Kushiel's Mercy

and good. It wouldn’t change much in political terms, but it might go some way toward swaying the hearts of those in doubt, and it would make it difficult for Ysandre to move toward outright opposition.
    And if they didn’t, it would seal the opinion of those who opposed us. And it would make it a great deal easier for Ysandre to issue an edict ordering her wayward heir to choose between me and her inheritance.
    I didn’t know if she would. And I didn’t know what Sidonie would do if she did. All I knew was that I didn’t want to find out. If I could rip out my heart and show it to the priest, I thought, it would be simple. If I could live out my life before his eyes, show him I intended no harm and aspired to nothing more than spending the balance of my days at Sidonie’s side, it would be simple.
    But I couldn’t, and mere words seemed an inadequate tool.
    “How did you do it?” I asked Sidonie the night before my meeting with the priest, pacing the salon. “Convince him?”
    “I spoke from the heart.” She smiled slightly. “At considerable length. I think mayhap I wore him down.”
    “But what did you say ?” I asked.
    “I’m not sure it’s right to tell you.” Sidonie regarded me, her expression unreadable.
    “And even if it is, I can’t lend you my words, Imriel. They won’t help. You have to find your own.”
    “I know. I know.” I halted my pacing and sat on the couch beside her. “But it would help me to hear it, truly.”
    “All right.” She drew her knees up beneath her gown, lacing her arms around them. Her dark Cruithne gaze rested on me. “I said a lot. It’s probably for the best I don’t remember half of it.” Her smile came and went in a quick flicker. “I don’t want to swell your head.
    In the end . . .” She lifted her chin, her gaze moving off into the distance. “Why you?
    That’s the question, isn’t it? Why is this worth sowing unrest in Terre d’Ange?”
    I nodded and kept silent.
    “Blessed Elua doesn’t join hearts without a purpose.” Sidonie knit her brows. “Since I was old enough to know my own name, I’ve known I was my mother’s heir. I’ve grown up learning and understanding the responsibilities that entails. And until . . . until that night, the Longest Night, when I first kissed you, I’d scarce done a single thing that wasn’t in keeping with those duties. Not one action, not one deed, not one misspoken word.”
    “Very proper,” I murmured.
    “Mmm.” Her gaze shifted back to me. “Imriel, you are the one person in the world, the only person in the world, my mother would forbid me. And yes, I did think in the beginning, mayhap it was only that. Some long-stifled act of rebellion. But it wasn’t. So, why? Surely there must be purpose in it.” Her voice dropped, softening. “Love chooses.
    We don’t, not always. I could have chosen anyone, anyone else, and I would have learned nothing of the terrible might of love, the power and sacrifice. What manner of D’Angeline would I have been, then? What manner of person?”
    “You would be you,” I said. “Always.”
    Sidonie tilted her head, her gaze sliding away once more, contemplating somewhat I couldn’t see. “I’m not so sure. This land, this realm of ours, at its worst . . .” She shook her head. “We can be a vain, proud, and insular people. I know it. I’ve felt it all my life.”
    Her mouth quirked. “I hear what people say. Cruithne half-breed. And the worst of it was always leveled against Alais, not me, just because of the way she looks. It hurt more in a way because I couldn’t protect her from it. She’s my younger sister; we share the same blood.”
    “I know,” I said quietly. “And pride in it on both sides. So you should, Sidonie.” I touched the torc at my throat. It had been a proud day when Drustan gave it to me. “I understand.”
    “I know.” Her dark gaze returned. “My mother and father, D’Angeline and Alban, a love-match despite themselves, uniting two realms. Phèdre and Joscelin, anguissette and Cassiline Brother, facing untold danger. Anafiel Delaunay, keeping his oath after so many years, honoring his lost love. Ah, Elua!” Sidonie drew a deep breath, eyes bright with unshed tears. “At its best . . . at its best, Terre d’Ange has a great deal to teach the world about the nature of love and how we might best live our lives.” Her voice grew stronger. “And I do not think I would ever have understood that if I had not fallen