Naamah's Blessing - Jacqueline Carey [223]
“You couldn’t have known how deep the wound cut,” I murmured. “It is not the sort of thing a parent shares with a child.”
Returning from the distance, Thierry glanced at me. “What’s she like? My sister, Desirée. She was scarce more than a babe when I left.”
“High-spirited and willful, and filled with a yearning for love.” I smiled with sorrow. “Or at least she was when I left. She’s the image of Jehanne, and she has her mother’s temper. They’ll seek to use it against her, to convince her that she’s unlovable because of it. That she bears a burden of guilt for every loss House Courcel has suffered. She’s vulnerable to it.”
“You seem very sure of this,” he said.
I nodded. “I am.”
Thierry propped his arms on the ship’s railing, gazing out at the endless sea. “I’d like to see it for myself,” he said. “I’d like to see House Barthelme tip their hand before I reveal mine. If we arrive covered in glory, they’ll have time to prepare their lies, and if my sister was mistreated, it will be a child’s word against theirs.”
“Denis de Toluard managed to keep word of your presumed death silent until he reached the City of Elua,” I said. “He honored his promise to you, that your father might hear it firsthand and not through cruel rumor. It can be done.”
“I want somewhat more.” Thierry gave me another glance. “I want to see for myself how they treat Desirée in my absence without allowing them the chance to dissemble. Your magic could accomplish that, couldn’t it?”
I gazed at him, seeing the lines of maturity etched on his face, lending it a strength of purpose he’d never had before. “You’d have them believe you dead?”
“I would.” His voice was grim.
I looked away. “Aye, I can conceal us in the twilight. Beneath its cloak, you could walk unseen into the Palace itself. But it will cause a great deal of unnecessary pain, especially to the child.”
“Only for a short time.” Reaching out, Thierry covered my hand with his on the railing. “If I can see the damage that was done to her, I will know better how to undo it,” he said, his tone turning gentle. “Moirin, I do not think you would have become Desirée’s oath-sworn protector if you had not come to love her. I hear it in your voice when you speak of her. I would wish to do the same, and give her the love for which she yearns.”
“Do you believe you can?” I asked him, summoning an uncertain smile. “You and Jehanne had a… prickly relationship.”
Thierry laughed. “So we did, for many reasons. But that had changed, too. I came to accept that in her own way, she did love my father—and he her. She made him happy, and he was seldom a happy man.” His expression sobered. “I told you, I will not repeat his mistakes, Moirin. We are orphans alike, my sister and I. I will learn to love her.”
I sighed. “I will do as you ask.”
He squeezed my hand. “Thank you.” He smiled ruefully. “I suspect I could spend the rest of my life thanking you, and it would not begin to be enough.”
I shook my head. “If I had not let Raphael de Mereliot turn my head all those years ago, none of this would have happened.”
Thierry gazed at the skyline. “We would have starved in the jungle without Raphael and his bedamned ants. They foraged for us. It’s why none of us dared raise a hand against him on the journey, why we could not turn back.”
“I know,” I said.
“I gave up hope,” he said, more to himself than me. “I’ll not let that happen again, ever. The memory of Balthasar Shahrizai wielding a digging-stick in the far reaches of Terra Nova will suffice to remind me that anything is possible.”
It made me laugh. “Balthasar, and not me?”
Thierry gave me a quick, fond glance. “For all your youth and naivete, you did always have an air of destiny about you, Moirin. I must confess, your presence did not surprise me as much as Balthasar’s.” He squeezed my hand again. “Do you remember, a long time ago, I said you