Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [268]
The braziers were unlit and the hypocaust that heated the private Tadeii baths was no longer stoked at any hour, another victim of Gallus' orders. I couldn't bear to submerge myself in the chilly waters, so I settled for scrubbing myself at the washbasin in my room, naked and shivering, dunking my head for good measure. A faint odor of canal water clung to my hair, but it would do. Thrusting aside the memory of Daršanga it evoked, I went to join the others.
It was almost a homey scene. Lunch was being served at a long table in one of the less formal dining rooms. Beatrice, Lucius and Claudia's mother, had emerged from seclusion. She seemed determined to impart a sense of normalcy to the household through sheer force of will. When I arrived, she rose from her chair at the head of the table and greeted me with a deep curtsy.
"Welcome, your highness," she said. "Forgive us our neglect."
I bowed in return. "My lady Beatrice, forgive me this imposition on your hospitality, for which I am most grateful." I smiled at her as I straightened. "And please, call me Imriel."
"Imriel." A dimple appeared and vanished as she smiled back at me. "Please join us."
The meal was simple; mutton in a thin sauce, black bread, and wild greens. As hungry as I was, it seemed a veritable feast. Beatrice apologized for it several times over. "It's not what you're accustomed to, I know," she said anxiously. "But there are… orders."
She didn't mention Gallus Tadius by name. It was hard for me to see what had befallen Lucius, who I reckoned a friend. I couldn't imagine how difficult it was for her. I'd only known him for a few months. She was his mother.
"My lady, it is delicious," I said truthfully. "And I am grateful for your generosity."
Her dimple returned. "You're too kind… Imriel."
On the other side of the table, seated beside her staid husband, Claudia Fulvia caught my eye and smiled with quiet amusement. She got her looks from her mother, at least in part. Both of them did, brother and sister. They had inherited Beatrice's dark red hair, thick and unruly, and a certain sense of luxuriance, of being comfortable in their flesh. But there was a rondeur to Beatrice; a soft, bustling plumpness that made one feel at once protective and at ease. Unlike her children, she had no hard edges.
That, I guessed, came from the Tadeii blood.
Beatrice worked gallantly to make us all feel welcome. She fussed over Eamonn until I half thought she was ready to adopt him as a son, and Brigitta… well. In her own mind, I nearly think she had adopted her.
"Oh, child!" She clapped her hands together and flushed with pleasure. "You should wed, the two of you! After all… after all, here we were, ready for a wedding."
Eamonn and Brigitta exchanged a considering glance.
"Why not?" Eamonn's sunniest, most infectious grin creased his face. "Aye, why not? What say you? Will you have me, lass?"
"Eamonn!" Brigitta tugged her blonde braids with both fists. "Where would we go? How would we live? What about… ?" She hesitated. "I have a family, I have duties. I shouldn't have come here; I wouldn't have, if I'd known. My six months are nearly gone. You know my brother Leidolf will come looking for me. Soon."
"Aye." He nodded. "In Tiberium, where he'll not find you."
"But…" She cast an imploring glance around the table, settling on Claudia. "You gave me wise counsel on our journey. What do you say, Lady Claudia?"
"In this matter?" Claudia raised her brows. "Oh, I believe the world defers to Terre d'Ange in matters of love, my dear. Isn't that so?" She addressed the last question to Deccus Fulvius, who rumbled good-natured agreement. With a hint of a smile, Claudia nodded at me. "What do you say, Prince Imriel?"
I stood up, and I looked at them, all of them. Deccus Fulvius with his open expression, doing me the courtesy of treating me as an equal, knowing so little. Claudia Fulvia with her smile, knowing too much, knowing how I wanted her. Beatrice Tadia, who knew nothing, nothing, her face alight with the hopeful pleasure