Kushiel's Dart

jest. "If not House Shahrizai."
    "If the Prince of Travellers thinks I've been waiting for the moment my marque was made, that he might deem me worthy, he's sore mistaken," I said, giddy with relief. "Let him court me, if he wishes it. And Melisande is too interested in seeing how far I will run with her collar on me," I added, fingering the diamond at the end of the velvet cord, color rising to my face.
    Delaunay forbore to comment on it, for which I was grateful. "Phedre," he said instead, his tone sober, "you are a member of my household, and bear my surname. If ever you doubted it, know well, I would never, ever cast you out."
    "Thank you, my lord," I murmured, unexpectedly moved. He grinned at me.
    "Even if your service fills Naamah's coffers and your own, rather than mine." He hefted the remains of my gown. "Shall I send this to a gem-merchant, then?"
    "Yes, my lord," I said, adding fervently, "please."
    It would be some days before the whole of the transaction could be completed; with Delaunay's permission, I took a sullen Joscelin as my escort and rode to Night's Doorstep, albeit by day. Alcuin lent me his saddle horse, and though the winter air was bitter, it was a pleasure to ride on horseback rather than cloistered in a coach. My last memory of a coach had too much of Melisande Shahrizai in it, and I welcomed the cold air clearing my thoughts.
    I wore the diamond, though. I couldn't quite bear to remove it, and tried not to think too much about why.
    Hyacinthe was supervising a handful of young men, easing a battered carriage into the stables he leased. "Phedre!" he shouted, catching me in his arms and swinging me around. "Look at this. I've nigh got a full-fledged livery service now. A noble's carriage, and I bought it for a song."
    Joscelin leaned against the weathered wall of the stable, ashen garments rendering him nearly invisible. "Then you paid a verse too high, Tsin-gano," he said, nodding at the warped wheels and missing spokes. "Stripping that fancy trim won't cover the cost of repairing the wheels."
    "Happily, Sir Cassiline, I know a cartwright who will also work for a song," Hyacinthe said mildly. He turned back to me and grinned. "De-launay let you out of your cage? Can I buy you a jug?"
    "I'll buy you one." I jingled the purse at my belt. "Come on, Joscelin, it won't kill you to set foot in an inn. Cassiel will forgive you, if you stick to water."
    Thus we ended at our familiar table in the back of the Cockerel, though with the unfamiliar addition of a Cassiline Brother seated in the corner with folded arms, steel glinting off his vambraces as he scowled at the other customers. The inn-keeper looked almost as displeased at Jos-celin's presence as he did himself.
    I told Hyacinthe most of what had happened. He fingered the diamond at my throat and whistled.
    "Do you know what that's worth?" he asked.
    I shook my head. "No. A fair amount."
    "A lot, Phedre. You could . . . well, you could do quite a few things with the money it would bring."
    "I can't sell it." Remembering the cord taut around my throat, I flushed. "Don't ask why."
    "All right." Hyacinthe regarded me curiously, his black eyes lively with intelligence. "What else?"
    "Joscelin." I fished a coin from my purse and slid it across the table. "Will you buy a jug, and bring it to Hyacinthe's crew in the stable, with my regards?"
    The Cassiline looked at me with flat incredulity. "No."
    "I swear, it's nothing like the other time, and naught against your vows. It's just somewhat. . . well, you'd rather not hear. I'll not stir from this chair." I grew annoyed as he sat unmoving. "Name of Elua! Do your vows say you have to remain glued at my side?"
    With a sound of disgust, Joscelin shoved his chair back and snatched the coin from the table, heading to the bar.
    "Let's hope we don't find him in need of rescue," Hyacinthe said, watching him go. "What is it?"
    I told him quickly about Delaunay and Prince Rolande, what Meli-sande had said, and the book of verse. Hyacinthe heard it out.
    "No wonder," he said when I was done. "So he was neither brother nor betrothed to Edmee de Rocaille after all?"
    "No." I shook my head. "No, he wasn't avenging her, he was protecting Rolande. I think. You never . . . you never looked?"
    "I said I would not use the dromonde in this. You know why." It was the wholly serious tone I doubted many had heard in Hyacinthe's voice.
    "Your mother's prophesy." I glanced at him, and he nodded briefly. "Either it came to