Kushiel's Mercy

edge in a code invented by a blind healer. Do no harm . And how, when at last I’d confronted Claudia Fulvia about it, she had admitted that it meant a member of the Unseen Guild had placed me under their protection.
    “Your mother,” Sidonie said flatly.
    “I think so,” I murmured.
    Sidonie rose without comment. She went to the balcony doors, gazing out into the summer night, her arms wrapped around herself. She was wearing a dressing-robe of thin, cream-colored silk, so fine I could see the silhouette of her body through it. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
    “Because you didn’t want to discuss the issue of finding my vanished mother until we had no choice,” I said. “And because you could get killed for knowing it.”
    She turned. “I’m the heir to Terre d’Ange with a hand-picked personal guard, not some fainting flower to be coddled from the world’s dangers.”
    “The Guild employs assassins,” I said. “If Canis had been one, he could have killed me in my sleep a half a dozen times.”
    “Yes, well, you’re not particularly careful of your safety.” Sidonie studied me. “It’s a fanciful tale. Do you believe it?”
    “Do you remember the medallion I wore on the Longest Night?” I asked. She nodded. “It was a replica of the one Canis gave me. I wanted to see if anyone at Court recognized it.”
    “And did they?”
    “No.” I shook my head. “But the Ephesian ambassador who was visiting did. Diokles Agallon. He offered an exchange of favors. He said if I told him where and how I got it, he might be able to tell me where it originated.”
    “What did he want in return?” Sidonie asked.
    I smiled slightly. “For me to push the Sultan’s suit for your hand.”
    She didn’t smile. “I take it you declined.”
    “Sidonie . . .” I spread my hands. “At that moment, I realized I didn’t want anything to do with it. All I wanted was you. All I could think about was you. And at the time, no, I hadn’t thought so far ahead as to reckon that one day, the price of it would be bringing my mother to justice.”
    “Does my mother know about this?” she asked.
    “No,” I said. “Phèdre didn’t reckon it worth the risk. Not with so little knowledge. She’s the only person I’ve told, and she’s said naught to anyone but Joscelin, and mayhap Hyacinthe. I left the choice to her. She’s been trying to learn more.”
    “Well, I can’t not tell her, Imriel,” Sidonie said. “It’s a matter of state. I can’t withhold that from her.”
    “I thought you might feel that way,” I said. “Sidonie, listen. I don’t know the extent of the Guild’s power and influence, but I do know they’re real. Enough to be dangerous. Do as you must. Only please, please bid your mother to tread lightly in this matter. I am truly afraid that if she shows her hand, they might act.”
    She sighed. “Imriel, why does everything in your life have to be so infernally complicated?”
    “I don’t know,” I said humbly. “I wish it wasn’t.”
    “Gods!” Sidonie blew out an exasperated breath, casting her gaze toward the ceiling.
    “Blessed Elua, if there is some divine purpose in this union, I hope and pray that you will reveal it to me one day.”
    I kept silent.
    “Are you harboring any other secrets?” she asked me.
    “No,” I murmured. “Not a one. Have I lost your trust?”
    “No.” Sidonie’s mouth quirked. She crossed the room lightly, climbed on the bed, and knelt astride my lap. “No.” She took my face in her hands. “May Blessed Elua and his Companions have mercy on me, I do trust you. As I love you, I trust you.”
    I slid my hands up her warm, silk-covered back. “Promise?”
    “Yes.” Sidonie kissed me. “I do. Irrationally, maddeningly, utterly.”
    “Always?” I whispered.
    “Always and always.” She kissed me again, her tongue darting between my lips, then sat back on her heels to regard me, a complicated mixture of sorrow and love in her dark eyes. “I promise.”
    On the morrow, Sidonie requested a private audience with her mother. They met for a long time, long enough that my relief was mingled with apprehension. I spent the better part of the day drafting my appeal to the Master of the Straits, trying not to worry.
    In the afternoon, one of her guards came to fetch me—Alfonse, the one who’d come before. I hoped he brought word from Sidonie, but I was wrong. “Captain de Monluc wonders if you’d pay him the courtesy of a visit,