Kushiel's Chosen

offense, and my cousin the Queen is as much L'Envers as she is Courcel. What game do you play now, Phèdre nó Delaunay?"
    I did not answer, but said instead, "One rumor says Marmion Shahrizai rode straight for the Aragonian border, and has not been seen since. Did you offer him sanctuary?"
    Her brows creased in a frown, then she laughed again, ruefully, and shook her head. "I should know better, after the first time. All right, then. Yes. I did." Nicola gave me a long, level look. "Marmion had word of what Barquiel was about, and he came to me the eve before, and told me the truth about the fire. I believed him. I do not disagree with my cousin the Duc's motives, but his methods ..." She shrugged. "He threw Marmion's life away, at that hearing. I told him if the worst fell out, the House of Aragon would receive him, if he made it there alive. I gave him Ramiro's name, and my word as surety. That, and no more."
    "Your husband would take him in?" It surprised me, a
    little.
    "Marmion likes to drink, and gamble. He's an excellent courtier. Why not?" Nicola gave another shrug. "Ramiro knows the merits of indulging my whims, and it does not cross de Morhban's edict. Aragonia is exile. Believe me, I know. Will you answer me now?"
    I shook my head, slowly.
    "Blessed Elua!" She spat out the words like a curse, rising to pace restlessly about the room. "You and Barquiel... Phèdre, you're on the same side, only you're both too mistrustful to see it. Can't you see that with his resources and your wiles, you'd get a lot further working together?" She shot me a frustrated look. "Why would I lie? Any influence I hold in Aragonia is wholly dependent on Ysandre's retaining the throne of Terre d'Ange."
    "Not exactly," I murmured, glancing at her. "Your cousin the Duc would do just as well, I think. And if he wishes me out of the way, he would be indebted to you for aiding him in the process. He's already disposed of Marmion, and Elua help me, I gave him the means to do it. Would I be wise, you think, to trust?" I shook my head. "Barquiel is more enemy than ally, and Ysandre has withdrawn her favor. Our debt is settled, and in Naamah's eyes, I owe you naught. I am not fool enough to linger here, my lady."
    "So I heard. One of your chevaliers was reported buying travelling stores in the marketplace this very morning." She said it matter-of-factly; I hadn't doubted that the eyes of the City would be on my household, after last night. Nicola's gaze lingered on my face, and it was decisive. "Phèdre, listen to me," she said, her voice low and urgent, stooping in front of my chair to grasp my hands. "I don't know what you're about and when you come to it, I don't blame you for not telling me. But what I do know for truth, I know all the same. Cousin Barquiel is not a traitor." She drew a deep breath, paling slightly, and continued. "The password of House L'Envers is 'burning river.' If you need aid-mine, Barquiel's, even Ysandre's-any scion of the House is honor-bound to give it unquestioning."
    "Why are you telling me this?" My voice shook asking it.
    "What does it matter?" Releasing my hands, Nicola stood and smiled wryly. "Whatever I told you, you'd only come up with half a dozen reasons, each more sinister than the last. As it happens, I've seen my House torn apart by suspicion and enmity once, and I don't care to see it again. Your lord Delaunay and my cousin Isabel pulled Rolande de la Courcel in twain; I don't need to watch you and Barquiel do the same to Ysandre. But it doesn't matter what you believe. Just remember it."
    I wanted to believe her; I wanted to question her. In the end, I dared do neither. At the door of her quarters, she gave me the kiss of farewell, and kept me for a moment, one hand on my arm, a peremptory touch that stirred my desires.
    "Cousin Barquiel would have my tongue for what I told you," Nicola said quietly. "But he'll answer to it all the same. Do me a favor, and don't put it to the test unless you're truly in need."
    "If you will do me the kindness of nursing your suspicions in silence," I murmured.
    Nicola laughed at that and kissed me again, this time as a patron rather than a peer. "If you hold to that bargain as well as this one, I will promise it." Releasing me, she cocked her head as I regained my composure. "I like you, Phèdre," she said with regret. "For whatever reason you're going, I'm sorry for it. I'll miss you."
    "So will I," I said, and meant it.
    I made the rest of my farewells that