Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [73]
Aleksei looked confused. “What love story?”
“The love between Yeshua ben Yosef and Mary of Magdala,” I said. “Surely that is one of the best parts.”
“Ah… no.” He flushed, fidgeting with the book. “No, it is not reckoned so in the Church of Yeshua Ascendant.”
“Oh.” I was disappointed.
He gave me a yearning look. “Mary of Magdala took the blood that Yeshua spilled on the cross and used it to a corrupt end. God only allowed it that even Elua might learn to resist temptation in the end. Moirin, you must set aside the false beliefs you were taught in Terre d’Ange.”
I shook my head. “There is no sin in love, Aleksei, nor in honest desire.”
“Please do not say such things!” His face looked pale and pinched.
“Why?” I asked softly. “Because they are dangerous truths you fear to hear? Or because your uncle will have me stoned to death for saying them?”
Aleksei scrambled to his feet, once more avoiding my gaze, clutching the book before him as though it were a talisman to ward me off. “It’s best that I go.”
Still, he hesitated. I rose from my stool, crossing the space between us. Although it was difficult to move gracefully in shackles, I had been practicing. “Aleksei, I am trying,” I said in a low tone. “But I am as the gods have made me. Naamah’s gift is real. I have felt her blessing, and there is only grace and beauty in it. It is no curse, and I do not know if I can repent of it in earnest.”
He was trembling, and I was standing close enough that I could feel the heat coming off him in waves. “I should go,” he repeated.
I touched his cheek—oh so lightly. His pupils dilated, and the pulse in the hollow of his strong young throat beat hard and fast. “You feel it, too. I know you do.”
If I pressed him any harder, I would lose him. I made myself turn away, bowing my head. Aleksei’s breathing was ragged in the small cell.
“Moirin…” He whispered my name.
Whatever else he meant to say, he fell silent at the sound of a key turning in the lock. Valentina opened the door and entered the chamber, bringing a tray with my mid-day meal. Mother and son exchanged a long glance, and then Aleksei left, stumbling and banging his shoulder against the door-frame in his haste.
I sighed.
“I know what you’re about with my son.” Valentina set the tray down on the little table, hard enough to make it rattle. Her voice was grim. “God help me, I don’t know if I’m praying for you to succeed or fail.”
I extended my arms toward her in supplication, dangling my chains. “Believe what you will, my lady. My offer stands. Purloin the key, and I will go and take any dilemma I may pose from you.”
Her mouth hardened. “Would you take him with you?”
“Aleksei?”
“Who else?”
“Yes,” I murmured. “If he wished to go, yes, of course. Your son was not meant to live this way.”
“Would you love him?” Valentina appraised me with a mother’s shrewdness.
I found myself unable to lie to her. For all I knew, I could come to love him. As Bao had observed, I had a tendency to give my heart away quickly. But at the moment, Aleksei was but a means to an end; and no matter what else transpired, it was Bao who held the missing half of my soul.
So I stayed silent.
“As I thought,” Valentina said bitterly. “You do but ply him with a whore’s cheap wiles.”
I sank onto my narrow bed, unwinding my head-scarf and shaking my shorn hair loose, weary of playing games. “Forbid him my company if you fear for him so.”
Her voice dropped. “I dare not.”
“Why?” I glanced at her. “God’s judgment?”
She looked away from me. “It is a test and a trial. Aleksei’s, not mine. I should not even speak to you.”
“Do you fear I’ll seek to seduce you instead?” I asked wryly, giving my chains an enticing jangle. “I’m willing to try, but I’m not at my best.”
Valentina shook her head. “Even if I were inclined to such depravity, do you think I would not know it for a lie, old and haggard as I have grown?” Unexpectedly, her voice cracked. “Do not mock me.”
“I’m not mocking you.” There were tears on her