Naamah's Blessing - Jacqueline Carey [82]
“Do you?” I asked her.
“No.” Her mouth twisted. “But I was there when the Circle of Shalomon had its ill-advised successes. I saw what you’re capable of doing and what your damnable gift can achieve.”
We sat together in silence a moment.
“If I were more brave, I would ask to come with you,” Lianne said presently. “It’s what I always wanted, isn’t it?”
“The prospect of an epic tale to tell,” I agreed. “You’d be welcome. I’d be glad of your company.”
She shuddered. “I can’t. I’m afraid.”
I couldn’t blame her for it. I was afraid, too. Ah, gods! I was afraid of so much. Of the journey to come, of Terra Nova and what awaited us there. Of leaving Desirée behind and what might befall her here. Of never seeing Alba again, of never seeing my beloved mother again.
The Duc de Barthelme hosted a farewell supper for us, inviting the principal organizers of the expedition, members of the Great Houses, and a selection of the fighting noblemen from the Lesser Houses who would be accompanying us.
It was an extravagant, glittering affair held in the great hall of the Palace. While the cooks labored in the kitchen to prepare the endless stream of dishes that would strain the long tables, servants in immaculate livery circulated with trays of food and drink to tantalize our palates.
Duc Rogier and his wife, Claudine, were unfailingly gracious, their sons, Tristan and Aristide, handsome and charming. Desirée, permitted to attend the reception prior to the dinner, was glowing, the excitement of the occasion overshadowing the fact that it was meant to celebrate our departure.
“I have a secret, Moirin,” she whispered to me.
“Oh? What is it, dear heart?”
She giggled and shook her head. “I can’t tell you. I promised Papa Rogier. He wants to tell you himself.”
I raised my brows. “Papa Rogier, is it?”
Desirée nodded. “He said it was all right to call him that, him and Maman Claudine. It is, isn’t it?”
I made myself smile at her. “Yes, of course, if he said so.”
Before we were seated to dine, the royal steward rang a silver bell, summoning us to attention. “My lords and ladies!” he called. “His excellence, Duc Rogier Courcel de Barthelme, Regent of Terre d’Ange, begs your indulgence for an announcement of joyful tidings!”
“Uh-oh,” Bao muttered.
“He wouldn’t dare,” I said under my breath. “Not here, not tonight. Would he? Is he that confident?”
Gathering his family, including Desirée, at the head of the hall, Duc Rogier smiled beneficently at the murmuring crowd. “My thanks to all of you for gathering together on this momentous eve!” he said in a carrying voice. “In a moment, we will sit and break bread together, sharing our hopes and prayers for our valiant explorers as they prepare to embark on a quest of imminent danger. Before we do, I am pleased to share news of a joyous nature!”
Tristan de Barthelme reached down to take Desirée’s hand. She held his gladly, gazing up at him in adoration.
“He is,” I said in disbelief.
But instead of making the announcement I dreaded, Duc Rogier gestured toward the back of the hall. Attendants opened the doors and ushered in a fair-haired couple who looked to be in their mid-fifties or later. She possessed a delicate, ephemeral beauty that had turned brittle with age, harsh lines bracketing her lips. He had greying silver-gilt hair caught back in a long braid, and blue-grey eyes whose sparkle had dimmed. Although I’d never seen either of them before, they looked familiar nonetheless.
I caught my breath, suspicion rising.
Together, they approached the head of the hall, exchanging greetings with Desirée, who had clearly met them already and been delighted by the revelation. Duc Rogier’s smile broadened.
“My lords and ladies, I present to you the Comte and Comtesse de Maillet, her highness’ maternal grandparents,” he said. “With their blessing,