Naamah's Blessing - Jacqueline Carey [62]
When I told Bao what I’d done, he laughed until he wept. “Ah gods, Moirin! Why didn’t you tell him to leave Desirée alone while you were at it?”
“I didn’t think of it,” I admitted. “Mayhap I should go back?”
“No, best not to.” He wiped his eyes. “Too many folk know about your gift. The lad’s likely to figure it if you push your luck too far.”
“Well, at least we know he’s a lout,” I said.
Bao shrugged. “He’s a boy trying to steal a kiss from a pretty maid. I was no different at his age.”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s not that. That, I understand. It’s that he didn’t care that she was unwilling, that he’d thought through the reasons she wouldn’t dare speak of it.” I shuddered. “And he was quick to threaten her. I don’t like him, Bao. And I don’t want his majesty thinking he’s a fit suitor for Desirée, now or ever.”
He sobered. “No, you’re right. You should speak to him again.”
I did; or at least I tried to.
King Daniel willingly granted me an audience, but he held up one hand when I sat opposite him in his study, forestalling my tale. The lines of sorrow etched on his face were deeper than ever.
“You were right, Moirin,” he said heavily. “Duc Rogier approached me yesterday with a proposal that we arrange a betrothal.”
I swallowed the words I’d meant to speak. “I’m so sorry, my lord.”
“I’d thought better of him,” he mused. “Truly, I did. Why? Was it not enough that I appointed him to administer the affairs of the realm?”
As ever, his grief made my heart ache. “Ambition is a dangerous thing,” I murmured. “One can harbor it unknowing, only to find it sparked into life when the opportunity presents itself.” I thought about the offer that the fallen spirit Marbas had made me, and about how I’d been tempted by Kamadeva’s diamond. “No one is immune to it, my lord. I know that I myself am not.”
He sighed. “Would that I had been born a simple shepherd!”
I met his gaze. “We do not choose our destinies, my lord. I am sorry, but it is true. What will you do?”
His shoulders rose and fell. “I have denied his proposal. Now I suppose I must appoint someone else to serve in his stead.”
“Your stead,” I reminded him.
It was a piece of insolence, and a part of me hoped that his majesty would rally against it, chastising me. Instead, he bowed his head, dark locks of hair spilling over his brow, his eyes in shadow.
“My stead,” he agreed softly. “At least until Thierry returns. I plan to abdicate the throne to him, you know.”
I nodded. “I suspected you might.”
But in less than a week’s time, everything changed.
TWENTY-THREE
As though the fates were conspiring to grant the King’s wishes, the very day after my meeting with his majesty word came that the Dauphin’s flagship had reached the harbor at Pellasus and was making its way up the Aviline River toward the City of Elua.
The City rejoiced; and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Spared from the necessity of having to appoint a new Royal Minister, I daresay the King was relieved, too. Couriers tracked the ship’s progress along the river. His majesty arranged for a royal reception to greet his returning son, and on a bright spring afternoon, we gathered at the wharf.
Flying the silver swan of House Courcel beneath the lily-and-stars pennant of Terre d’Ange, the ship made dock.
I was there with Bao and Desirée, alongside his majesty and his Royal Minister, presenting a seemingly united front to the realm. Whatever discord seethed beneath the surface was hidden. My father was there, and Tristan de Barthelme beside his own father, the sun glinting on his golden curls. He was on his best behavior.
Desirée squirmed with impatience as we waited for the gangplank to be lowered, eager to meet the older brother of whom she had heard so much and knew so little. I held her hand, praying that Thierry’s return would suffice to make up for the loss of Tristan’s attention likely to come. I would urge Prince Thierry to be kind to her, I thought. He had a good heart, and he would listen to me. I hoped so, anyway. During the time that I had served as Jehanne’s companion,