Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [77]
Raphael folded his arms. "Prattling?"
"Aye, prattling!" I was angry. "About destiny and magic and purpose, and how there are oh, so many things you don't fear in the world, myself included! All the while plotting to use me to make your mistress the Queen jealous." I snatched the eardrops from my ears and threw them at his feet. "Don't you dare accuse me of using you for my own ends!"
The eardrops clinked and rolled on the marble floor. It was the only sound in a dining hall that had gone very, very quiet. The servants stood frozen, looking like they wished they could disappear.
Unaccountably, Raphael smiled. "What is it I find so compelling about a woman with a temper?" he asked no one in particular.
My anger drained away, leaving me weary. "Is that what you see?" I asked him, sinking back into my chair. "My lord, may I remind you that I am young and alone and very far from home. You are the nearest thing to a friend I have in this place. If you trust me so little…" To my shame, my eyes welled with tears and my throat closed.
"Oh, hells." He knelt on one knee before me. I couldn't meet his eyes. "Moirin, I'm sorry. Look at me, won't you?"
I stole a glance at him.
His expression was serious. "Listen. This is all very sudden and unexpected. What you claim are but small and insignificant gifts are passing strange and wondrous to me. And I'll admit, when I heard Denis' story today, I panicked."
I sniffled. "Shall I leave?"
"No." Raphael picked up the eardrops and pressed them into my hands. "Stay. Wear these tomorrow, and I will escort you with pride. All right?"
I wanted to say no.
I should have said no. I should have left; I should have left before. No matter what else he said, not once had Raphael denied using me in his quarrel with the Queen. Ignorant as I was, I had no business dabbling in Court intrigue. But his hands were warm on mine, setting those ridiculous currents of desire swirling in my blood. His grey eyes were earnest and insistent.
And there was the bedamned pulse of the diadh-anam inside me.
"All right," I murmured. "I'll stay."
"Good." He flashed a relieved grin at me. "You know, if you promise a third time, it means you can never leave."
I wasn't in a mood for teasing. "I'd as soon not have this conversation a third time."
"Of course." Raphael sobered and took his seat. "Why did you never mention Cillian mac Tiernan to me?"
I picked listlessly at my food. "I don't know. Because it hurts, I suppose."
He rested his chin on one hand. "Did you love him?"
"Aye." My throat and chest tightened again. I pushed my plate away. "Not enough, but aye." I took a deep breath, willing the tightness to ease. "Cillian was my first friend and my first lover, the only one I'd known before I came to Terre d'Ange. I'd known him since I was ten years old. He brought a tribute-gift of peaches and tried to spy on my mother and me." I smiled at the memory. "I caught him at it and we quarrelled. I had my bow with me. I shot the peaches."
Raphael laughed softly. "Whatever for?"
"I don't recall," I admitted. "But it seemed appropriate at the time."
"What was he like?" he asked.
"Oh…" I shrugged. "I don't know. He was just himself. I never thought about it. Until Cillian came into my life, it was just my mother and me." I made myself think about it. "Curious. Thoughtful, most of the time. Impatient, sometimes. He was a good teacher, though. He taught me to read. He brought me books to last through the winter. We studied D'Angeline together. It was Cillian who figured out that my father had been a Priest of Naamah…"
Once I'd begun talking, the words poured out of me. Cillian's jealousy, my reluctance to wed him. The unexpected horror of his death, and the awful moment when his mother blamed me for it.
"That's why they put it about that you'd ensorceled him?" Raphael asked in a gentle voice.
I nodded. "His sister Aislinn said it was only grief talking. But it was true in a way. I was selfish. I knew I'd never be the proper wife he wanted me to be, his and his alone. If I'd let him go sooner—"
"It wouldn't