Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [85]
"Thank you," I whispered. "I thank you so much."
"Beautiful boy." She stirred and touched my face. "Will you remember this?"
"Always," I said. "Always, and with joy."
Emmeline smiled. She was as beautiful in the morning as she had been the night before. Before I left, she rang for a servant, who came to fill the washbasin with steaming water. She bathed me herself, sponging away the oil with which she had annointed me and the dried traces of our lovemaking that lingered on my skin. The soap had the same light fragrance as her perfume.
On her nightstand was a sculpture carved of gleaming wood, depicting a pair of cupped hands; Naamah's Hands. I placed a purse of coin in it, my patron-gift. I wished I had something more personal to give her, a keepsake of some sort.
"I'll come back to see you again," I promised.
"You may," she said, stroking my cheek. "I will always welcome you gladly, Imriel. But I think you have found what you sought here."
It was true. If I had felt strange to myself yesterday, it was nothing to what I felt this morning. Emmeline escorted me to the reception salon where Ti-Philippe and Hugues had already been summoned. They were waiting, yawning and sleepy-eyed. I wondered if I looked different to them. Surely, I felt different.
"Good-bye, my beautiful boy," Emmeline said, giving me a farewell kiss.
"Good-bye," I whispered.
Outside, the sky was growing brighter. I stood in the courtyard, listening to birdsong, while the ostlers brought our mounts. The Bastard's spotted hide was vivid in the dawn light. He snorted as I mounted, but was otherwise docile. I swung astride him and settled myself in the saddle, feeling a heightened awareness of my body. I have known a woman since last I did this, I thought.
The world seemed very beautiful today.
We were halfway down Mont Nuit before either Ti-Philippe or Hugues spoke of it. It was Ti-Philippe who gave me a sidelong glance. "So," he said. "Riding with our head held high today, are we?"
I laughed. "Am I?"
"You are." Hugues smiled at me. "Well done, Imri."
"Yes," I said. "It was."
* * *
Chapter Eighteen
After my visit to Balm House, I was at peace with myself for the first time in many months. Word had gotten out, of course, and there were knowing looks to be endured, but I found they did not trouble me.
"Thank you," I said to Phèdre. "You chose rightly."
"Good," she said simply. "I thought so."
I grinned at her. "You weren't sure?"
Phèdre raised her brows. "In matters of love, nothing is certain."
I thanked Joscelin, too, for his role in quelling my would-be abductors. He merely nodded, then asked cautiously, "So you were pleased with your evening?"
"Yes." I hesitated, then asked him. "Joscelin, have you never wondered?"
"About the Night Court?" he said.
I shrugged. "About the Night Court, or anything. Anyone. Others."
"Of course." Joscelin laughed at my startled expression. "Imri, I am human. It's just…" He shook his head, searching for words. "I was a middle son, and my family keeps the old traditions. I grew up knowing I was meant for Cassiel's service. In my father's household, one's word of honor was a sacred bond. When I swore my oath to the Cassiline Brotherhood, I meant it, every part."
"But you broke it," I murmured.
"I fell in love," he said quietly. "Yes. And I will not dishonor my vows for aught less."
"How did you know?" I asked. "When?"
Joscelin frowned. We were cleaning our gear together; oiling the leather straps and polishing metal bits. "It was in Skaldia," he said. "I'm not sure exactly when. Mayhap when Phèdre crawled into the rafters to spy on Selig's plans. Or mayhap it was when she cursed me for giving up hope." Remembering, he smiled slightly. "She threatened to write to the Prefect of the Brotherhood and tell him Blessed Elua was better served by an adept of the Night Court than a Cassiline priest."
"She did?" I asked, half-enthralled and half-horrified.
"Oh, yes." He laughed. "And somewhere in there, I realized that I would willingly