Naamah's Kiss (48 page)

Not much surprised those two, but I saw their eyes widen at the sight of my father in his crimson robes.

"Master Lo Feng." I bowed in the Ch'in manner. "Forgive my tardiness. This is my father, Brother Phanuel Demarre, only just returned to the City. Father, this is Master Lo Feng and, um Bao."

"Filial duty takes precedence." Lo Feng waved away my apology. He bowed to my father. "It is an honor."

My father clasped hand over fist and returned his bow as gracefully as though he'd been doing it all his life. "Well met, my lord. The honor is mine. I understand you're teaching my daughter to breathe?"

Master Lo Feng's eyes crinkled. "You find it strange?"

My father smiled his lovely smile. "I find it unfamiliar. But I am eager to learn more if you are willing to suffer a novice's presence."

Unexpectedly, my mentor chuckled and stroked his two-pointed beard. "Your path chose you long ago, Brother Phanuel. I do not think this humble scholar has much to teach you. But I would be honored by your presence."

My father inclined his head. "And I grateful for your forbearance."

There were only three mats. After a discussion fraught with insistence and demurral, my father accepted one, thanking Bao for his sacrifice. Bao shrugged and didn't reply, but his face was softer than I'd ever seen it, except for a few unguarded moments when he looked at Master Lo Feng.

I sat cross-legged on my mat, emulating Lo Feng. My father knelt on his, sitting effortlessly on his heels and tucking the folds of his robes beneath his legs. Bao stooped over the brazier and blew on the embers, making them flare to life, then retreated to keep watch over us.

"So." Master Lo Feng tucked his hands into his sleeves. "The Breath of Embers Glowing"

I listened.

I breathed.

Mostly, I stole glances at them. And it seemed to me that day that there were so many kinds of beauty in the world. They were all so very different, these three men from three generations. My father's presence seemed to illuminate it.

When it was over, Master Lo Feng chided me for my inattentive-ness, but he did it nicely. And then he asked to have a few private words with my father.

Bao and I withdrew to the far side of the courtyard and stood together in awkward silence. I tried to think of something to say, but between my lingering weariness and sudden happiness, my mind was a blank.

"He's nice," Bao ventured at length in a grudging manner.

I was just pleased that he'd deigned to speak to me. "He is, isn't he? I liked him as soon as I met him."

He frowned. "You never met him before?"

I shook my head. "Only a little while ago. I grew up in Alba with my mother."

"Huh." He leaned on his staff and stared at the two men conversing.

Well, it had been a promising start. "Where did you grow up?"

Bao screwed up his face. "I do not know the word. People who do" Unexpectedly, he tossed his staff high in the air and threw a standing somersault. He caught the staff on its descent, planted the butt, and vaulted into a flip, landing with the staff tucked neatly under one arm. "Like so."

"Stone and sea!" I clapped. "That's wonderful!" He shrugged. "So you were born into a circus family?" I prompted him. "Performers? Acrobats and jugglers?"

"Not born." Bao's face darkened. "Sold."

"Oh." I felt like an idiot. Belatedly, I remembered that Lo Feng had said Bao was a child of violence. "I'm sorry. How old were you?"

"Three." He summoned a fierce, hard smile. "Fifteen when I run away."

"Is that when you met Master Lo Feng?"

"No." Bao eyed me. "Why you ask so many questions?"

"I'm curious."

"Why?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I just am."

At that moment, Master Lo Feng called us over. My father smiled and reached out his hand and I took it.

"Strangely, I find all this breathing has given me an appetite," he said. "Moirin, would you join me for an early dinner?"

I smiled back at him. "I'd love to."

We dined at an inn in a part of the City known as Night's Doorstep because it was at the base of the hill where the Houses of the Night Court resided. It encompassed the Tsingani quarter and the inn was owned by a Tsingano. It was called the Cockerel and it had a long and venerable history in the City. The owner was a tall, scowling fellow with an imposing mustache, but he broke into a wide grin at the sight of my father.

"Brother Phanuel!" He beckoned with both hands. "Come, come. Always a table for you."

"Thank you, Stefan." My father laid a hand on my shoulder. "This is my daughter, Moirin."

The Tsingano raised his fist to his mouth and bit his knuckle. "Such a beauty! Not born of any milk-white D'Angeline, either. Was her mother one of ours?"

"I was born to the Maghuin Dhonn," I said.

His eyes widened and he took a step backward. "You're the witch! The one they're all talking about."

"She's my daughter," my father said mildly.

"Of course." Stefan didn't quite meet his eyes. "There is a fine dish of stuffed cabbages if you and your daughter are hungry, Brother Phanuel."

"That would be very pleasant, thank you."

Although I would have enjoyed it more if the innkeeper weren't looking askance at me, the food was simple and hearty and good, and we washed it down with tankards of foaming ale.

"So." My father pushed his empty plate away. "Master Lo Feng is concerned about you. He says you've been engaged in some secret business with Raphael de Mereliot that how did he put it? Drains your vital chi."

I toyed with my last bite. "I'm fine."

"Moirin."

We may have known each other only a short time, but that was a parent's voice to be sure. I sighed. "I promised not to speak of it. But it's all right. It's over. I won't be doing it anymore."

He leveled a stern green, green gaze at me. "You promise?"

"Yes! I promise."

"Do I need to speak to Lord de Mereliot?"

"No!" I laid one hand on my chest. "I'm trying to follow my diadh-anam . But whatever it requires, I don't think that was it." Unless it had aught to do with the topaz jewel lodged in my thoughts, anyway.

"All right." My father relaxed. "So everything else passes well? I trust that Jehanne's not bedeviled you beyond bearing since you're still keeping company with de Mereliot. You've managed to avoid further entanglements on that front?"

"Ahh" I remembered seeing a pair of letters addressed to me and stamped with the crest of House Courcel on the receiving tray at the townhouse. I'd hurried out without bothering to open them. "Well. Almost."

He frowned. "What?"

"Prince Thierry has been courting me," I admitted. "I may have, um, encouraged him more than I intended."

My father closed his eyes. "You bedded the Dauphin?"

"Only once!"

His shoulders shook. He wiped one hand over his face and got himself under control. When he opened his eyes, they were bright with a mixture of mirth and rue. "Moirin Elua have mercy!"

"It was only once," I repeated.

My father shook his head. "One thing's for sure. Whatever else you may be, you're Naamah's child and no mistake."

My father stayed in the City for a whole month. It was the nicest time I'd had since I came there. The scholarly members of the Circle had retreated into their arcane research. In the absence of activity, the rumors faded as the gossipmongers of Terre d'Ange moved on to the next topic.

My strength returned, drip by drip.

To be sure, there were setbacks. Raphael concentrated on his work as a physician. A few times, he asked my aid, but only in times of dire need. That, I couldn't begrudge. Together, we saved the life of a woman in childbirththe young Marquise d'Ilon. She'd begun bleeding heavily during labor.

We staunched the bloodflow, Raphael and I.

There were times when I thought I did love him, and that was one of them. When he placed the squalling babe in the grateful young mother's arms and grinned at me through his exhaustion, hair plastered to his brow. He'd attended her while she labored for hours before he sent for me, knowing the toll it would take to aid him.

There were times when I didn't.

There was Jehannealways Jehanne. The three of us existed in an uneasy truce. The City thrived on discussing it. But it seemed for the moment that she tolerated me and was issuing no ultimatums.

There was Thierry.

He was stubborn and persistent, wooing me with a mix of patience and humor. And he was good company. During those times that Raphael was either attending the Queen or occupied with his duties, I accepted Thierry's invitation to escort me to various functions.

I attended the theater for the first time with him.

I heard my first harpsichord concert.

These were wondrous and magical things to me, and Thierry reveled in sharing them with me. I liked that about him.

I just didn't love him.

But for the most part, I kept up my lessons with Master Lo Feng and I spent as much time as I could with my father.

He liked to walk the City and I liked to walk it with him. I loved seeing that mantle of grace that spread in his wake. He went to the richest and the poorest quarters. It made no difference to him. From time to time, bold strangers, men and women alike, would approach him, fingering the folds of his robes.

"Will you invoke Naamah's blessing for me, Brother?" they would ask.

When he was with me, he always shook his head. "Today, I can give you only my own good wishes."

"What's the difference?" I asked him the first time it happened.

My father smiled at me sidelong.

I understood. "Oh."

I thought a lot about thatthe act of love as a benediction, a physical manifestation of divine grace.

It was a lovely notion.

It was a very D'Angeline notion.

And it was something I yearned for. I understood it in the marrow of my bones. It was the source of the infinite brilliance behind the bright lady's smile. And there was passion and compassion and glory and wonder in it. And there was nothing in it that brought sorrow to the magnificent gaze of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself.

One day, I thought, I would know it.