Kushiel's Mercy

to rehearse your words? Shall I play the audience for you?”
    Sidonie hesitated. “I think not. What I’m planning . . . Imriel, I’m afraid I’ll lose my nerve if I tell you ahead of time. Afraid it will sound foolish once I say it aloud.”
    “You?” I tilted her chin up and kissed her. “Never.”
    She smiled ruefully. “Well, I’ve done a number of things I would never have thought I’d do. Fall in love with you. Defy my mother. Wed Astegal.”
    “The latter doesn’t count,” I said.
    “There’s just so much at stake.” Sidonie shivered. “Elua! I’ve addressed ambassadors and statesmen before, but there was never anything like this at stake. And I was always a representative of my mother. If they thought I was too young and inexperienced to listen to, she was always there to intercede. It’s just so much damned responsibility. And I don’t know what we’ll do if I fail. Do you?”
    I rubbed her shoulders, bare beneath the unlaced gown. “Spread the word emmenghanom until it’s on the lips of every man, woman, and child in Amílcar, trusting that someone will carry it to Terre d’Ange and Alais and L’Envers to complete what we’ve begun. And then lock the door and make love until Amílcar falls and Astegal comes to reclaim you.
    At which point I will take your life and my own, and we will die in a final flourish of terrible, wonderful romance about which the poets will sing for centuries.”
    Sidonie laughed, tears in her eyes. “I’d much rather live a long and blessedly uneventful life with you. Although the part about the love-making sounds good.”
    “In that, I can oblige.” I took her hands. “Sidonie, if you’re given the chance, you won’t fail. You won’t.”
    She searched my face for signs of doubt, but there weren’t any.
    I believed in her.
    “Thank you.” Sidonie touched my lips. “Always.”
    “Always and always,” I echoed.

Fifty-Five

    Lady Nicola was brief and to the point. “Liberio agreed.”
    I closed my eyes, a wave of relief washing over me. That was the one hurdle that had been cleared. I offered a silent prayer of thanks to Blessed Elua.
    “And the council?” Sidonie asked.
    “Several of the remaining five are opposed. But they’re willing to hear the argument.
    There will be an open audience this afternoon.” Nicola studied her. “Have you taken a turn for the worse? You look pale.”
    “No,” Sidonie murmured. “Merely anxious. My lady, can you spare a chambermaid to assist me this afternoon?”
    “Of course,” Nicola said gently.
    We waited out the long, dragging hours until the council met. Lady Nicola’s chambermaid arrived and I was temporarily banished from our quarters while she helped Sidonie dress and arrange her hair. Sidonie emerged just as a courtier came to fetch us.
    She wore a dark green Aragonian gown with a square neckline that had belonged to Nicola, a shawl of rich golden silk over her shoulders.
    “Those are nearly Montrève’s colors,” I commented. “A good omen.”
    Sidonie gave me a brief smile. “Let’s hope.”
    The council met at the same long table in the great hall, but this was an open meeting with the hall filled with onlookers, murmurs rising to the rafters. Serafin motioned for us to be seated facing the council, our backs to the throng.
    “My lords, ladies, and gentlefolk,” he announced. “I am Serafin L’Envers y Aragon. In the abdication of Roderico de Aragon, the absence of ranking nobility and with the blessing of my father, I have assumed command here. Does anyone wish to gainsay this?”
    No one did.
    “Very good.” Serafin laid both hands on the table. “We are here to debate the merits of two grave issues. One is the possibility of assisting our kinswoman, the Dauphine Sidonie de la Courcel, in escaping Amíl-car and fleeing to Terre d’Ange. The other is the prospect of seeking an alliance with the Euskerri with her aid. I believe both issues possess the potential for desirable outcomes that outweigh the risks and costs. Here is my reasoning.”
    Serafin made his case in strong, calm terms, better than I would have reckoned, explaining that unless the balance of power tipped, Amílcar would eventually be forced to surrender. That this was a long chance, but it was a chance. I’d called him intemperate, but he had some of his mother’s cool-headed competence in him. The crowd listened to him in silence.
    After he spoke, one of the opposing members was given a chance to