Naamah's Blessing - Jacqueline Carey [50]
As though reading my mind, the steward gave a discreet cough. “Of course, Lady Celestine has ordered all relevant details of our service to be directed to her factor.”
“That’s… very generous,” I said.
There was quiet pride in his face, in the faces of all the household staff. “I am pleased that you think so.”
“Moirin?” Bao’s voice came from another room. He sounded strange.
“Aye?”
“Come see.”
Guillaume Norbert arched his brows. “I believe messire has found the seraglio.”
I found Bao in a sumptuous room beyond the far doors of the dining hall, covered with Akkadian carpets, strewn with cushions, and outfitted with many of the accoutrements of violent love-play the Shahrizai favored, including a tall, glass-fronted case that displayed an array of whips and paddles, and a tall wooden wheel equipped with four leather manacles.
Bao spun the wheel. “Huh.”
“Does messire desire a demonstration?” the steward inquired with perfect equanimity, beckoning to the younger of the two maidservants. She stepped forward willingly.
“No!” Bao backed away from the wheel. “No, messire does not.” He eyed me uncertainly. “Does he?”
“No.” I reached out to halt the wheel’s spinning. “I think not.”
The steward Guillaume inclined his head. “Shall I have these items removed, madame?”
“No.” I gazed at the weathered wood and the leather manacles, wondering who had worn them and what pleasures they had found in it. “Let them stay for now. It is a part of the house’s history.”
“As you will.”
There was one item I did ask to have removed—an iron hook that hung on a chain from the highest rafter of the master bedchamber. What it had been used for, I could not even begin to guess, but I felt better for having it gone.
After that, Bao and I settled quite comfortably into our new lodgings. As expected, the news of House Shahrizai’s patronage caused ripples in the City of Elua; but overall the tide of fortune continued to turn in our favor.
First and foremost came a message of support from the Cruarch of Alba.
I had never met Faolan mab Sibeal, the Cruarch of Alba. But he had a name for being a strong, just ruler; and he was a kinsman, a descendant of Alais the Wise. His message was brief but succinct, thanking and congratulating King Daniel for making a choice that acknowledged the shared heritage and long-standing history that lay between Alba and Terre d’Ange.
“How?” I asked when I heard the news, glad but bewildered. “I thought the Straits were impassable in the winter!”
“They are for ships.” Bao’s eyes glinted. “But Naamah’s temples use doves to carry messages. You didn’t know?”
I shook my head. “I did not.”
“They say at Eglantine House that the monarchs of both realms have tried to duplicate the feat,” Bao offered. “Without success. The doves fly only for priests of Naamah’s Order.”
My father confirmed it when I met with him the following day.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “ ’Tis an art honed over the centuries. We thought the Cruarch ought to know.”
He looked tired to me, more tired than he ought. “We?” I asked.
“Naamah’s Order, yes.” My father gave me a faint smile. There were dark smudges beneath his green, green eyes. “I had the honor of playing a part in the decision.”
“That must not have sat well with his grace the Royal Minister,” I said softly.
My father didn’t deny it. “My lord Rogier is… concerned… that the orders of the priesthood have involved themselves in politics. First Eisheth’s Order, and now Naamah’s.” He knuckled his eyes and yawned. “But we discussed it into the small hours of the night, and I believe he understands that this is a courtesy we felt compelled to extend to the Cruarch, not some nefarious plot to undermine his influence.”
I touched his crimson sleeve. “I’m sorry. I never meant to put you in an awkward situation.”
His gaze cleared. “Nor did you, Moirin. It’s nothing, I promise.” He changed the subject. “So tell me, how are the plans for Eglantine House’s spectacle progressing? Everyone in the City is perishing of curiosity.”
I laughed. “I’ve no idea. Bao