Kushiel's Dart

to celebrate the triumph of our debut."
    Before she could answer, there was a stir at the door. One of the players gasped, and a hush fell over their quarters as a tall man in courtier's fin'ery entered. I knew him by his long, clever face and his habit of waving a perfumed kerchief under his nose: Lord Thierry Roualt, the King's Minister of Culture. Japheth composed his features and bowed.
    "My lord Roualt," he said carefully. "You honor us."
    "Yes, of course." The Minister of Culture waved his kerchief, sounding bored. "Your play was not displeasing. You will perform it for His Majesty's pleasure five days hence. My undersecretary will see to your needs." Another flourish of the kerchief. "Good eve."
    They held their breath until he had departed, then burst into cheers and hugs. Japheth grinned at Thelesis. "Now you must join us!"
    The Mask and Lute is a players' house, and only Guild-members and their guests are allowed. As the King's Poet, of course, Thelesis de Mornay would have been welcome at any time, but I would not have been admitted alone, and so was happy at the chance. I sat and sipped my wine, marvelling at how the players carried on like children with their quarrels and dramas, when they held such power onstage. It reminded me of the bitter rivalries that went on behind the scenes among the adepts of Cereus House.
    Thus I paid little heed while Japheth and Thelesis spoke of poesy, but when their talk turned to politics, it caught my Delaunay-trained ear. "I heard a rumor," he said, lowering his voice. "One of my troupe had it from the steward of the Privy Chamber, who is enamored of her. It is said that the Due d'Aiglemort met in secret with the King, to bid for the Dauphine's hand. Is it true?"
    Thelesis shook her head. "I had not heard it. But I have no contacts in the Privy Chamber," she added with a smile.
    "Well, indeed." Japheth made a face. "Who would, were it not for the merits such gossip may afford? But I bade her keep it silent, for the nonce. I've no wish to jeopardize our chances of playing before the King."
    "And you shall, splendidly."
    I held my tongue for all of three seconds, but could not resist. "What was the King's answer?" I asked as innocently as I could.
    "He declined, and would give no reason." Japheth shrugged. "As he has to every suitor. That is what I heard. Mayhap d'Aiglemort thought he was owed a boon, for bringing House Trevalion to justice. And mayhap he is, but not this one," With that,Jie turned the talk to other matters.
    Though I was neither poet nor player and could not follow all their talk, I am well enough read that I enjoyed it and the whole of the evening most heartily. When Thelesis' coach took me back to Delaunay's house, I thanked her again. She gave me her warm smile and took my hands.
    "It gladdened me to cheer your spirits, Phedre," she said kindly. "I have known Anafiel Delaunay a long time. If you have care in your heart for him, do not judge him too harshly for it. He has lost a great deal in his life, and not the least of it is his verses. Were it not for . . . well, for several things, he, and not I, might be the King's Poet. Alcuin is good for him, though Delaunay himself may not know it. Allow him this small happiness."
    "I will try, my lady," I promised, abashed by her goodness. She smiled again, and bid me good night.
    If it had not been for what happened later, I might have taken no notice of the playwright's bit of news. Of a surety, I told Delaunay, who heard it without surprise; he was only surprised, I thought, that it had taken Isidore d'Aiglemort this long to ask. What he thought of the King's response, I do not know, save that it was no more than he expected. And with that, I would have put it out of my mind, save that a day later, an invitation arrived for Delaunay, bidding him to attend the royal staging of Japheth no Eglantine-Vardennes' Passion of Naamah .
    Being Delaunay, he made little of it; it was hardly the first time he had been invited to court. But I saw the invitation, and it bore the seal of House Courcel.
    As matters fell out, I was contracted the very day of the performance to fulfill my promise to Lord Rogier Clavel, who had returned from Khebbel-im-Akkad with the Due L'Envers. I half looked forward to it, for it would be easy work, and I had hopes that his second patron-gift would equal his first. He had offered to send his own coach, an offer Delaunay had declined, but he sent word to accept Clavel's conveyance after