Kushiel's Chosen

figure drenched in sunlight. "And if I say no?" he asked, not turning around. "What then?"
    "Then you say no." My voice sounded like it belonged to someone else, someone whose heart was not shattering into piercing splinters. Even as Joscelin turned around, one hand clenched around the khai pendant at his breast, my voice continued calmly. "You will stay, and play out your part in leading the Yeshuites to this prophesied homeland in the far north, if that is what your heart commands."
    "My heart!" He laughed harshly, a tearing sound; it might almost have been a sob. He wrenched at the pendant as if to break its chain. "Would that I could make of heart and soul something other than a battleground!"
    I ached for him, and yearned to go to him; since I dared not, I closed my eyes instead. "If that is your choice, then tell the Rebbe that I did as I promised. The Queen will treat them as lightly as she dares, but if they break the law, they will be punished under it." I had spoken to Ysandre of it, before we were done laying our plans. She had agreed, bemusedly, to take my words under advisement.
    Joscelin was staring at me when I opened my eyes. "What else does Ysandre say?"
    It seemed he cared more for the Yeshuites than for me, and it turned my pain to anger, making me reply sharply. "That you are sworn into her service, and she orders you to accompany me to La Serenissima. And that she does not hold lightly with oath-breakers."
    It is perhaps the worst thing one could say to a former Cassiline. His head jerked back as if I had slapped him, nostrils flaring, white lines etching themselves on his face. "Then it seems I must go," he said, biting off the words, "unless I am to break faith all at once with Cassiel, you and the Queen."
    "Yeshua's forgiveness is absolute," I retorted. "If you seek it for one oath broken, why not three?"
    Joscelin's summer-blue eyes held a look very close to hatred. "My lady Phèdre nó Delaunay de Montrève," he said with cruel, deliberate courtesy. "I will see you to La Serenissima, and fulfill my liege's command. And after that, I remand you to Naaman's custody and Kushiel's, since you are so ardent to serve them. Let them have the joy of you.”
    "Fine," I said grimly, rising from the table and tossing down my linen napkin. "Speak to Remy about the travel arrangements. He will tell you all that is needful. You remind me, I have an obligation yet to fulfill."
    I was not even certain, after last night's enactment, that Nicola L'Envers y Aragon would receive me; I'd not intended on this visit, before my unfortunate conversation with Joscelin. But Ti-Philippe returned posthaste from bearing my message: The lady was indeed most anxious to see me. So it was that I went one last time to the Palace, and in part, I was not sorry. I did owe Nicola the assignation I had promised in barter, and it would not have been well-omened to leave with my Service to Naamah incomplete.
    I would have foregone it, though, if Joscelin had come willingly.
    The Palace Guard admitted me without comment, cool and perfunctory. They had no orders to keep me out, though I daresay I'd have been turned away if I had asked to see Ysandre. But Nicola was the Queen's cousin, and they allowed me passage on her explicit order.
    Mayhap it would have been wiser to seek solace in Kushiel's temple, but it was a relief, after all that had gone before, to surrender to a patron's whim. This time, Nicola's bindings held true to a knot, and there was not the least I could undo. Eyes bright with mingled curiosity and cruelty, she wielded the flogger unmercifully until it drew blood, moving me to violent pleasures, which I repaid with all the ardor with which Joscelin had accused me, until she was sated.
    Afterward, she had chilled wine and fruits served, until I said it was time for me to go.
    "No," Nicola said thoughtfully. "I don't think so. You have called the day and time of repaying your debt to me, Phèdre, and I would claim a forfeit for it. I had your promise that I might question you, but I've not done it yet, have I?" "No, my lady." I met her L'Envers eyes and hid a frisson of fear. She was, after all, Barquiel's ally, and I ran a risk in coming here.
    Nicola smiled lazily. She knew; patrons almost always do. "All the Palace says you have fallen out of favor with Ysandre," she said softly. "But I do not believe it. Think of us what you like, but House L'Envers does not break faith with her followers for less than a mortal