don't put on insufferable airs like most D'Angelines. Sorry, Imri," he added, glancing at me.
I sighed. "I know."
"Her consort!" Lucius raised his brows. "She's not wed, then?"
"No," I said. "They never married."
"Why?" he asked.
I glanced at Eamonn, who shrugged. I was on my own with this query. "It's a long story," I said, temporizing. "Look, Lucius, we don't do things the way you do here in Caerdicca Unitas. Women are eligible to inherit as full-fledged heirs. They're free to take lovers outside the bounds of marriage. There are reasons," I added haughtily, "that we put on airs."
Lucius snorted into his winecup.
"It's not funny." Brigitta scowled at him. "In Skaldia, too, women are treated with greater respect than you Caerdicci do."
"Alba, too, and Eire." Eamonn leaned back in his chair, stretching out his long legs. He was enjoying Lucius' discomfort. "My mother Grainne is the Lady of the Dalriada. With one word, she can send our people to war."
"Do not remind me," Brigitta muttered.
He smiled sidelong at her. "We did not start it, lady."
"All right!" Lucius raised his hands in surrender. "Yes, I'm willing to own that Caerdicci law is unfair to women. I'm certain Master Piero would agree. But I did not make the laws, and I am bound by them."
"You could change them," I suggested. "As Prince of Lucca, at any rate. Don't all the city-states maintain their own charters?"
Lucius shot me an annoyed look. "Yes. Yes, they do." He raked his hands through his unruly curls. The sight gave me an involuntary tremor, as though the shadow of his sister was present. Truly, I was haunted by the living. "And if I ever become Prince of Lucca," he said to Brigitta, "I will give the matter due consideration. Does that please you?"
She smiled at him. "Yes, thank you."
With the conversation steered onto less risky ground, I agreed to stay for another jug. Either the wine and my brief nap had restored me somewhat, or I'd travelled clear through my own exhaustion and come out the other side of it. Betimes, that can happen. When Phèdre and Joscelin and I rowed all through the night to Kapporeth, I had reckoned myself exhausted; but when Hanoch's men caught us and made to give battle, a ferocious energy had coursed through my veins. This was altogether different, but whatever the reason, I no longer felt