Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [348]
"Elua, yes!" I said. "Home."
At the townhouse, it was mayhem all over again. There was a lieutenant of the Queen's Guard waiting on us. Eugenie hadn't known that we would go to the cemetery before returning to the townhouse—it had all happened so quickly—and she was beside herself with anxiety. I'd scarce gotten through the door when she seized me.
"Oh, you bad child!" she said, hugging and scolding me, while the lieutenant looked on with horrified amazement. Tears ran down her plump cheeks. "What took you so long?"
"Gilot," I said.
"Ah." Eugenie went quiet for a moment. "The poor lad. I'd forgotten."
The lieutenant cleared his throat. "Your highness? I'm Zacharel Clarence of her majesty's personal guard. I'm bidden to summon you to the Palace. Her majesty is most eager to see you."
"I'm sure she is." I gave Eugenie a kiss on the cheek and moved away. I gave Lieutenant Zacharel a friendly smile. "Tell her majesty that I will present myself on the morrow."
He blinked at me. "Pardon?"
"Tell her majesty that I will present myself at Court on the morrow," I repeated. I waited until he opened his mouth to protest. "Lieutenant, I've come a very long way, and I've just buried a man who died because he was loyal to me. I'm tired. I wish to spend the remainder of the day with my family." I gave the word a deliberate emphasis. "You've seen with your own eyes that I'm alive and well. Pray tell her majesty as much, and that I look forward to seeing her anon."
He stared at me for a moment, then glanced around. Phèdre met his gaze with a mild look. Ti-Philippe opened the door for him, bowing as if to usher him through it. Joscelin leaned against a wall, vambraced forearms folded over his chest.
"I'll… I'll tell her," the lieutenant said.
I inclined my head. "Thank you."
He left. For a moment, I nearly thought Phèdre would follow to offer some words to soften the message—she watched him go, her expression thoughtful—but she didn't.
Joscelin straightened and grinned at me. "And how did that feel?"
I smiled back at him, and knew he knew exactly how I felt. Good and proud, and a little bit foolish, too. Ysandre would pay dearly for Tiberium's aid in Lucca and I was grateful for it, but she was getting her money's worth. I'd agreed to her plans for Alba. It didn't meant I was placing myself at her beck and call. "It feels… ah, Elua!" I took a deep breath. "Good, mostly. And very, very good to be home."
It was a late night.
The story came out in bits and pieces. Everyone wanted to hear it, from Eugenie and Clory to Benoit the stable-lad, and certainly all of Gilot's comrades. With her usual grace, Phèdre acquiesced, inviting the entire household to dine with us. There was enough food prepared for a small army, a fact which I appreciated. One of the retainers—Marcel, who had known me for years—teased me at the dinner table.
"Are you sure you've got enough on your plate, your highness?" he asked. "I can still see the top of your head."
Eugenie glared at him. "Hush, you!"
I swallowed a succulent mouthful of roasted beef. "You'd have an appetite, too, if you'd spent weeks on Gallus Tadius' rations."
"Gallus Tadius?" Ti-Philippe frowned. "I was the Admiral's man, but wasn't there a Caerdicci warlord—?" He shook his head. "No, no mind. Old sailors swapping tales, that's all. He's long dead."
"Well, he was," I said.
Throughout the course of the dinner, and afterward in the salon, I told them about Lucca. About Helenas abduction, my haunted friend Lucius, the mundus manes and the broken mask in the lararium. Gallus Tadius. The battle for the gatehouse, Valpetra's hand.
Gilot's death.
I didn't try spinning a tale out of it, I just told them. Told them that what Gilot had done in the gatehouse had saved countless lives, mine included. How he was a hero after all.
Phèdre was quiet throughout my telling, sharing a couch with Joscelin. Truth be told, I would rather have been alone with them. I could have sat for hours without talking, just content to know I was here and they were here, all of us together.
But there was time.