Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [69]
"My lady." Benoit squeezed my hands, still holding them despite their apparent hideousness. His tone turned serious. "If you'd hear a word of advice, I'd counsel you strongly. Do not think to come between my lord de Mereliot and the Queen. Whatever game they're playing, don't let him make you a pawn in it."
"He's not!" I protested. "He's shown me nothing but kindness."
"It suits his ends," he warned me. "Raphael de Mereliot knows full well that the City's already a-twitter over the secret he's hiding. He's not a bad fellow, but every man has an angel and a devil inside him. You fell into his hands like a gift sent straight from Heaven. He means to use you for all it's worth."
I pulled my hands away. "I don't believe it."
"Believe as you will." Benoit Vallon gathered his things, then gave me a crisp bow. "I'll return in a few days for your first fitting."
That evening, Raphael took me for a stroll in his garden. It was better, so much better, than sitting on the balcony. I took off my shoes and reveled in the feeling of tender grass beneath my bare feet. Raphael smiled indulgently and let me wander. I tasted the air, letting it play over my tongue, and listened for the one discordant note amid the complacent choir.
"This one." I followed the note unerringly to a graceful little tree in a beautiful blue and white pot, its leaves drooping and yellow. "He's unhappy. What is he?"
"A plum tree from Ch'in." Raphael patted the pot. "A gift from Master Lo Feng. The fruit stimulates the bowels. But I'm afraid it's not going to make it through the winter."
I stroked the plum tree's branches, closing my eyes and concentrating. It whimpered through my thoughts, roots coiled in a tight ball.
"It's all right," I whispered. "This is a good place. You'll see." Opening my eyes, I blew softly on it.
The little tree quivered. The tight ball of roots eased a bit, the limp leaves brightening.
"It looks… better." Raphael stared at me. "What did you do?"
I was drained. "It's part of my gift. I can't do much, only help a little. He's lonely and drawing into himself."
"Lonely," he echoed.
I tapped the pot. "Take him out of this and plant him. He'll be happier in shared soil, I promise. Raphael, are you using me in your quarrel with the Queen?"
He didn't answer right away.
My heart sank.
"Let us say that I am not unmindful of the impact your appearance at Court will have," Raphael said slowly. "I told you freely, I have reason to wish myself in the good graces of House Courcel."
"The King's graces, aye," I observed. "He may look kindly on the kindness you've extended to a wayward descendant of his house. Or mayhap he'll simply be pleased that you're trifling with the affections of someone other than his wife. But by all accounts, Queen Jehanne will not look kindly on your actions. So, my lord. Are you using me? If so, what do you hope to accomplish?" My voice shook a little. "Is it your hope that jealousy will drive her back into your arms?"
"Moirin." He leveled that storm-grey gaze at me. "If that was all I wanted, I could have had it last night."
"No." I spread my hands. "Because today I am still a rustic half-breed with calluses on her hands and a threadbare dress, someone to be mocked and dismissed despite any unease my heritage may provoke. In a week's time, with the assistance of Atelier Favrielle, I may become an exotic novelty—the first of the Maghuin Dhonn to be civilized by a D'Angeline."
Raphael winced. "That's unfair."
"Is it?" I asked.
"Yes." He took my shoulders in his hands. That bedamned warmth flowed into me, rousing my own gifts, setting the doves to fluttering and honeyed heat to rising in my loins. I tried to look away from him and couldn't. "I never claimed my intentions were pure. But whatever this is between us, it's real. It's not a game. I want to find out what it is, what it means. Why the gods saw fit to place you in my path. If you don't…" Raphael released me and stepped backward with a crisp bow. "I'll gladly see you settled in suitable lodgings