Kushiel's Chosen

whispered. "Have a care, Phèdre, and come home safe." She drew back and smiled gently at me. "Blessed Elua keep you."
    "And you," I murmured, gripping her hands. "And you."
    On the night the first part of it was to be implemented, I told my chevaliers of my plan. Would that Joscelin had been there, too, but I had played my game too closely; he had gone out that afternoon and not yet returned. I had no choice but to tell them, first dismissing my servants for the evening and swearing Phèdre's Boys to secrecy.
    Predictably, they were overjoyed-even steady Fortun's eyes gleamed with excitement. Not two minutes was it out of my mouth but they were already planning the excursion, dividing up responsibility among themselves. Amused, I let them have at it.
    I chose Fortun to escort me to the natal festivities of the Duchese de Chalasse that night, and left the others with two cautions. "Whatever you hear said of me," I said, looking especially at Ti-Philippe, "do not bely the underlying truth of it, mind? And when Joscelin returns, do not tell him. Let him know I would speak to him first thing, and leave it to me."
    They promised, albeit reluctantly on the latter point. I threatened to leave whomever broke his word in the City of Elua, and left satisfied that they would obey.
    Of that night, I will say little, save that it went as planned. Vivianne de Chalasse held great sway in L'Agnace; indeed, hers had been the sovereign duchy in the province until Ysandre had raised Percy de Somerville to the rank of Duc, and granted him ascendance. There was little ill-feeling over it-no one questioned that de Somerville had earned it, for commanding the defense against the Skaldic invasion-but enough that the Queen and Cruarch were impelled to attend the fête, smoothing any feathers that might remain ruffled.
    I do not have a player's skill, but I daresay I dissemble well enough; and it was no hardship, to flirt and dance with Drustan mab Necthana. He played along with it with surprising grace, smiling and returning my banter in a mix of D'Angeline and Cruithne, and dancing with an elegance that belied his misshapen right foot. It was not difficult, finding a rhythm that accommodated his halting gate. He had lived with it since birth; one easily forgot that Drustan was lame. I remembered Delaunay's words, so long ago, light and amused. And Ysandre de la Courcel, flower of the realm, shall teach a clubfoot barbarian prince to dance the gavotte.
    For her part, Ysandre did not overplay her role, but when I heard her voice, cold as the Bitterest Winter, ask if I were finished with her husband and would mind returning him to his wife, the Queen of Terre d'Ange, I swear, I felt the chill on my skin, and my flush was genuine. If Drustan's sudden gravity was feigned, no one would ever know it. All around us, D'Angeline nobles stepped back several paces as I made myself answer with studied indolence, a favored young courtesan trading on her stature.
    "Phèdre nó Delaunay," Ysandre said coolly, omitting my title. "Your presence is no longer pleasing to us. We ask that you remove yourself from it."
    With that, she turned her back on me, and even though it was as we had planned, I could not but help feeling my heart sink within me. Insolence to patrons is one thing, when it fans the embers of their desire, but the instinct for obedience is deep-rooted in me, and I was hard put not to throw myself at her feet and beg forgiveness. Thankfully, Fortun hurried to my side to take my arm, tugging me away, and in a corridor of silence, we left the fête.
    Behind us, I could hear the eternal murmurs rising.

TWENTY-SIX
    "You what?" Joscelin's voice rose incredulously. "Phèdre, what were you thinking?"
    "Done is done." I looked steadily at him. "I would have told you last night, but you weren't to be found. By now, the City will know that I am out of favor with the Queen. And on the morrow, we depart for La Serenissima. After what transpired last night, no one will think it strange. And no one will think me Ysandre' s agent in this."
    "I can't believe Ysandre agreed to it," he muttered.
    I looked down at my plate and toyed with a quartered pear. "It does not please her," I admitted, "but she agreed. Joscelin, I won't compel you. Will you go or not?"
    He rose without answering, and paced the dining hall to gaze out a window that overlooked my tiny rear courtyard, where Eugenie had planted the beginnings of an herb garden. I sat watching him, his tall