Naamah's Blessing (28 page)

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Authors: Jacqueline Carey

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic, #General, #FIC009020

BOOK: Naamah's Blessing
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“That’s how long the Regent would be in power until Desirée is old enough to take the throne,” Bao said. “That’s what you meant, isn’t it?”

“Exactly.” Balthasar gave a precise nod. “Fourteen years to rule the realm, fourteen years to train his successor. If we fail, that child will never be anything more than a figurehead.”

“Then we’d best not fail,” I murmured.

“I’ll hold up my end of the bargain,” Septimus Rousse said in a steady tone. “And that’s a promise.”

It made me feel a little better.

But only a little.

THIRTY-ONE

W
hen the royal steward rang the bell summoning us to the dinner table, it was time for Desirée to return to the nursery, and time for us to say our final farewells. Now came the realization that this occasion marked the separation to come, and the inevitable tears and protestations.

The assembled peers watched the scene uncomfortably, and Claudine de Barthelme gave Sister Gemma a discreet order to remove the princess forthwith.

I shook my head at her. “Wait, please.”

Although it earned her a none-too-subtle glare from Maman Claudine, the priestess obeyed.

I knelt before Desirée, Bao crouching on his heels beside me. “Dear heart, it’s time to say good-bye for now. Remember how we talked about being brave?”

She nodded.

“Remember this?” I shifted my hands into a reassuring
mudra
, and then a
mudra
of concentration. “And this?”

The effort of concentrating on emulating my gestures distracted Desirée from her tears. “I remember, Moirin. It’s a way to make prayers.”

“Good girl.” I kissed the top of her head. “When you think of Bao and me while we are gone, mayhap you will pray for us, and for your brother, Thierry, and all the men with him, and everyone travelling
with us. All the way across the ocean, it will gladden our hearts, and it will help you to be brave, too.”

She gazed at me with a child’s wide-eyed willingness to believe. “Truly?”

“Truly,” I said firmly. “Now, give us both a good-bye hug.”

“A really, really good one,” Bao added. “As hard as you can, so we’ll feel it for days and days!”

With a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, Desirée obliged, wrapping her slender arms around my neck and squeezing me with fierce strength, burying her face against the curve of my throat. “I love you,” she whispered in a muffled tone. “I do! And I will pray every day, I promise!”

I returned her embrace, pressing one last kiss against her fine, silken hair. “I love you too, dear heart,” I whispered in reply. “And I thank you for your prayers.”

When I released her reluctantly, she hugged Bao with equal fervor. He whispered somewhat in her ear, and rose to his feet holding her. When she unwound her arms from around his neck, Bao tossed her a foot or so into the air, then caught her effortlessly, eliciting a faint, sorrow-tinged giggle from her. After one more hug, he kissed her cheek and set her on her feet.

A soft murmur ran through the hall.

It may not have been as poignant a sight as the tableau Duc Rogier had staged, but it came close—and it was genuine. Not a few peers dabbed at their eyes with handkerchiefs as Sister Gemma escorted the young princess from the hall, Desirée glancing tearfully over her shoulder until the doors closed behind her.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

When I opened my eyes, the Comtesse de Maillet was staring at me with a disdain she could barely conceal. “My granddaughter lacks manners,” she said in a stiff voice. “I must confess that I am sorry to see that behavior that would not be tolerated in the Night Court is encouraged in the Palace. That, I assure you, will change.”

Without thinking, I summoned the twilight.

It could not hide me from a gaze already upon me, but I knew it manifested nonetheless as a visible sparkling in the air around me, a sign that a gate partway into the spirit world had been opened.

A few folk cheered; some whistled in awe. Others raised their hands in an ancient sign to avert evil. Bao gave a low chuckle.

Jehanne’s mother took a step backward.

“Your granddaughter lacks affection,” I said in a precise tone. “Somewhat I am given to understand House Barthelme seeks to provide her. Since you have seen fit to insert yourself into her life, I hope that you will aid them.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but no words emerged.

“Yes, yes, of course!” Duc Rogier came forward, putting his arms around Desirée’s newly found grandparents, steering the whole of the royal family toward the waiting tables, beckoning to all of us. “We are all concerned for her young highness’ well-being. It is a concern you voiced to me long ago, Lady Moirin, and I am doing my best to rectify the lack.” The Duc permitted himself a faint smile. “How fortunate we are that the child’s own grandmother, appointed a peer of the realm by King Daniel himself, has consented to serve as the Royal Governess in the days to come! I am only sorry I did not act sooner.” He met my gaze. “Shall we dine, and toast to the success of your endeavor?”

Holding his gaze, I let the twilight fade. “By all means, my lord.”

We dined.

It was an awkward meal. I daresay a good many of the folk present didn’t appreciate the stakes at play, but I knew.

Duc Rogier made many toasts in honor of the expedition, speaking of it in fulsome terms, giving it his every blessing, praying for our success.
I
knew he was lying through his teeth. And by the cynical expressions on the faces of our allies like Balthasar Shahrizai and Septimus Rousse, they knew it, too.

But others didn’t—not the members of the Great Houses, and surely not the impoverished young noblemen of the Lesser Houses who had pledged themselves to our quest. With every toast, they cheered and stamped their feet.

“To Thierry!” they cried. “Prince Thierry!”


King
Thierry! Long may he live!”

It brought me a certain grim pleasure to see Duc Rogier’s face harden at the reminder that Thierry de la Courcel, if he was indeed alive, was in fact the rightful King of Terre d’Ange. Mostly, though, I wanted this charade of an evening to end. For the first time since my lady Jehanne had come to me in my dream, I was looking forward to getting this venture under way.

And although it seemed that it never would end, at last the evening did. The only thing left to endure was the Duc’s final farewell. There, before all the assembled peers, he clasped Bao’s hands in a respectful manner, and then embraced me warmly and wished us well on our quest.

“All of Terre d’Ange will pray for your success and safe return,” he said in a solemn voice.

I smiled sweetly at him. “Your excellence, I am perfectly well aware that you consider this quest a monumental folly without a chance in the world of succeeding, and that you are only backing it because to do otherwise would lay your grasping ambition bare for all the realm to see.” Pressing my palms together, I bowed to him in the Bhodistani manner. “I will do my best to prove you wrong.”

Rogier de Barthelme gaped at me.

Without giving him a chance to reply, I turned and made my exit from the great hall, Bao beside me.

Outdoors, I felt limp with relief that the ordeal was over. Bao was chuckling over my parting comments.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to hold your tongue all night long,” he said. “Did you see the look on his face?”

“It was foolish of me,” I muttered.

“No, I don’t think so.” Bao shook his head. “You’re right. If you’d faced him down earlier, all it would have done was cause strife and weaken our hand. But this, everyone will remember. You had the final word.”

“Finding Thierry and bringing him safely home will be the final word, my magpie,” I reminded him.

“True,” he agreed.

As endless as the evening had seemed, out of consideration for the morrow’s dawn departure the fête had begun early by D’Angeline standards, and the first stars were only just beginning to emerge when Bao and I returned to our borrowed house. I stood outside for a long moment, breathing in the scent of the cypress trees and the spring-damp soil, listening to the plants in the garden rustle and grow.

After tomorrow, it would be a long, long time before I saw dry land again.

Inside, we confirmed that all was in readiness for our departure, our trunks packed with attire suitable for travel. I strung my faithful yew-wood bow that my uncle Mabon had made for me and tested its draw, finding it as resilient as ever, and then unstrung it and wrapped it in oilcloth for the journey.

At my request, our steward Guillaume Norbert assembled the entire household staff. Bao and I thanked them for their gracious service, presenting each one with a small purse as a token of gratitude.

Each and every one of them tried to refuse it, but I insisted. “You’ve all been very kind,” I said. “And I know ours is hardly the sort of household in which any of you dreamed of serving.”

For the first time since we’d met, Guillaume laughed. “No,” he admitted. “It isn’t. In the long history of House Shahrizai, the door to the seraglio has never been closed for so long. Nonetheless, it’s been a privilege, my lady.” He bowed. “It is a valiant quest you undertake. We will pray, all of us, for your success and your safe return.”

I was grateful to hear the words spoken with sincerity. “My thanks.”

He bowed again. “Of course. I’ll see that you and Messire Bao are awoken in a timely manner, my lady.”

With that done, Bao and I retired to our bedchamber. He eyed me in a speculative manner. “I suppose we ought to sleep, huh? Big day tomorrow.”

“No.” I slid one hand around the back of his neck, tugging his head down for a kiss, feeling the familiar intimacy of our shared
diadh-anam
intertwining. “Unlike your Ch’in greatships, there will be precious little room for privacy aboard this one.
I
suppose we ought to thank Naamah for blessing our union, and celebrate it by offering up many hours of lovemaking as a prayer.”

Bao smiled, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against him. “Oh, good. I like your idea better.”

Ah, gods! We’d come such a long way together; and we had such a long way yet to go. There was another ocean awaiting us, and beyond it, untold dangers. But for tonight, one night, it was enough to simply
be
together.

Piece by piece, we undressed each other, until there were no barriers left and we were naked before one another.

We kissed, long and luxuriantly.

We explored every part of each other as though it were new. I reveled in sheer sensation, in the rasping glide of Bao’s palms over my skin, in the tug of his mouth on my nipples, his clever fingers teasing the cleft between my thighs, eliciting the moisture of desire. Kissing his throat, I inhaled the hot-forge scent of his skin. Working my way lower, I bit his nipples and smiled to see the ridged muscles of his belly contract beneath the caress of my trailing hair, his straining phallus bent upward like a bow.

I took him into my mouth and performed the
languisement
with all my hard-won skill, making him spend.

Pushing my thighs apart, Bao settled himself between them, gazing at me with half-lidded eyes, and returned the favor until I was breathless with pleasure.

Hard once more, he slid up my body and propped himself on his forearms, thrusting into me.

It was good; so good.

The bright lady smiled with brilliant approval.

There was a magic to lovemaking that never faded, an alchemy of the flesh that never failed to evoke wonder. We were two, and we were one. Joined by the spark of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself, an intimacy I’d never known with anyone else, nor ever would. Joined by flesh—
his flesh in me, hot and throbbing, mine encompassing his, wet and eager. Bao’s hips rocked, and mine rose to meet them, enjoying the sensation of fullness advancing and retreating. Sweetly, tenderly, he kissed my lips, thrusting deep inside me all the while.

“Stone and sea!” I gasped, feeling the waves of climax burst within me, my inner walls squeezing his hard shaft.

Bao groaned, sinking hilt-deep inside me, a hot rush of seed spurting.

Afterward, we lay entwined together for a time, heading drowsily toward sleep. I rested my head on Bao’s chest, listening to his strong, steady heartbeat while he toyed lazily with my hair.

“Moirin, when this is over, do you suppose we might start a family?” he asked. “Assuming we live through it, of course.”

“You and your fat babies,” I said sleepily.

“It’s not a jest.”

With an effort, I lifted my head. “I know.”

“Well?” There was a rare vulnerability in his dark eyes. “I know that I am only a Ch’in peasant-boy, and I have done things in my life I’m not proud of. Do you think I would not make a suitable father?”

“Bao!” I sat upright, shocked. “No!”

“It’s just—”

Whatever he meant to say, I silenced it with a kiss. “Having watched you with Desirée, and Ravindra before her, I think you will make a most excellent father.” I gave the gold hoops in his ears a meaningful tug. “No matter what you’ve done. I’ve done foolish things, too. But you are my husband, and I love you, and if we live through this, yes, I will gladly light a candle to Eisheth and bear your fat babies.” With one finger, I poked at his hard, flat abdomen. “Although I am still not convinced of their relative plumpness.”

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