Kushiel's Chosen

gathered up my tumbled locks, raising my arms to lift my bare breasts, tossing my hair back so it fell dark and serpentine down the length of my back, obscuring my marque. "If you would honor Naamah in my name," I said, "make a gift to her Temple. For myself..." I smiled, "... I will bear the marks of your remembrance on my skin."
    "Is it true that you were a spy?" Apollonaire asked suddenly. "Even in Naamah's Service?"
    "Yes." Sitting on my heels, I looked gravely at him. "It is true."
    He leaned on one elbow, face alight with interest. "What would you do, then, if you were spying on us?"
    "Well, my lord." The question amused me, coming from a patron I had chosen wholly without regard to the arts of covertcy; which is likely why I answered it honestly. "I know of no intrigue coming out of Fhirze, but you are well-placed at the Palace, and like to hear gossip, especially since there are the two of you, and no doubt you mull over each day's gleanings together. If there was somewhat I wished to know, like as not I would sound you out."
    "Such as what?" Diànne looked as interested as her brother. I had never reckoned, till now, the erotic potential my former-for all they knew-calling held for my patrons. I smiled and shrugged, turning my hands palm-up on my thighs.
    "Nicola L'Envers y Aragon," I said casually. "Her interest in Marmion Shahrizai is passing strange, is it not? He set himself for the Queen, but she has turned his head."
    "Nicola!" Diànne and her brother exchanged glances, and she laughed. "She hasn't a centime to her name, did you know it? It all went to her husband, through Aragonian law, and what he's not drunk, he's squandered. Whatever she's about, the Duc L'Envers put her up to it, and no mistake. 'Tis rumored that he's invested heavily in the tin trade everyone says will come out of Alba. It's in his interest to keep the Queen and her Pictish King sweet, with no scheming Shahrizai between them."
    If I thought Barquiel L'Envers' schemes boiled down to mere commerce, I'd have slept easier at night. "Coin for her, and tin for him. Well, then, I would have learned somewhat." I shrugged again, and smiled ruefully. "But it would take my lord Anafiel Delaunay to make sense of it."
    "I could tell you somewhat." Apollonaire sat up cross-legged, heedless of his own magnificent nudity. "Though I knelt demurely, I could not help but eye him. I had chosen well, with these two. "The Comte ... the Duc, that is, Percy de Somerville, is not so happy as he seems with the Queen's trust in the Unforgiven. I overheard him quarrelling with Ghislain. He is not so inclined as his son and the Queen to trust in the loyalty of the Black Shields!"
    "My lord Delaunay would have found that interesting," I murmured. It was interesting. Would Ghislain plot with the former Allies of Camlach? Would Percy plot against them? Or was it naught but father-son rivalry? Ghislain had ridden with Isidore d'Aiglemort, the consummate traitor and ultimate hero of Troyes-le-Mont. So had I. Percy had not. It was interesting. So was the Marquis de Fhirze, who beamed at me, proud of his revelation, his sizeable phallus beginning to stir to life.
    I felt my arms caught from behind in an unexpectedly strong grip, elbows drawn together. Diànne's breasts pressed against my back, her voice laughing at my ear. "It seems," she whispered, "my brother is not so tired as he thought.
    Your Delaunay's machinations are an inspiration to the scions of Naamah!"
    So it seemed, for I continued to inspire them for a good while longer.
    One does not reckon, at such times, the cost to one's limbs and joints; there is a limit to the pliancy of the mortal form. I daresay I surpassed it that day, although I have kept myself limber, ever since Delaunay first ordered Alcuin and me to study as tumblers. Still, it was a fine time, for brother and sister alike were wholly without shame in the arts of Naamah, and had honed their desires on the fine edge of Kushiel's cruelty. Some things I learned, and it accomplished what I set out, purging my mind for a time of its endless workings.
    For all of that, my bed was still lonely when I went to sleep at the end of the day, and I still woke shuddering from nightmares.

NINETEEN
    Winter spun out its length in grey, dreary days, chill wind and bluster, and only sometimes a snow that transformed the City into a vista of pristine whiteness, shining towers and icy minarets. I had become quite the fashion by this time, and I accepted