Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [6]
There were a few good-natured cheers and shouts of greeting as we arrived, which Phèdre acknowledged with a laughing salute. She was always gracious that way, and well-loved because of it. We tethered our mounts at the picket line and Joscelin gave a few coins to the village lads who hung about to attend them.
Ti-Philippe and the others remained mounted. "I'll take Hugues and Colin and ride a quick circuit," he said to Joscelin, who gave a brief nod in reply. "Marcel and the others will cast an eye over the fair proper."
I hated hearing that sort of thing. It cast a pall over the day's brightness, knowing it was because of me. Queen Ysandre was insistent that my security was paramount, and a fair brought strangers into the area. They were only being cautious; but still, I hated it.
Joscelin eyed me, noting my expression. "Take heart," he said wryly. "When you come of age, you'll be free to take all the risks you like."
"Four years!" I protested. "It's forever."
A corner of his mouth twitched. "You think so?" He tousled my hair lightly. I hated when almost anyone else did it—I didn't like people touching me—but my heart always gave a secret leap of happiness when Phèdre or Joscelin did. "It won't seem it, I promise." He glanced at Phèdre then, and something passed between them; a shared and private understanding.
There are those who laugh at their union, although not many. Not now, after all they have endured together. It's true, though. 'Tis an unlikely pairing, Kushiel's Chosen and a Servant of Naamah in love with a Cassiline warrior-priest.
Phèdre was a courtesan, sworn to the service of Blessed Elua's Companion Naamah, who gave herself to the King of Persis to win Elua's freedom, and who lay down in the stews of Bhodistan with strangers that he might eat. It is a sacred calling in Terre d'Ange, though it is not one practiced by many peers of the realm. But Phèdre was a Servant of Naamah long before she inherited Delaunay's title and estate, and although she has not practiced it since Daršanga, she has never renounced Naamah's Service.
And Joscelin—Joscelin was a Cassiline Brother when they met, although he left the Brotherhood for her sake. From the age of ten, he was trained to be a warrior-priest, sworn to celibacy. Alone among the Companions, Cassiel claimed no territory in Terre d'Ange and begot no offspring, but remained ever at Blessed Elua's side. That is the vow of the Cassiline Brotherhood: To protect and serve.
The Cassilines are very good at what they do; but Joscelin, I think, is better.
"What will you, love?" he asked Phèdre, indicating the fair with the sweep of an arm. His steel vambraces glinted in the sun. "Pleasure or the duties of the manor? The Tsingani or the Friotes?"
"Ah, well." She cocked her head. "We could glance at the fabric stalls on the way to either one. If there's aught of interest, it won't last long."
I groaned inside. I hated looking at fabric.
Although I made no audible sound, Phèdre's gaze settled on me, dark and unnerving. Her eyes were beautiful, deep and lustrous as forest pools, with a mote of scarlet floating on the left iris, vivid as a rose petal. And she was capable of a look that saw right through one. There were reasons for it.
"All right." She smiled and beckoned to another of the men-at-arms. "Gilot, will you accompany Imriel to—to the Tsingani horse-fields, is it?"
"Yes, please!" I couldn't help the grin that stretched my face.
Gilot swept an extravant bow. "Lady, with a will!"
He was my favorite retainer, after Ti-Philippe and Hugues, who were almost family. He was the youngest—only eighteen, the age of majority I coveted. But he was good with a sword and quick-thinking, which were qualities Joscelin looked for in hiring retainers.