Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [103]
My father's green eyes widened. "You didn't."
I nodded.
He looked away, looked fixedly at the ground.
"I'm sorry!" Shame deepened my flush. "I shouldn't be telling you this, should I? It's just that there's no one I can trust. And now I've lied to Raphael about it and he'll hate me when he finds out, and Jehanne's just waiting for the right moment to humiliate me with it." My father couldn't even bring himself to look at me, and I hated myself for disappointing him before we'd even met. "I know it was a foolish thing to do!" I said in a desperate tone. "I'm sorry! It was very, very stupid to let myself be seduced by someone who wishes me ill, no matter how nice she smells!"
His shoulders shook.
A new suspicion dawned. "Are you laughing at me?"
"Not quite." My father lifted his head. His face was red with the effort of suppressing his laughter, and there were tears of helpless mirth in his eyes. "Name of Elua! You've done a remarkable job of getting yourself entangled in a very large mess in a very short time."
I heaved a sigh. "I know."
"All right, all right." He collected himself, dabbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his robe. "The Queen approached you in the role of an adept?" he asked. I nodded. "Then she won't use it against you," he said firmly. "She'll let you think she will, but she won't. She can't. Not without being censured by Naamah's Order for dishonoring her vow. And believe me, Jehanne de la Courcel does not want that to happen."
It gave me hope. "You're sure?"
"Very sure." My father gave me one of his lovely smiles. "Jehanne takes great pleasure in being the Queen of Terre d'Ange and great pride in being the foremost courtesan of her day. She won't risk losing her status as the latter."
"You're sure," I said again.
"Yes." He stroked my hair. "Moirin, you're descended from a long line of priests and priestesses who have served Naamah with honor and distinction. Your great-great-grandmother was the first royal companion. And her mother was the first to welcome Phedre no Delaunay herself to Naamah's temple. You're not to be ashamed for doing what comes naturally to one of our blood. I won't allow it."
I leaned against him. "No?"
My father kissed my temple. "No."
We sat for a time in companionable silence. I could feel the warmth of his body through the fine silk robes, the steady rise and fall of his ribcage as he breathed. There was nothing more in it. He was my father; I was his daughter. The half-hidden spring burbled at our feet. The oak trees that dotted the landscape blazed with vivid hues of gold and russet and crimson, flaunting their majesty before it was time to surrender to winter's sleep and sink deep into their roots. The dark green pine trees hoarded their needles and gloated.
"The sacred rite I spoke of before is a rite of passage," I said at length. "I underwent it after Cillian was killed. And I saw Her."
He looked at me. "Her?"
I swallowed. "The Maghuin Dhonn Herself."
"You saw a bear?"
"Not just any bear." I wanted him to understand. "Her. I passed through the stone doorway and waited. Waited and waited. It was beautiful there. Bright and dark all at once. When She came, She blotted out the stars. Then She shaped Herself to a mortal scale. She gazed on me and breathed on me and acknowledged me as one of Her own. I would have stayed there forever if She'd let me and followed Her to the ends of the earth."
My father's voice was grave. "But she didn't."
"No." I shook my head. "She turned away from me. Stone and sea! Her eyes. She looked so very, very sad. And in the doorway…" Yes?
"I saw the sea." I shivered. "Sunlight on the waves, gulls crying. All I knew was that I was meant to go. That I couldn't stay in Alba. And I didn't know where else to go but here. I hoped you might tell me why."
"I wish I could." He was quiet a moment. "You said your… diadh-anam… recognized Raphael de Mereliot. Is he the only one?"
I started to say yes, then remembered. "No. There