Kushiel's Chosen

a story for another day, and not mine to tell.
    I was just glad it was not Joscelin's.
    A long night, and a long day to follow it. I made a report in full to Ysandre at one point, detailing all I could remember from my arrival in La Serenissima to my return and my appearance in the balcony. It took the better part of two hours, and Ysandre's Secretary of the Presence, the Lady Denise Grosmaine, wrote furiously the entire time, quill scratching against the parchment. I'm not sure which of us was more tired when I had finished. Ysandre merely looked at me with her brows raised.
    "Blessed Elua and his Companions surely watch over you, Phèdre," she remarked. "For I cannot think how else you are alive to tell me this."
    "Nor can I, my lady," I said wearily. "Nor can I."
    She took my hand, her gaze turning sober. "And over me, Phèdre nó Delaunay, to have given me such a servant as no mortal deserves. Anafiel Delaunay swore an oath to my father out of love. I did not ask you to keep it in his name. Nonetheless, know that I am grateful for it, beyond the telling of words. His memory lives in your deeds. I will not forget either."
    I nodded, unable to speak for the tears that choked me. Ysandre smiled gently, squeezed my hand and released it, and I gave silent thanks to Blessed Elua that he had sired a line that had begotten this scion, worthy of serving.
    If not for the incipient war unfolding at home, we would have lingered longer in La Serenissima. There were a good many affairs to be set in order, not the least of which was the inheritance of the Little Court. With Benedicte's daughters both accused of treason and his infant son missing, the lines of succession pointed clearly to Severio. I spoke on his behalf, for I reckoned I owed him as much-he had saved my life, after all-but in the end, Ysandre elected to appoint a member of her own entourage, the Vicomte de Cherevin, to serve as steward of the estate until the matter was settled.
    'Twas a dangerous post, and he accepted it with equanimity, knowing full well the risks entailed. De Cherevin was a man who had served under Ganelon de la Courcel as Ambassador to Tiberium, and he was unwaveringly loyal and wise to the ways of Caerdicci politics.
    Even so, it took two full days to take care of the business of securing the Little Court and gain the Doge's approval of the arrangements. On the second day, Ricciardo and Allegra Stregazza came to call upon the Queen of Terre d'Ange.
    Ysandre received them unhesitatingly, based on their own actions and my advice as well, if I may say so. Ricciardo's prestige and that of the entire Sestieri Scholae had risen since the melee at the Temple; he was accorded a popular hero, for defying his brother to put down the riots. Ysandre dealt graciously with them, and it did my heart good to see Allegra Stregazza's face alight at being thanked for her role-for it was she who had received my message hidden in the Yeshuite scroll and persuaded Ricciardo to action.
    "Comtesse de Montrève." They paused upon leaving the audience, and Ricciardo stooped to kiss me in gratitude. "You have preserved my life, and more," he said fervently. "If there is aught I can do for you, name it."
    "There is, actually," I said, glancing at Allegra. "My lord, in Terre d'Ange, the Servants of Naamah are protected by secular guild-laws. I have noted in La Serenissima how the courtesans' quarter is despised, one of the meanest sections of the city. If you would honor me for what I have done, mayhap the courtesans of La Serenissima might be brought within the fold of the Sestieri Scholae. If it is their will to pursue this occupation, let them be trained and educated, and accorded guild-laws for their own protection and benefit."
    Ricciardo responded with open-mouthed surprise, but I saw a glimmer of daring and comprehension in Allegra's eyes. She had studied the ways and manners of Terre d'Ange, envying our freedom in matters of love; if there was any woman in La Serenissima who would be willing to undertake the elevation of the courtesan class, it was Allegra Stregazza.
    'Teach them to read and write, the gentle arts of poesy and conversation?" she asked, smiling a little. "Those skills reckoned unfit for noblewomen?"
    "Yes, my lady." I smiled back at her, inclining my head. "Precisely."
    Ricciardo closed his mouth and swallowed, looking at his gracious and capable wife. "Comtesse," he then said to me. "In your honor, I shall so endeavor."
    "I am glad to hear