Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [232]
"About Claudia?"
"No." Eamonn grinned at me. "About you, your highness."
"You trust her?" I asked.
"Aye, I do," he said simply.
I thought about it. "Give me a couple days to talk to Lucius. And mind, while I've come to terms with the fact that I can't hide from who I am, I'd rather not have it noised about, either. At this point, it would just be compounding folly." I laughed. "You don't suppose she'll want to stab me through the heart for the honor of Skaldia once she knows, do you?"
Eamonn pursed his lips. "I don't think so."
It was another day before I had a chance to speak to Lucius. A message arrived from the Temple of Asclepius that Gilot was ready to come home. He had derived as much benefit as he could from their healing skills; from this point onward, only time and rest would help. I went to the market with Anna that morning, and we purchased an array of cushions and thick bolster pillows to make him more comfortable.
Her daughter Belinda accompanied us. She swung on her mother's skirts and chattered incessantly, no longer shy of me. I laughed when a mortified Anna tried to hush her.
"I don't mind," I said. "I used to know a little girl much like her."
"At the Palace?" she asked, then flushed to the roots of her hair. "Oh!"
"It's all right," I said gently. "Gilot told you, I know. Just don't speak of it in public. But no, it was at the sanctuary where I grew up. Her name was Honore," I said to Belinda. "I taught her how to climb trees when she was only five years old. Have you ever climbed a tree?" She gazed at me with wide eyes and shook her head. "Well, mayhap I'll teach you, when you're older." I smiled at her. "Only a little one to start. And no honey trees, Belinda. That's where the bees live."
"I like honey," she said solemnly.
"Oh, so do I. But you have to be very careful, or the bees will get angry that you're stealing their honey." I made a buzzing sound and snaked one hand through the air, landing to give her plump cheek a soft tweak that made her giggle. "And if you get stung, we'll have to slather you in mud," I added, provoking a fresh fit of mirth. "All mud, head to toe."
Anna regarded me with astonishment. "You're very good with her."
I smiled wryly. "You needn't be so surprised."
She flushed anew. "No! It's just… I think you have a kind heart, that's all. And I begin to see why… why Gilot won't leave you, even though he grumbles."
I nearly made a self-deprecating comment, then caught myself. "Thank you," I said sincerely. "It's good of you to say so."
We fetched Gilot home that afternoon, and he did grumble. He grumbled about the ungainly splint on his right hand, his own slow-moving progress and general uselessness. He grumbled when I made him ride in a hired litter, and when we propped him up on his pallet he grumbled about the cushions being like a damned pasha's boudoir. And then he fell asleep, exhausted. His face looked thin and worn, still faintly discolored around the eyes.
"He's so beautiful," Anna whispered, stroking the hair from his brow.
I perched on a chair, watching them. "Yes."
"Listen to me, saying that to you" Her soft laugh caught in her throat. "But you're like something out of a picture or a song, and he's… he's just Gilot. I can touch him, I can hold him. I never thought I'd feel that again, not like this." She bowed her head, but not before I saw the sheen of tears on her cheek. "Do you think he'll be all right?" she asked in a low tone.
"I don't know, Anna," I said honestly. "I hope so. But it will be difficult. He was a swordsman. It's all he's ever known, ever since he came of age and joined Phèdre's service. I promise, he'll want for naught. But he's going to need you, you and Belinda, to give him a reason to live."
She was still for a moment, then gathered herself, wiping her eyes. "Belinda. Forgive me, my lord. We're imposing. I'll take her home."
Belinda was sound asleep on my pallet, thumb in her mouth.
"Will she take a fright if she wakes here?" I asked. Anna shook her head. "Then stay." I rose. "I'll find lodging