Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [236]
We did well at those.
We knew each other very well, my magpie and I. We worked well together, even at a simple task such as untying knots.
And it didn’t matter that we didn’t really grasp the details of the traditions, that the traditions didn’t really apply to us. It didn’t matter that neither of us were familiar with Bhodistani dances, gladly making fools of ourselves in the effort.
All that mattered was that we were together, and surrounded by love. Celebrating beneath the open sky, garlanded with flowers, reveling in all the joy and abundance the world had to offer.
I waited until the sun was sinking low, casting long shadows over the garden, to tell Bao about my dream—or at least the important part of it. As much as I hated to do it, I couldn’t go to our bedchamber with it unspoken between us.
He listened without comment.
“Do you think it is real?” he asked gravely when I finished. “Or is it only your fear speaking to you?”
I swallowed. “I think it’s real, Bao. It felt very real.”
“Oh?” Bao raised his brows at me. “How real, Moirin?”
I flushed; I couldn’t help it. I felt the warm blood climb into my throat and scald my cheeks, revealing my guilty secret. It wasn’t always to my advantage that he knew me so well, and at such a time, Naamah’s gifts felt like a curse in truth. “I’m sorry! But it was Jehanne,” I said as though that excused me for betraying him in a dream, knowing it didn’t, knowing I would do it again anyway if she came to me. “And she was lonely, so very lonely. It broke my heart! I couldn’t help it. It would have broken yours, too.”
He looked away from me.
I clutched his arm. “Bao? I am sorry. I didn’t mean to do it, only…”
His shoulders shook, and I realized belatedly that he was trying not to laugh. “So!” He turned his gaze on me, his dark eyes now bright with tears of barely suppressed laughter. “Within hours of our wedding, Moirin, you are telling me that it appears I am sharing you with the ghost of the White Queen; and that together somehow you must face that idiot demon-summoning Lord Lion Mane Raphael both of you loved for no good reason. Is that right?”
I nodded, chagrined. “Aye, more or less.”
Bao exhaled. “I knew I should have thumped that Raphael over the head,” he remarked. “Next time, I won’t hesitate.”
“Have I ruined our wedding?” I asked in a miserable tone.
“No.” Bao cupped my face in his hands “No,” he said a second time, his breath warm on my skin. “I told you before. I love you as you are, Moirin. I would not change anything about you, even the fact that you have the will and morals of an alley-cat, because that is as your gods made you, and it is part of the reason for your very large heart.” He smiled wryly. “Although I might have wished for a few days of wedded bliss before life with you got stranger.”
I laughed, relieved and glad once more.
Bao kissed me—once gently, a second time with the rising heat of desire. I felt our diadh-anam blaze brighter than ever with the approval of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself; and then a second burst of brightness, warm and golden, a soft thunderclap all around us like a thousand doves taking flight at once, turning the blood molten in our veins and filling our mouths with a sweetness like honey.
Naamah’s blessing settled over us, over the entire charmed garden and everyone in it, driving away now and forever any doubt that her gifts carried any taint of a curse. I heard soft cries of wonder as folk turned to one another and embraced spontaneously.
My magpie prince lifted his head, eyes wide with awe. “That was…”
He had removed his turban hours ago, and now I ran one hand through his thick, unruly hair, tugging his head down to kiss me again. “That,” I whispered against his lips, “was Naamah’s blessing. And I do believe she approves of this marriage.”
Bao smiled and pulled me closer to him, one strong, lean arm snaking around