Kushiel's Mercy

watch it,” I said in warning. “I mean it.”
    Whatever Kratos saw in my face, it impressed my seriousness on him. He merely gave a brief nod and went to fetch the other bearers.
    By the time I arrived at the Sarkal villa, my stomach was in knots. Whatever Sidonie wanted, I didn’t think it was a game of chess. And as pleasant as the thought was, I was fairly sure it wasn’t a dalliance. I suspected she wanted answers. And while I would like nothing more than to give them to her, I didn’t know how in the name of Blessed Elua I could accomplish it without alerting her guards.
    In the salon, the chess board was set on the table. The ranks of onyx and ivory figures faced off across the board, their ruby eyes glittering. Sidonie stood beside it, her back very straight, her features calm and controlled. Behind her, one of the ever-present Amazigh stood with his back to the wall.
    “Good day, your highness,” I greeted her. “I’m pleased to see you’re feeling better.”
    “Thank you.” She turned to the Amazigh. “Masmud, you may go.”
    His eyes widened between veils of cloth. “General Astegal has ordered us to protect you at all times.”
    “Messire Maignard is a concerned friend and no threat.” A hint of steel crept into her voice. “And in Astegal’s absence, I command here. I am commanding you now. Go .”
    The Amazigh hesitated.
    Sidonie’s voice cracked like a whip. “ Now , or I will have you dismissed!”
    He went.
    She rounded on me. “Now. Tell me. What is it that passes here? What is it you know that I do not? Why do I find myself unable to recall simple things? And what is it you fear from Bodeshmun and my guards?”
    Oh, gods.
    There was so much, I barely knew where to begin. And I had a feeling there wasn’t much time. I didn’t know to whom the Amazigh reported directly, but I desperately hoped it wasn’t Bodeshmun.
    “Sidonie,” I whispered. “All is not as it seems. You’ve been ensorceled. Parts of your memory are missing. Parts are false. Terre d’Ange is not allied with Carthage. And you are not in love with Astegal.”
    Her face was rigid. “I don’t believe you.”
    “It’s a spell,” I said helplessly. “There’s somewhat on you, somewhat on your person, some token of Astegal’s that binds you. I thought it was the signet ring, but it must be somewhat else. If you can find it, remove it; it will weaken the spell.”
    “There’s nothing on me!” Her voice rose. “I’m passing familiar with my own person, Leander, and I think I would know! Who are you? What do you want? What does Cythera want?”
    “I’m trying to help you!” I hissed. “And if Bodeshmun finds out, I’ll be lucky if he settles for killing me. For the love of Elua, my lady, you’re in danger ! Please believe me. You cannot let them suspect.”
    “Suspect what ?” she demanded in frustration.
    “That you know about the spell!” I ground my teeth. “All right, mayhap Ptolemy Solon was wrong about part of it. But the ring, Astegal’s ring—”
    “Take it if it concerns you that much!” Sidonie wrenched the heavy signet ring from her finger and hurled it at me. It bounced off my chest and fell clinking to the floor, rolling beneath the table.
    “No!” I took a deep breath. “Not that ring—” There were footsteps hurrying in the hallway outside the salon. I dropped to my knees. “Sidonie de la Courcel, in the name of Blessed Elua and his Companions, by all that is holy, by all that I’ve ever held dear in my life, I swear to you that I mean you no harm and all I have told you is true. In your heart, in your deepest heart, you know somewhat is amiss. Please, please, please, if you do nothing else, do not let them suspect it. Bring me to New Carthage with you. I swear to you, I will prove my words and my loyalty. I am begging you, please, to look into your heart and trust me in this.”
    Sidonie stared at me without answering.
    “Your highness!” The steward bustled into the salon, his voice distraught. “Forgive me, but it is unseemly . . .” He paused. “Is all well here?”
    “Yes,” Sidonie said slowly. “I’m afraid I dropped my ring. Messire Maignard was retrieving it for me.”
    “I see.” The steward eyed me with relief as I reached beneath the table and found the signet ring. I rose without comment, bowed, and handed it to Sidonie. She examined it, then slid it onto her finger. “Is it damaged?”
    “Happily, no.” She smiled briefly at the steward.