Kushiel's Chosen

small, but well-appointed. She had retired from her position when Maria Stregazza had died, but chose to remain at the Little Court, and Prince Benedicte had seen that she was given a generous pension. We sat sipping tea while she told me of her life and her fond memories of the young Allegra and her family.
    "And the Princess-Consort?" I asked politely. "What was she like?"
    "The Serenissiman wife." Her grey eyes looked shrewdly at me over the rim of her teacup. "That's what they call her, now. 'Twas not so bad, for a time. Oh, she dabbled in intrigue, on behalf of her family, but Benedicte knew how to handle it. No love lost between them, but we all got on well enough. After... well, he should never have married his daughters into the Stregazza. That family's too close-bound as it is. The King wanted it, to cement ties, but all it did was breed suspicion, if you ask me. And resentment."
    "So I've heard," I murmured.
    " 'Tis true enough." She set her teacup down carefully. "They hate us a little, you know. You won't have seen it, yet, with your youth and beauty. They'll be fresh-dazzled with it yet. But when it wears on, year after year, the dazzlement grates. Maria Stregazza came to hate her husband, while her beauty faded, and his did not. She came to hate the sight of D'Angeline faces around her. It's a hard thing."
    "I can imagine," I said, thinking of the unspoken enmity of many of the young noblewomen I'd met. "But it must be different, now, with..." I smiled. "Do they call her the D'Angeline wife?"
    "The Serenissimans do." Felicity d'Arbos smiled back at me. "It was good, at the beginning. She pleased them, taking the Veil of Asherat. 'Twas well-considered. Now, well, there is a bit of a tempest, but it will pass soon, I hope. Do you wish to see her?"
    "Is she receiving visitors?" I asked, surprised. "I've not yet received a response to my request for an audience with Prince Benedicte."
    "Oh, no." She laughed. "He's busy with affairs of state, and she with the young one. I'll put in a word for you, if I may, to see your request granted. It might do her good to see a fresh young face, the poor thing. But she is like to stroll on the balcony over the Queen's Garden at this hour, with the babe. And I have leave to wander the garden, as I helped plant it many years ago."
    Since I wished to give my chevaliers as much time as possible, we adjourned to the Queen's Garden and spent a pleasant time therein. It was wholly enclosed by walls, with a single gate to which Felicity d'Arbos had a key. A tiny fountain burbled at its center, and an abundance of roses bloomed, in profusion of color and scent. She pointed out various hybrids to me, and I'd no doubt of where Allegra's mother had acquired her skill.
    "Ah," Felicity murmured presently, and nodded. "There."
    Attended by two pages and a single guard, a figure strolled the balcony above the garden, tall and slender, clad in an elegant gown of creamy white, overlaid with silver brocade, complimenting the shining silver net of Asherat's Veil. In her arms, Benedicte's young wife held their infant son; I could make out chubby fists waving, and a riot of dark curls. Madame d'Arbos and I both made deep curtsies and held them until they had passed back inside.
    "Poor little lad," Felicity d'Arbos said sympathetically, straightening. " 'Twill be a mercy when he's of an age to foster, and I pray Benedicte has the sense to send him to court in the City of Elua. Maria's kin won't like it, but truth, there's naught for him here in La Serenissima, D'Angeline-bred as he is."
    Having seen what I had of Serenissiman politics, I could not help but agree. Indeed, I remembered my momentary consideration of Severio's proposal with somewhat of a shudder. La Serenissima was a beautiful city, to be sure, but it was not home to one of Elua's line.
    We said a cordial farewell after our stroll, and I promised to send her greetings on to Allegra Stregazza, and urge her to visit with her two young ones. I daresay I should have sent a page in search of my chevaliers, but it had been a long time since I'd had the liberty to go anywhere unaccompanied, and instead assured Madame d'Arbos that I would meet my attendants by the gate.
    So it was that I wandered the halls of the Little Court on my own, guessing rightly that the guards' quarters would be found in the vicinity of the kitchens. Inside the common room, a dozen and more guardsmen laughed and jested, leaping to attention when the sentry on