Kushiel's Mercy

redemption, wisdom and mortal striving. Not politics.”
    I took a seat. “And yet you summoned me here, my lord.”
    “Yes.” He sighed. “Your dilemma is a political one, but it touches on matters of the spirit.”
    No one else spoke, all of them watching silently. I felt unpleasantly as though I were on trial. “What would you have me say, my lords and ladies?” I asked, spreading my hands.
    “Or what is it you wish to say to me?”
    They exchanged silent glances.
    “I wish to say this,” Brother Thomas said quietly. “We will listen to the words you say here today. Once we have come to consensus, I will advise the Queen accordingly on this as a matter of spirit. I will give no advice in the matter of politics.”
    I shrugged. “Nor would I expect you to.”
    “That is well, then.” Brother Thomas inclined his head. “Speak.”
    I hadn’t expected this. I had expected . . . what? A more intimate conversation, a priest’s gentle questioning leading me to divulge the secret truths of my heart. I wondered if Sidonie had known, and suspected that she had. I wished she’d given me warning, though I supposed that would have somehow tainted the procedure. I wasn’t sure if I was more annoyed or impressed with her integrity.
    “I love her,” I said slowly. “Sidonie. And I could give you a hundred reasons why, a hundred things about her that surprise and delight me, but the truth is that, in the end, I don’t know why.” I paused, but no one spoke. “My lords, I know no one who has done more in the service of love than Joscelin Verreuil. When I first came to love Sidonie, I didn’t trust my feelings, not wholly. We were young and fearful and uncertain, and we both knew full well the risks involved in our liaison. I asked Joscelin how it was that he knew for a surety that he loved Phèdre. He said that he had tried doing without her.” I smiled a little to myself, remembering. “He’s not a man of surpassing eloquence, but he speaks to the point.”
    “You took this as advice?” the priest inquired.
    “I did. And in defiance of Blessed Elua’s precept, I chose duty over love. I fulfilled my obligation to the Crown and wed the Cruarch’s niece. You know well what followed.” I swallowed hard at the memory and made myself continue. “If I could unmake that choice, I would. And yet I cherish what small good can be gleaned from the horror. To do otherwise dishonors the dead. I learned a great deal about the true nature of love from Dorelei mab Breidaia. I learned a great deal about myself and what it means to be a man.
    And I learned that for good or ill, I do love Sidonie de la Courcel with an abiding passion that time, distance, or dire magic cannot alter.”
    They were silent.
    My heartbeat quickened. “My lords, for two years, since first we knew we loved one another, Sidonie and I have been parted. It’s led to naught but misery for far too many. I cannot unmake my choice or undo the tragedies that ensued, but I can seek to trust Elua’s wisdom as I should have done before.” I turned out my hands, pleading. “Is it too much to believe that the gods wish us to be happy?”
    Another glance was exchanged.
    “Do you claim that your happiness is worth throwing Terre d’Ange into chaos?” Brother Thomas asked in a dry tone.
    “Do you claim we are the ones responsible for sowing chaos when we are but following Elua’s precept?” I asked sharply. “ Love as thou wilt. If the Queen forbids our union, she is violating the one tenet we are all of us taught to hold dear, and guilty of heresy. That’s the crux of the matter, is it not?”
    “It is the reason we are listening,” the priest replied. “But you have not answered my question.”
    I tilted my head and regarded the sky. It was a clear summer day, sunny and bright. A flock of swallows veered across the blue expanse overhead, graceful and free. “My happiness,” I murmured. There was a taste of bile in the back of my throat. “No, my lord.
    When you phrase it thusly, how can I say yes? And yet . . .” I shook my head. “I’ve had so very little of it.”
    The assembled group stirred. “Of happiness?” Brother Thomas asked gently.
    “Yes.” My voice broke on the word. I gazed at his face, feeling uncommonly weary. “My lord, let us be honest with one another. In the end, it doesn’t matter what I say to you here today, what advice you give the Queen. All it can grant is a small respite, a measure of time. I know