Kushiel's Mercy

troubled her.
    She didn’t complain, but she answered honestly when I asked. She said it felt as though her wrists and ankles were twined with stinging nettles.
    It worried me.
    It worried me a lot.
    “I can bear it.” She shrugged. “The itching’s worse than the pain, and it’s actually starting to hurt more than it itches. It’s an improvement.”
    “I’m not worried about your ability to endure pain, love,” I said. “I carved a chunk of flesh out of your back on your orders. But what if Bodeshmun’s spell overwhelms the charm when we reach the City?”
    Sidonie looked away. “We can’t let ourselves think thusly.”
    “We can’t afford not to!” I raised my voice. “Sidonie, if you fall prey to Bodeshmun’s spell in the City of Elua, I’m not going to be able to wrestle you kicking and screaming back across the sea. I’m going to be surrounded by folk in the grip of the same cursed spell, and they’re not going to allow mad Prince Imriel to lay violent hands on you!”
    “I know,” she murmured. “You needn’t shout.”
    I forced myself to speak calmly. “I think we should discuss the possibility of your staying out of the City. You could go to Amílcar or Alba. Anywhere far, far from that cursed demon-stone.”
    “And how is mad Prince Imriel going to convince everyone in the City to search for that cursed demon-stone?” Sidonie looked back at me. “You need me. We have to take the chance.” She paused, frowning. “Imriel, if anyone should stay outside the City, it’s you.”
    “Me?” I stared at her.
    “What happens if the spell does reassert itself?” She searched my face. “Will it wipe away my memories of these past months? Or will it merely twist them? Will it have me believing that you ensorceled me against my will? That you conspired with your mother and Ptolemy Solon to work some dark charm to seduce me, to abduct me, to persuade me to help you kill my own beloved husband? What happens to you if I denounce you before the entire City?”
    I closed my eyes. “Ah, gods. I hadn’t thought of that.”
    “You worry about me, and I worry about you,” Sidonie said softly. “And between the two of us, you’ll be in worse danger, mad Prince Imriel. Can I persuade you to stay safely away?”
    I opened my eyes. “No.”
    “I didn’t think so.” She touched my cheek. “I’ll tell you if there are further changes in the bindings. And of a surety, I’ll warn you if I feel my wits are about to crumble.”
    “If you have the chance,” I said.
    “And I pray I do,” Sidonie said. “In the meanwhile, let me bear the pain without fretting over what it might betoken, because there’s naught either of us can do about it. Not if we stand a chance of averting this war. And you know damnably well both of us will take any risk to make that happen, no matter how long the odds.” Unexpectedly, she summoned a hint of a smile. “I’m trying to imagine that it’s a pain associated with somewhat far more pleasant. Somewhat involving you and tightly knotted ropes. It helps, actually.”
    I raised my brows. “Oh, indeed?”
    Her eyes glimmered. “Mm-hmm.”
    Gods, I wished there was time . I wished we could halt the world for a day and banish all that surrounded us. The looming war. The jolting carriage, the jogging guards surrounding it, Kratos sitting alongside the driver, singing tunelessly in Hellene.
    A day, one day . . .
    We didn’t have a day. Not even an hour. Only duty and hope and the desperate prayers of a nation. There on the stiff horsehide cushions, I settled for pulling Sidonie against me, kissing her until I felt her soft lips part, her body yielding sweetly, arms around my neck.
    “We will prove it,” I whispered. “There is no magic so dire.”
    Sidonie kissed me again. “None.”
    I found myself thinking about the day when everything had changed between us: the day of the hunt when a boar had gored Alais’ dog and Sidonie’s horse had bolted and thrown her. I’d flung myself atop Sidonie, thinking to protect her. As it happened, my effort was unnecessary; but in that moment, a spark had been ignited. I could still remember the thrilling shock of it. The feeling of her body beneath mine, the sight of realization dawning in her dark eyes.
    “Do you remember the hunt?” I asked, not bothering to explain.
    She smiled. “Oh, yes. You know I do. Gods, I thought about it for days and days. ’Tis no wonder that when Leander Maignard saved my life in the