Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [55]
"Nothing," I said. "I've missed you, that's all." I hesitated. "Have you been avoiding the lot of us?"
"A little bit." Her face held a look of candor. "I thought it would be easier for you."
Mavros' words haunted me. I wonder and wonder. I looked away. "Why? Do you… think about them?"
"Your cousins?" Phèdre sounded surprised. "Not at their age!" She laughed. "I do have some measure of self-control, you know."
"Mavros is seventeen," I said.
"Yes, with a head full of a seventeen-year-old's thoughts, and a belly full of a seventeen-year-old's desires." She touched my cheek. "I know. He cannot help it, and the others are not far behind him. That's why I thought it would be easier this way."
"It scares me," I murmured. "I don't want… I don't want things to change."
"Ah, love. Life is full of change. Not all of it is bad." Phèdre tugged a lock of my hair, making me look at her once more. "Imriel no Montrève, you have a heart as true as an arrow's flight, and courage enough for ten. Whatever manner of man you will become, it will be a worthy and good one. Believe me, love, there is nothing in you that you need fear."
"There is, though," I whispered. "No." She shook her head. "Only shadows." "How can you be so sure?" I said.
Phèdre raised her brows. "You question the word of one who knows the Name of God?"
It made me laugh, as she intended. We did not jest about such matters; indeed, we seldom spoke of them, for they ran too deep for speech. But today, somehow, it was needful and right, reminding me of what we had shared together.
Rising, I stooped to kiss her cheek. "Thank you." Nothing had changed; and yet I felt better. I went to the kennels and spent time talking with Arms Labbé. He had helped me choose the pick of the spring's litter for Alais, a bitch-pup with lively brown eyes and a curious disposition. We discussed the finer points of training dogs. It pleased me to think of the wolfhound pup at Court, where lap-dogs were the order of the day. When this one was full-grown, she would stand nearly shoulder-height to Alais. I had brought an old chemise of Alais' with me, that the pup might get to know her scent.
Afterward, I sought out Joscelin and asked him to spar with me, which he did willingly.
I didn't bother to ask if he had been avoiding us; I knew full well that he had. If danger threatened, he would honor his vow. He was Phèdre's consort and the Queen's Champion; he would protect and serve. But so long as it did not, he would absent himself insofar as courtesy allowed. Out of consideration to me, he didn't flaunt his antipathy to the Shahrizai; yet he couldn't altogether hide it, either.
We had a good bout, one that left me dripping with sweat. First with the wooden daggers, then with the swords. I was handier with the latter. Something about the singularity of the weapon appealed to me. It cleared my mind, and I could perceive more acutely the spheres of defense and opposition in which we moved, back and forth, to and fro.
Somewhere in the middle of the bout, I heard the sound of the Shahrizai party returning. They were in high spirits. There was laughter and chatter, and I could hear Charles' and Katherine's voices among them. It gave me an unexpected pang of envy. I pushed it aside, focusing on my swordplay.
It worked, until Roshana and Katherine came into the garden to watch us.
I saw Joscelin's gaze flicker sideways, and missed a chance to attack him. I began to lower my wooden blade to greet the girls, and he pressed me harder, forcing me into a retreating defense. Anger stirred in me, and I fought back, circling around to get at his left side.
"You're right," Roshana whispered behind me. "He is quite good!"
That did it.
I put a foot wrong and