Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [121]
“I do love you, though,” he said. “And I suspect there is a part of me that always will. I cannot imagine I won’t.”
“Probably,” I agreed, thinking of my own lost loves. “But I think you will be surprised to find how much room there is for love in your heart.”
He reached up to touch my hair, running strands of it through his fingers. “Like you? Have you made a little space in your heart for me, Moirin, that my memory might exist alongside that of the princes and queens and peasant-boys you’ve loved?”
“Aye, a little.” I smiled at him again. “I will always be grateful for the gift you’ve given me today.”
“Me?” Aleksei looked startled.
“Yes, sweet boy.” I leaned down to kiss him. “You.”
“How so?”
Stone and sea, no one in the world could look as bemused and earnest as Aleksei! I drew idle circles on the bare skin of his chest, gazing at him and wondering what manner of man he would become. A strong one, I thought; a good one. Right now, he was like a half-grown lion, only just beginning to come into his strength.
One day…
One day he might become a priest such as the Rebbe Avraham ben David, swaying the course of Vralian history with his eloquent passion and his faith, swaying it away from judgment and punishment, toward love and compassion and joy. Always, always seeking a deeper understanding of what the gods want of us.
Always seeking to divine the unknown word that Yeshua had written in the dust, that Yeshua had written in my vision.
Always deciding it must be love—over and over again.
I shivered.
“Moirin?”
I hadn’t answered Aleksei’s question. I came back to myself, smiling into his blue, blue eyes. “You gave me your trust,” I said. “And that is the greatest gift anyone can give. You allowed me to invoke Naamah’s blessing on your behalf, and you accepted it with grace and gladness, and an open, willing heart. And for the first time, I do believe there was a purpose in my presence here.”
He smiled back at me. “Oh?”
I kissed him again. “Aye.”
When the low afternoon light began to dim toward dusk, we donned our clothes and left our bedchamber for the common room, entering it hand-in-hand. It seemed to me as though Naamah’s blessing had graced the entire establishment.
Polina shook her head at us knowingly, disapproval giving way to pure indulgence. Her husband, Rodya, grinned and winked, setting deep bowls of cabbage stew simmered with seasoned balls of ground spiced meat before us.
The other four patrons of the inn watched us with envy and yearning.
“I feel so strange, Moirin,” Aleksei murmured. “I feel as though I want to embrace them all, share this moment with them. Is that not strange?”
“Not to me, no,” I said. “You know my father is a Priest of Naamah?” He nodded. “I think he sees the world this way all the time. I used to walk with him through the City. It made people glad just to see him. And when he smiled at them, they became beautiful.”
He gazed around the room. “They’re all beautiful, aren’t they?”
I nodded. “Yes, they are.”
“How do you stand it?”
“Oh…” I shrugged. “You just love them, I suppose. After all, you can’t take the whole world to your bed.”
Aleksei glanced at me. “You would if you could.”
I laughed.
He laughed, too.
“Sweet boy,” I said fondly. “I do believe you have begun to understand me.”
Aleksei spooned stew into his mouth, eating with a good appetite. “Do you suppose other women have the same capacity for pleasure?” he asked, only flushing a very little bit at the question. “Non-D’Angeline women, I mean.”
“Oh, yes,” I said without thinking. “Of course.”
“Well, but you can’t know for sure unless…” His voice trailed off, his flush deepening. “Oh.”
I laughed again at his expression. “It’s not the same as possessing Naamah’s gift, no. Of understanding pleasure as a birthright, of reaching for it as simply and naturally as breathing, of swimming in it like a salmon in a stream. But it’s there, it’s always there. It may need to be coaxed a bit, that’s all.”
He took another