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as she knows, we might be dead in Jebe-Barkal right now, slain by bandits and Imriel with us. Will it really make it so much worse if we return by way of La Serenissima and not Iskandria? For better or for worse, Melisande loves her son, and that’s the only cord that will bind her. We only have the chance to try it once.”
    “Why?” he asked. “Why only once, why now?”
    I told him the card I meant to play.
    He sighed and rubbed aching temples. “All right. All right. We may as well be hung for a cow as a calf at this point. Ah, Elua, like as not it will be faster, if we’re not killed or abducted in the process. I hope Ricciardo Stregazza has kept our horses fit and ready for travel.”
    “You see?” I said. “We would have had to go to La Serenissima anyway.”
    One of the Palace slaves awoke us at dawn, and I gave word to the guard on duty outside our doors. He nodded impassively and strode away, returning in short order with porters to bear our belongings back to the covered carriage. No one in the Palace acknowledged our presence as we left. It was a strange feeling. We had to hurry to catch the ship, which was nearly ready to sail by the time we reached the harbor.
    “La Serenissima?” one of the guards shouted to a sailor onboard.
    “Aye!”
    “Hold for three passengers!”
    They waited while we were hustled aboard the ship, our trunks loaded. Joscelin snatched his weapons from the guard’s hands, slinging his baldric over one shoulder and settling his belt about his waist.
    “Come on, then, hurry,” the ship’s captain said in Caerdicci, hands on his hips. “We’re out to catch the last of the autumn winds.”
    “Autumn,” I murmured. “It’s autumn?”
    “Aye. Nearly winter.” He eyed me strangely, as well he might, for I wore one of my Jebean gowns, pinned at the breast, with bracelets of ivory and gold encircling both wrists. I’d meant to have clothing made in Iskandria, or begged some of Juliette Laniol, the Ambassador’s wife. “You’re D’Angeline, my lady?”
    “She is the Comtesse Phèdre nó Delaunay de Montrève of Terre d’Ange,” Joscelin informed him, adjusting his baldric.
    “Well, she’s like to take a chill on the open sea in that attire,” the captain said. He eyed me again. “Not that I’m like to complain. Stand by to weigh anchor!”
    And with that, we were off.

Eighty-Five
    IT TOOK the last of our trader’s coin to pay our passage aboard the ship, and the berth was small. By the time we were out of sight of land, the winds turned chilly, and I was forced to barter with one of the Serenissiman sailors for a thick cloak of coarse-spun wool. He’d have given it to me for a kiss-which Joscelin failed to note, being incapacitated with his customary battle with seasickness-but I paid him instead with the crystal beads salvaged from one of my ruined gowns, which was more than the cloak was worth.
    At least aboard the ship there was a good deal of time to talk, for we had a good deal of talking to be done, and much of it to Imriel. Ultimately, my plan rested on his decision, and I meant to be certain it was wholly his.
    “Why is Queen Ysandre so angry at you?” he wanted to know. “Because of me? But it was my fault-I followed you.”
    “I know,” I said. “But we could have returned you. And that was our choice.” And I explained to him once again the long history of his family, House Courcel, and the blood-quarrels that had divided it, and how Ysandre wished to make an end of it by bringing him into the fold. “It’s a noble purpose, Imri. You’ll like her. You’ll like her very much. I do. There is no one I admire more.”
    He frowned, sitting cross-legged on deck in his Jebean breeches and chamma . It was still warm in the sun if one sat out of the wind. “Valère L’Envers wants me dead.”
    “It may be,” I said. “But Nineveh is a long way from the City of Elua.”
    “Where her father is the Royal Commander.”
    “Yes,” I said. “He is that.”
    There was nothing childish about Imriel’s face as he considered it.
    “House L’Envers will not be pleased with the Queen’s decision. And they are powerful.”
    “Not more powerful than the Queen,” I said.
    He bent his head and fiddled with the pouch at his belt, his voice nearly inaudible. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.”
    “Nor would I,” I said gently, touching his arm. “Imri, listen to me. You have strong feelings for Joscelin and me because we found you in