Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [75]
"As he was to my mother."
"Yes." Noemie nodded again. "A strange and powerful calling. He always thought a child might result from it."
"Did he say why?" I asked.
"No." She spread her hands. "Only that there must be some purpose in it. That's why we've half expected you all these years."
Raphael eyed me. "Destiny."
"Aye, but what and why?" I said in frustration. "Stone and sea! This is a confounding business."
"Moirin, would you behold your great-great-grandmother?" Noemie asked unexpectedly. "I don't reckon you'll find any answers, but it might please you nonetheless."
It occurred to me that I knew nothing of D'Angeline burial rites. "She's… here?"
"No and yes." She rose, smiling, and took my hand. "Come."
I let Noemie lead me into the temple proper, Raphael trailing behind us. Beneath a modest dome with an opening at its center, a marble effigy of Naamah stood on a marble plinth. Her head was bowed, hair falling to curtain one side of her face. What was visible of her expression was filled with compassion and tenderness. In her cupped hands, she held a pair of doves nestled side by side.
I gazed at her. "I don't understand."
Noemie's hands descended lightly on my shoulders. "Phanuel's great-grandmother, your great-great-grandmother, posed for the likeness. Her name was Amarante, and she was the first royal companion. This temple was built for her."
Raphael was silent.
I looked longer. Sunlight streamed down from the aperture above. The white marble glowed, nearly translucent where it was carved fine. Naamah's effigy regarded her love-birds with infinite gentleness.
My great-great-grandmother.
Shivers ran over my skin. For the first time since I'd set foot on D'Angeline soil, I understood in my bones that I was one of them. A child of the Maghuin Dhonn, aye—but D'Angeline, too. Somewhere, my father wandered. He was a descendant of an old line. My great-great-grandmother was real, as real as Alais the Wise. She had existed. She had posed for this sculptor. I had a heritage here that stretched into the past.
"Oh," I said softly. "I see."
"Do you?" Noemie d'Etoile whispered in my ear.
Doves fluttered.
"Yes," I said. "I do."
* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
On our return journey, the carriage remained curtained and stifling. Raphael sat at apparent ease across from me, telling me the tale of how this particular Temple of Naamah came to be situated in the Tsingani quarter.
It was a charming tale.
I didn't care.
The bright lady's gift, Naamah's gift, was coiling around me and through me, heating my blood. I let it roam freely. When the carriage jolted to a temporary halt, I let it pitch me across the space between us, landing me in his lap.
Raphael's eyes gleamed. "Moirin…"
"Shut up," I whispered, sinking my hands into his tawny hair.
I kissed him.
He was a man, and mortal. He kissed me back, his mouth and tongue urgent, his hands hard around my hips, radiating warmth. One hand descended, shoving up my skirts, pushing at my fine new undergarments, moving them out of the way. I fumbled at the buttons on his breeches.
And then…
Horses' hooves clopped. I clasped my hand around his erect phallus and fitted it to me with a sigh, pushing downward onto him.
So good.
So deep.
"Nice," I sighed, rocking atop him. The carriage seat squeaked.
"This is not what I intended for our first time," Raphael whispered against my mouth.
"I know." I kissed him, then smiled into his eyes. "I couldn't wait."
It should have been tawdry, but it wasn't. My mind was too filled with beauty, with sunlit marble and doves, with the unfolding wonder of discovering who I was. And, too, there was the mystery that had passed between us earlier. When my climax came, it was like slow, rolling waves. I offered up a silent prayer that it would ease the memory of those other waves, cold and killing.
"Elua!" Raphael spent himself inside me with a shudder. He rested his brow against mine. I put one