Kushiel's Chosen (12 page)

"Perhaps you will tell us, my lord," I offered.

"And will you pretend interest, for a price?" Harsh- voiced, Severio caught my wrist and gripped it hard, leering. "I have heard, Comtesse, whom you have sworn to serve! In La Serenissima, we keep our courtesans in their proper place, where they belong."

His grip pained me, and in the roughness of his hands, I felt his anger and frustration commingled, his need to strike out at all things D'Angeline and their attitude of implicit superiority toward all that was not. My blood beat quicker, responding to his anger, and I held his gaze steadily through the haze of my veil. "I serve Naamah, my lord, it is true. And for a price, I will pretend absolutely nothing."

There was a little silence around us; Gaspar, Ghislain and Bernadette, I daresay, did not know what transpired. But I knew, and the young Stregazza. If I have one pride in my calling, it is that I have never judged a patron wrongly— and I have never failed to recognize a patron upon meeting, Severio Stregazza was one of mine. After a moment, he released my wrist with a disgusted sound.

"I need a glass of cordial," he said, dismissing himself rudely.

I could not explain to him the compulsions of an
anguis
sette,
and of a surety, I dared not discuss my suspicions concerning Melisande Shahrizai and the deadly coils of intrigue within the Stregazza family. Instead, I smiled. "I have a fancy," I said lightly, "to learn somewhat of La Serenis sima. Surely he can tell me that much, at least."

I inclined my head to them, raising my arms so the scarlet ribbons trailed from my wrists. "Mara, my lady; Naamah's daughter, and Kushiel's handmaiden."

"I told you!" he said to her in drunken triumph.

The woman laughed again, brushing my veil with her fingertips. She was close enough that I could feel the heat of her body and smell
joie
sweet on her breath. "Then I shall have to pay the penalty for losing," she whispered. "We already agreed upon the settlement. When you receive my proposal, remember there is a debt of honor at stake."

"My lady," I said, struggling against dizziness. "I will remember it."

They laughed and moved on. Gaspar Trevalion in his Er emite's costume shook his mock-bearded head at me. "De launay would be proud," he said wryly. "I think."

"I would be honored," Gaspar promised, bowing.

"My lady," he greeted me, a touch out of breath. "It seems the interest you incite rubs off on your companions!"

"A gentleman does not tell," he replied, grinning. "Let me say only that there are some few D'Angeline nobles who think their suits may be heard clearer if I plead for them. They are laying bets on who will be your first patron, my lady."

"Let them," I said with satisfaction. "For now, do you think you might secure us a place at the banquet table?"

"Consider it done."

No formal dinner is served on the Longest Night, but the Queen's table was heaped high at all times and a steady stream of servants came and went, bearing away the empty trays and platters and bringing an endless array of foods. Plates and silver clinked and rattled, gleaming by candlelight, and guests ate and chattered incessantly, lifting wineglasses, dipping fingers in bowls of rosewater to rinse. I dined on pheasant glazed with honey and thyme, so tender and sweet it near melted in my mouth; I daresay Fortun sampled five dishes to my every one. There was a contingent of Cruithne at the table, representatives of Drustan mab Necthana, and we had a lively time conversing once they discovered I was in their midst, for many of them were awkward still with the D'Angeline tongue, and I had not forgotten my sometime role as translator.

"I heard the King of the Dalriada went to war for one night in your arms," he said abruptly. "Is it true?"

"Terre d'Ange is at peace." He steered us through a crowd, then out. "What cost, then, for a Prince of La Ser enissima?"

"My lord," I said mildly, raising my head to meet his gaze. "I have set no price, save what Naamah's honor demands. When the Longest Night has passed, I will entertain offers, and we shall see. But this much, I will say." I smiled, and felt his heat rise at it. "Naamah's interests were ever... eclectic. And you are the only Serenissiman prince in attendance upon my debut returning to her service."

Severio's arms, holding me, tensed, though he did naught but nod. When the Caerdicci air was ended, he released me with a stiff bow, and stalked away. I would hear from him. I had no doubt of it.

All at once, darkness fell. There must have been servants at every candle, to snuff them with such utter thoroughness, and where the lamps hung suspended in chandeliers, they lowered rows of silver cones strung on ropes to extinguish them in all swiftness. Only the lamps in the hollow columns continued to glow, and a single lamp above the mountain crag.

"Let the doors be opened to admit the return of the light!" Ysandre cried imperiously, and the great doors were flung open at her command.

Through them drove a splendid chariot, hung with lamps and drawn by a matched pair of white horses. In it rode the Sun Prince, gloriously garbed in cloth-of-gold, his mask that of a beautiful youth, surrounded by gilded rays. A murmur of awe arose in the hall. Its team moving at an impeccably matched pace, it drew nigh to the foot of the split-open crag. Standing in the chariot, the Sun Prince pointed his gilt spear at the Winter Queen.

"And it please you, Comtesse de Montrève," a man's silken voice insinuated, "I would beg that honor."

Turning, I espied my latest suitor clad as Hesperus, the evening star. His doublet and hose were of a deep twilight blue, and over them he wore a surcoat of a deeper blue silk, the shade of encroaching night. For a rarity, the cut was elegant and simple, flattering his well-made form. His coat was adorned with intricate brocade, and in it were set myriad bits of mirror, so that he glimmered with the subtle light of the evening sky, and a silver star mask obscured his features. I knew him by his voice, his grace and his black hair, that fell in a river of fine-linked braids down his back.

With an immaculate bow, Marmion Shahrizai escorted me onto the dancing floor.

"So tell me," he said, smiling pleasantly, "have you heard from my cousin?"

I smiled back at him, my movements flowing effortlessly with his. "It is strange you should ask, my lord; I was won dering the same about you."

Marmion Shahrizai bent his head tenderly beside mine. "If I heard from Melisande," he murmured in my ear, "the message would likely be delivered at knife-point. But I have been thinking, little Comtesse." He held me at arm's length as we executed a complex series of steps, then drew me in close again as the music slowed. "Someone reached the pos tern gate unchallenged at Troyes-le-Mont, yes? And who was better trusted and less feared than the Queen's pet
anguissette."
His expression never changed, smiling down at me. Only I would have caught the cruelty in it. "You have been in league with my cousin from the first, Comtesse; do not think I am blind to it. I assure you," he whispered, his grip tightening on my hand, "I am watching."