Paladin of Souls - Lois McMaster Bujold [214]
“Yes.” Ista smiled. “Once, He borrowed your face to speak through. It appears that Someone thinks you not unworthy to wear His colors, Learned, to wear in turn the semblance of your flesh.”
“Oh.” Dy Cabon blinked, taking this in. “Is that so? Really? My goodness.” He blinked some more. When he took his leave of her, his mouth was still tugging up.
IN THE EVENING AFTER SUPPER, WHEN THE SUN HAD SET AND WHITE stars were coming out in the cobalt sky above the stone court, Lord Illvin climbed the stairs and knocked on Ista’s door. Liss admitted him to the outer chamber with a friendly dip of her knees. With a look of extreme bemusement on his face, he held out his hands to Ista.
“Look. I found these growing on the apricot tree in the forecourt, as I was passing through just now.”
Liss peered. “They’re apricots. Makes sense that’s where they’d be . . . doesn’t it?” She hesitated.
The fruits were large and deeply colored, with a faint red blush upon their dark golden skins. Ista, bending to look, flared her nostrils at their heavy perfume. “They smell lovely.”
“Yes, but . . . it is not the season. My mother planted that tree when I was born, and the almond for Arhys. I know when they’re supposed to come ripe, I’ve watched them all my life. Not for months yet. There are still a few blossoms that haven’t fallen, though half the leaves are gone. These two were hiding amongst the few that held on—I saw them by chance.”
“How do they taste?”
“I was a little afraid to bite into them.”
Ista smiled. “Out of season they may be, but I think they are not a disaster. I think they may be a gift. It will be all right.” She pushed open the door of her inner chamber with one foot. “Come in. Let us try them.”
“Um,” said Liss. “I can stay in sight, if you leave the door open, but I don’t think I can get out of earshot.”
Ista gave Illvin a tilt of her head, toward the inner door. “Excuse us a moment.”
A little smile turning his mouth, he gave her a courtly nod and passed within. Ista pulled the door shut behind him, briefly, and turned to Liss. “I don’t think I have explained to you yet about the other set of rules for discreet ladies-in-waiting . . .”
She did so, in clear, succinct, but on the whole polite terms. Liss’s eyes grew bright as the stars outside, as she listened attentively. Ista was relieved, though not surprised, that Liss seemed neither confused nor shocked. Ista hadn’t quite expected enthusiastic, however. She found herself swept within, and the door firmly closed behind her, almost before she’d finished speaking.
“I think I shall go sit on the steps a while, dear Royina,” Liss’s voice called back faintly through the wood. “It’s cooler. I think I shall like to sit out for quite a long time.” Ista heard the outer door close, as well.
Illvin’s eyes were crinkling with silent laughter. He held out one of the fruits to her; she took it, her hand jerking a little when her fingers accidentally brushed his. “Well,” he said, raising his to his lips. “Let us both be brave, then . . .”
She matched his bite. The apricot tasted as wonderful as it looked and smelled, and despite her attempts at daintiness, she ended with juice dribbling down her chin. She dabbed at it. “Oh, dear . . .”
“Here,” he said, moving closer, “let me help you . . .”
The kiss lasted quite a long time, with his apricot-scented fingers winding pleasurably in her hair. When they paused for breath, she remarked, “I always feared it would take divine intervention to find me a lover . . . I do believe I was right.”
“Tch, tch, look at yourself, bittersweet Ista. Saint, sorceress, dowager royina of all Chalion-Ibra, converses with gods, when not cursing them—a man would have to be maniacally intrepid to even think of you in that rude way. . . . This is good. It will cut down on my rivals.”
She couldn’t help it; she giggled. She heard herself, and laughed, in wonder, in joy, in huge surprise. He tasted her laughter, too, as though it were miraculous apricots.
And I