Naamah's Blessing - Jacqueline Carey [49]
Celestine Shahrizai gave him a look of approval. “Now, see? There’s a clever young man.”
“What is it you want from Prince Thierry?” I asked.
“It’s a small matter.” Balthasar made a dismissive gesture. “Merely politics. But for hundreds of years, despite the considerable influence House Shahrizai has wielded, the Duchy de Morbhan has been the sovereign duchy in Kusheth. We would see that changed.”
“Why?” I asked him.
It was Celestine who answered, steel in her voice. “Because Kushiel’s line throws truer in House Shahrizai than any other! The right of sovereignty in Kusheth province should be ours.”
The air seemed to shiver at her words. I toyed with the iron key. “You do not even know for a surety that Thierry will side with his father’s choice. And I cannot promise to advance your cause if he does. I know far, far too little of the politics involved.”
“Nor are we asking you to do so, Moirin.” Balthasar smiled at me. “This is a gamble, nothing more.”
“You set no conditions on your gift?” Bao inquired.
“None.” Balthasar shook his head.
“There is, of course, the risk involved with accepting the support of the notorious House Shahrizai,” Josephine added in a silken voice. “But as my cousin notes, you come from notorious stock yourself. And…” She gestured idly around the empty dining room. “As you have seen tonight, we are not without our admirers.”
I ignored the latter comment. “Your infamous kinswoman Melisande Shahrizai’s blood runs in the veins of House Courcel, does it not?”
“It does indeed,” Balthasar agreed. “But while they are quick to claim her son Imriel de la Courcel as an ancestor, they are not so eager to acknowledge his maternal parentage.” His expression was serious. “History casts a shadow over the Shahrizai name as surely as it does the Maghuin Dhonn. But I know Thierry de la Courcel well, and loyalty counts for a great deal with him.”
“Bao?” I asked.
“Hmm?” His head came up; I’d lost him to the chocolatl again. He wiped froth from his upper lip. “I think they are being honest, and it is a gamble. Do what you think best, Moirin.”
“What do you think, my lady?” I asked Gamaliel’s wife.
“Me?” Mariette Shahrizai looked startled.
I nodded. “You.”
Once again, she flushed; but she held my gaze without flinching. “I am not entirely sure what you are asking me, Lady Moirin,” she said slowly. “But I will tell you what I know of House Shahrizai. They are Kushiel’s faithful scions, and they serve him with honor and integrity. That may mean nothing to one such as you, touched only by Naamah’s bright grace. But it means the world to me.” She hesitated. “Will that answer serve, my lady?”
I didn’t understand; not wholly. But I felt a sense of rightness. “I do believe it will.”
“Then you will accept our gift?” Celestine demanded, sitting very straight and upright in her chair.
I smiled at the matriarch of House Shahrizai. “Aye, it does. I will accept it with thanks, my lady.”
This time, I won a look of approval from her. “A wise choice.”
I took another deep drink of chocolatl, and hoped it was true.
EIGHTEEN
The house was perfect.
As Balthasar had said, it was situated on the outskirts of the City of Elua—a modest dwelling surrounded by trees, many of them evergreens. I strolled the grounds, inhaling deeply.
Bao regarded me fondly. “Have you been missing your wilderness?”
“I have,” I admitted, resting one hand on the rough bark of a graceful cypress tree. “But this helps.”
Once inside, I was surprised to find that the house came equipped with elegant furnishings, as well as a staff that was modest by D’Angeline standards, but extravagant by mine—a steward, a cook, two maidservants, a footman, and a groom.
“We are here to serve at a moment’s notice should any of the House wish to entertain here.” The steward, Guillaume Norbert, was a grave fellow with silver-grey hair tied back in a severe braid, but he unbent enough to offer a faint smile. “Now we are here to serve at your pleasure, madame.”
I