Naamah's Blessing - Jacqueline Carey [81]
It made a pretty picture, the orphaned princess embraced by her new family, and I daresay many of the cheers that greeted it were genuine. Desirée was all smiles, her eyes sparkling.
Despite the insistent warning of my diadh-anam, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was wrong. After all, I’d misread it before; and a part of me wished I was mistaken. I wouldn’t mind if it meant Desirée’s happiness.
But then Duc Rogier introduced me to his wife in my capacity as Desirée’s oath-sworn protector.
Claudine de Barthelme was an attractive woman, with the golden hair and blue eyes her eldest son had inherited; but there was a calculating coolness behind those eyes and a falseness to her smile.
“Ah yes, Lady Moirin.” She pressed my hand between hers. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Her brows rose. “But I understand you mean to leave us soon? Undertaking a dangerous quest to Terra Nova?”
“I fear it’s true,” I said.
Her lips pursed. “It seems a strange way of honoring your oath.”
“Does it?” I asked. “I can think of no better way than restoring her young highness’ brother and the rightful heir to the throne.”
Something flickered in her calculating gaze. “Of course,” she said smoothly, reaching down to lay one manicured hand on Desirée’s head. “I hope you will rest assured knowing that her highness will receive the best of care in your absence.” She glanced down with another benevolent smile. “The poor lass has been motherless for too long.”
I inclined my head. “I can only hope that you come to love her as I do, my lady.”
Claudine’s smile didn’t waver. “I’m sure I shall.”
Bao and I watched the procession make its way toward the Palace, the handsome royal family followed by a long line of wagons snaking its way through the City, cheers following in their wake. “That woman is the goad that drives the Duc’s ambitions,” he remarked. “Count on it.”
“I think so, too.” I sighed. “Would that we could be in two places at once! I don’t like leaving Desirée at their mercy.”
Bao gave me a worried look. “Do you think she’s in danger?”
I gazed after them. “I don’t think they’d dare harm her. It would raise too much suspicion.”
“There are a lot of ways of harming a child,” Bao said darkly.
“I know.” Sister Gemma’s words haunted me. “Believe me, I do.” I could see Desirée’s future unfolding step by step. At first, the Duc de Barthelme and his wife, Claudine, would embrace her, giving her the semblance of family she had never known. And then they would begin to isolate her, replacing her unconventional nurse with an ambitious peer looking to curry favor, replacing the clever tutor who sought to feed her eager young mind with someone more placid and malleable.
And at every turn, they would assure her it was for her own good.
They would chide her for her temper. They would play on her child’s sense of guilt, subtly blaming her for the tragedies that had befallen her.
In the end, they would crush her spirit.
I had a vision of Desirée at sixteen, anxious, overly thin, and as hollow-eyed as a doll, holding the loathsome Tristan’s hand in the Temple of Elua, reciting her wedding vows while the young man smirked, his father watched with pride, his brother with envy, and his mother smiled a beatific smile.
I gritted my teeth. “That will not happen.”
“Moirin?” Bao inquired.
I shook my head, dispelling the vision. “Come, my hero. We’ve a good deal of work yet to do.”
THIRTY
Two weeks later, all was in readiness.
The ship Naamah’s Dove was laden, the captain and crew assembled. Balthasar Shahrizai’s hand-picked party of fighting men were ready to board at a moment’s notice. I’d written yet another letter of explanation and apology to my mother, entrusting it to my father’s care.
I had one last meeting with Lianne Tremaine, the former King’s Poet.
“What can I tell you, Moirin?” she said with a shrug. “I’ve done my best to shape opinion and foster the notion that this is a