Kushiel's Chosen

lady," I said, and meant it.
    That night in the Dome of the Lady, Roxanne de Mereliot held a feast for us. It was a closed affair, for it would not do to have it gossiped about Eisande that the Lady of Marsilikos had received me in state so soon on the heels of my disfavor at the Palace, but splendid nonetheless. I have a fondness for seafood, and Marsilikos is renowned for it. We ate course after course, all plucked fresh from the sea-mussels in their own salt juices, terrines of lobster, sea bream in ginger, filets of sole and salmon, whitefish in flaky pastry. I daresay nearly all of us ate until we were fair groaning; cuisine is reckoned one of the great arts in Terre d'Ange, and we would too soon be at the mercy of Caerdicci cookery.
    Afterward, bowls of warmed water scented with orange blossom were brought round, and we dipped our fingers and wiped them on linen towels, and then sweet almond pastries were served, and a dessert wine from Beauviste that lingered on the tongue with a taste of melons and honey, and Roxanne de Mereliot bid her servants leave us until further notice.
    "Ysandre has written to tell me what you are about, Phèdre," she said without preamble. "From her courier's haste, I thought to see you in Marsilikos some days past."
    "My apologies, my lady," I replied. "I had other business to attend to." 'Twas not for lack of trust that I did not share with her and Rousse what had passed among the Unforgiven. In truth, I had learned naught of use to anyone, and I was uncomfortable enough with their regard to remain silent. To their credit, not a one of Phèdre's Boys even blinked.
    "No matter." She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "Would that we'd had more time, is all. But I have taken the liberty of confirming your arrangements, and clearing their security through Admiral Rousse. The Darielle sails on the morrow, late afternoon; she'll be loading cargo all morn. Your shipment of lead has safely arrived, and your trunks as well. You've passage booked for five to La Serenissima." The Lady of Marsilikos frowned. "Would that there was ought else I could do, Phèdre."
    " 'Tis but a sea voyage, my lady." I shrugged. "A thousand others have done the same, and a thousand shall after me."
    "I have been on one of your sea voyages," Quintilius Rousse rumbled, "and scarce lived to tell the tale, child. I know better. Whatever else Delaunay taught you, he made you an apt compass for trouble. I'm minded to send an escort with you. Three ships, no more."
    Joscelin, Remy, Ti-Philippe, Fortun-all looked at me, while I shook my head slowly. "No, my lord Admiral. I thank you; but no. If I'm to harbor any illusion in La Serenissima that I'm not Ysandre's creature, I can scarce arrive with an escort culled from the Royal Fleet."
    "La Serenissima," Rousse said mildly, "fields a navy which is second to none, child; even to my own. They hold the entire length of the Caerdicci coast, aye, and Illyria too, with fingers stretching into Hellene waters, and eyes that gaze beyond, toward Ephesium and Khebbel-im-Akkad. Peaceful now, aye, but La Serenissima hungers for power, and we have Prince Benedicte de la Courcel alone to thank that her eyes do not turn west. Those who do not fear her are land-locked fools."
    I flushed at that. "My lord, it may be so. If it is, will you defend me with three galleys?"
    "Nay," he growled. "But I can remind them that they do not control the waters yet, and any Serenissiman fool enough to harbor Melisande Shahrizai will answer to Terre d'Ange, with blood if need be!"
    "Admiral." It was Fortun's voice, quiet and even. "Do, and you'll warn every enemy of the nation before we've even set foot on dry land. My lady Phèdre is right. If there is aught to learn, and we stand any chance of learning it, we must rely on the arts of covertcy."
    "You've been at the lad," Quintìlius Rousse sighed, leveling his blue gaze at me. "Child, Anafiel Delaunay was my friend, and I never had better. For his sake, let me afford you such measure of protection as is in my ability to grant. For surely, if he knew the road on which he'd set you, he'd ask no less."
    Roxanne de Mereliot did not speak, but her dark eyes pleaded with me, those of a sovereign and a mother alike. I should have guessed she had a stake in it.
    "My lord." I spread my hands helplessly. "It is too much, and not enough. Fortun is right, your aid would but tie our hands. And if my lord Delaunay were alive to say it, he would surely agree." I