Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [158]
"We're not greedy folk, my lady," said the woodcutter, Luc. He had a sweet, tired smile. "Was reward enough to see Brother Phanuel restored to life."
Sophie gave me a shy embrace in parting. "Mayhap I'll see you in the City one day, Lady Moirin," she said. "I'm thinking on Brother Ramiel's offer to enter Naamah's Service."
"You would do her honor," I assured her.
She blushed prettily, eyes aglow. "Aye?"
"Aye, indeed," I said wryly.
Despite the lingering sense of weariness that plagued me, the return journey was far, far more pleasant than the outbound one had been. I told my father the true story of how I had come to be Jehanne's companion, leaving out only those parts that concerned the Circle of Shalomon. He listened and understood in a way no one else could have.
"When we do a kindness for another, we grow in ways we cannot fathom," he murmured when I had finished. "I suspect that may be true for her majesty. And I suspect in turn that it is true for you as well, Moirin. You gave Jehanne a gift she didn't know she badly needed."
"Well." I smiled. "The role isn't without its rewards."
"Doubtless." My father regarded me gravely. "Your tale confirms my fears. You shouldn't have put yourself at such risk to save me."
"How could I not try?" I asked simply.
"How could I live with myself if you'd perished in the effort?" he countered. "Promise me you'll not do it again."
I shook my head. "That's not a promise I can make. Can you promise me you'll not take ill again?"
His generous mouth quirked. "I'll do my best."
We reached the City without incident, arriving in the early evening. I tried to convince my father to take lodgings at the Palace, where I was sure he would be welcome, but he refused, insisting that the peace and calm of the temple would do him good. In turn, he invited me to stay at the temple, an offer I declined.
"Jehanne will be missing me," I said. "She may even admit to it. How could I pass up such an opportunity?"
My father laughed and kissed my brow. "Go, then. Come see me on the morrow."
At the Palace, I was received with a certain measure of relief. A servant was dispatched to notify her majesty of my return. I retreated to my enchanted bower and sent for a bath to be drawn. My quarters had been kept warm in my absence, not quite warm enough for the likes of the tropical plants and too warm for the evergreens. I listened to their voiceless songs while I waited, promising to tend to them when I felt stronger.
When my bath was ready, I luxuriated in it, my first proper bath since I'd left the City. A year ago, I'd have been content with a quick wash in a cold stream. A year ago, Cillian had been alive and nagging me to wed him. I thought about the strange course my life had taken between then and now. From cave to palace, from the unsuitable would-be bride of the Lord of the Dalriada's son to the Queen of Terre d'Ange's valued companion.
Strange, indeed.
Following my drifting thoughts, I drifted asleep in the warm water. When the maid returned with a freshly heated bucket and plucked the sponge from my limp hand, I didn't protest, lingering in the darkness behind my closed eyes. She began bathing the back of my neck with uncommon tenderness, warm water cascading over my shoulders.
I opened my eyes and smiled at Jehanne. She was sitting on the stool beside the tub, dressed in state regalia, sponge in hand.
"You're back." Her eyes sparkled at me. "I had to see for myself that you were more or less intact."
"More or less," I agreed, delighting in the incongruous sight of her playing the maidservant.
"Your father?"
"He's recovering at the temple," I said. "The babe?"
Jehanne splayed her free hand over her belly, which evinced a very slight hint of roundness. "Progressing well, I'm told." She flashed an impish smile at me. "Would you like to examine the progress