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By Root 2208 0

my surroundings. My head and ribs advised against it. So instead I went onto the balcony. There was a little table and two chairs of some kind of metal filigree and it overlooked an inner courtyard with a lush garden. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. The air smelled of herbs—some familiar, like comfrey and catmint, some new, like basil and rosemary and lavender. There were others I didn't know. Almost all of the plants were happy and content, although here and there I sensed a discordant note.

Tomorrow, I thought, I would explore.

How long I sat there, I couldn't say. Hours, I suppose. The balcony faced west. I watched the sky turn red and thought about home. I wondered where my mother was and if she was permitting herself to be happy with Oengus.

I hoped so.

I wondered what she would think of Raphael de Mereliot. I wondered what I thought of him.

The Queen's favorite courtier.

Her lover, by all accounts. I wondered what the good ladies Florette and Lydia would make of my presence in his home. No doubt they would be beside themselves with scandalous delight. I'd have to visit them.

Sunset turned to dusk. Twilight rose from the garden beneath me, hundreds of herbs and shrubs exhaling wistfully at the passing of the sun. It was profoundly comforting. I drew the essence of the D'Angeline twilight deep into my lungs and breathed it out, letting it surround me like a cloud.

"Moirin?"

Alarmed, I let it go and rose with alacrity.

Raphael stood just beyond the open balcony doors, staring at me with parted lips. "You were… sparkling."

"Oh?" I said weakly. "Was I?"

"You were. I called your name at the door," he added. "You didn't answer."

"I was thinking."

He fixed me with his intent gaze. "And sparkling."

I sighed. "It's because you were watching, my lord. And because I was careless once more and didn't hear you or sense your presence. Tame places do that to me. If you hadn't already been watching, you wouldn't have seen me."

"Like Nevil," he said.

"Nevil?" I repeated.

"My driver." Raphael's gaze was unflinching. "He swears the street where we struck you was empty. And I have never, ever known him to lie. He didn't, did he?"

"No," I murmured. "He did not. Tell me, my lord, have I surpassed the limit of strangeness any man might be expected to endure?"

"Not even close, Moirin of the Maghuin Dhonn." With an unexpectedly wolfish grin, Raphael reached me in a few swift strides. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, warmth radiating from his hands. It felt glorious. Our tongues and our gifts entangled, healing and desire intertwined in an intricate dance. He lifted his head, grey eyes gleaming. "Ah, Elua! Not even close, my lady. I like your strangeness."

I felt dizzy. "Why?"

Raphael stroked the line of my jaw with his thumbs. "Do you feel well enough to dine with me?"

"I do."

He let go my face and extended his arm. "Then come, and let us talk."

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"How is it done?" Raphael asked. I explained to him how one summoned the twilight, drawing it in and breathing it out. He listened intently.

"Is it a discipline of long practice?" he asked when I had finished.

"No." I shook my head. "It takes a good deal more concentration to do it in a tame place unless there's green, growing life present. Like your garden or Elua's Oak. Do you know, it remembers being planted?" I added. "I've never met a tree so old or with such self-awareness before."

He blinked. "You speak with trees?"

"With that one, aye. Mostly, their thoughts are simpler. Not thoughts, exactly, but awareness."

"And how is that done?" Raphael asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know, I just do. It's a small gift, but it's my own. My lord, why are you so curious?"

"Call me Raphael." He gestured to the chef to carve the roast standing beside the table. "Because unlike many in Terre d'Ange, I believe magic is a tool we shouldn't fear to put to good use. But from my studies, I've come to find that the incidence of pure, inherent magic in human beings is exceedingly rare. In most documented cases, it's acquired only by