Kushiel's Chosen

day." His deep blue gaze rested on my face. "My lady Phèdre no Delaunay de Montrève," he said, caressing my name. My knees turned to water. "For a short life, you have a long history with House Shahrizai."
    Along with his sister Persia, Marmion Shahrizai betrayed his cousin Melisande, mayhap the most dangerous act any of their House could undertake, giving her unto the custody of Duc Quincel de Morhban, the sovereign Duc of their province of Kusheth. I watched them bring her into Ysandre's impromptu court at the fortress of Troyes-le-Mont, after the battle was won. I was there at the hearing, where Melisande was accused of treason.
    I gave the testimony that condemned her.
    "My lord Shahrizai." With all the willpower I could summon, I made my voice cool. "Your loyalty to the throne has prospered you."
    He laughed, and bowed. "How not, when it has such a lovely occupant?" he said for Ysandre's benefit. "Her majesty is wise beyond years, to recognize that the treachery of one member of a House does not taint all born within it." With one last florid bow, he turned away.
    I let out a shaking breath.
    "I should have warned you." Ysandre gave me a compassionate glance. "He's been a great help, actually; we uncovered several of Melisande's allies thanks to Marmion. I'd forgotten about your ... long history with his House."
    "Allies." I wrestled my thoughts into order. "But not Melisande?"
    "No." Ysandre shook her head. "She's gone well and truly to earth, Phèdre, like a fox; and I suspect she's far beyond the borders of Terre d'Ange. Wherever she is, her power here is broken. What allies she had, have been executed, and no one, I think, would be fool enough to trust her with a bounty on her head. I promise you, you've naught to fear from Melisande Shahrizai."
    Once upon a time, I was young and naive enough to have thought a Queen's reassurance beyond question. Now, I merely smiled and thanked Ysandre for her concern, holding my fear in check and gazing about the Hall of Games, wondering where the traitors lay.
    Of their presence, I had no doubt.

FOUR
    I he key to finding the traitor in the Queen's inner circle was hidden in that night at Troyes-le-Mont. Of that much, I was certain. Melisande Shahrizai had vanished from a well-guarded chamber in a fortress on high alert, and someone had helped her do it. If I could figure out how it was done, I would have the beginning of a trail to follow.
    It was Fortun, the steadiest of my chevaliers, who hit upon the notion of mapping out the route of Melisande's escape. "Do you know where she was held, my lady?" he asked thoughtfully. "The ground floor, or the second?"
    Joscelin gave me a long look.
    "It was the second floor," I said.
    Melisande had sent for me that night and, like a fool, I had gone, meeting with her in her royal prison-cell. What had passed between us was of no account, save that it left me shaken. Afterward, I retired to the high walls, wishing to be alone with my tangled emotions, awaiting her execution at dawn. For all that she deserved it-there was no doubt, in the end, that Melisande Shahrizai had conspired with the Skaldi warlord Waldemar Selig to overthrow the throne of Terre d'Ange-I couldn't bear to watch. She had been my patron, once.
    It had never come. Instead, daybreak found two guards dead outside her chamber, and a third at the postern gate.
    "So if the corridor was here ..." Kneeling beside the low table in my sitting room, Fortun plucked a long-stemmed iris from a vase and laid it lengthways atop the table. "How far from the stairs?"
    I counted on my fingers, remembering. "Three doors. No, four. Her chamber was the first door past the corner."
    "Here, then." He broke the flower's stem, bending it at an angle, then setting an empty cordial glass at one end. "And the stairs, here.”
    "Yes." Leaning over the table, I studied it. "Near enough."
    Across the room, Joscelin shoved himself to his feet. "Phèdre."
    "Yes?" I glanced up from the table.
    "Leave them out of it." His expression was unreadable. "If you insist on playing dangerous games, so be it. Don't drag these poor, besotted boys into your intrigues. I can't protect the lot of you."
    "Did I ask you to?" I felt my ire rise. "If it disturbs you so greatly, then leave. Throw yourself at the feet of the Prefect and beg forgiveness. Or go tell Ysandre I release you from my service, and beg leave to attend her. She's used to having Cassilines around."
    Joscelin gave a short laugh. "And let you go