Naamah's Blessing

Jehanne’s.”
    “That, and being accused of having seduced and ensorceled her,” I said. “Or you, or anyone. Stone and sea! The only time I
tried
to seduce someone, I failed miserably.”
    Bao stifled a yawn. “Your spineless Yeshuite boy?”
    I rolled over in his arms. “Aleksei wasn’t spineless.”
    His eyes glinted. “Oh, he was! But he ended up in your bed anyway, didn’t he? So I suppose you succeeded after all.”
    “That was Naamah’s blessing, and an altogether different matter,” I informed him.
    “If you say so.”
    “I do.” It was a familiar argument between us. I realized that Bao had succeeded in breaking the endless chain of thought I’d been chasing, which had likely been his intention all along. For that, I kissed him. “Good night and thank you, my Tatar prince.”
    He gave me a sleepy smile. “You’re welcome.”
    In the morning, aided by a night’s sleep, I was calmer than I would have reckoned. My apprehension had settled into a deep place inside of me. This was going to be painful, but it was necessary.
    Bao and I rode to the Palace, where the royal steward greeted us both with a sincere bow.
    “Lady Moirin mac Fainche,” he said in a respectful tone. “Messire… Bao, is it? Welcome. Brother Phanuel indicated that you would visit today.”
    “Is his majesty King Daniel receiving?” I inquired.
    The steward hesitated. “His majesty is enjoying a concerto.” He lowered his voice. “Music is one of the only things in which he yet takes pleasure. But I think, my lady, that he would wish to be interrupted by you.”
    My stomach tightened. “You’re sure?”
    He nodded. “I do believe so. Come, permit me to escort you and your… husband.”
    It felt strange, so strange, to walk the marbled halls of the Palace with its gilded columns and ornate frescos. We passed the Hall of Games, where Prince Thierry had taught me to play games of chance. I remembered Jehanne carelessly wagering a love-token that Raphael had given her as an apology for some offense, a choker of pale blue topaz that matched her eyes. She’d demonstrated her annoyance with him by putting it around her silken-haired lap-dog’s neck as a collar, and then tossing it upon the gaming table as though it meant less than nothing to her.
    She’d won her wager, though.
    I remembered the cool touch of her fingertips on my face, her complicated expression, and her barbed warning.
You oughtn’t play games you’re bound to lose
.
    I had; and I hadn’t.
    I’d never stood the least chance of winning Raphael de Mereliot’s affections away from Jehanne. That, I’d come to understand at last. But never, ever had I imagined that I would win a portion of hers instead; that tempestuous Jehanne would take it upon herself to rescueme, that I would offer my loyalty to her, and she would come to love and trust me.
    That I would find a place in her heart.
    Tears blurred my eyes.
    “Moirin?” Bao touched my arm.
    I blinked away tears. “Memories.”
    He nodded, understanding.
    After a discreet pause, the royal steward led us onward. We passed the great, winding staircase that led to the upper stories of the Palace, where Jehanne had ordered a suite filled with green, growing things, an enchanted bower made just for me.
    I’d awoken there to find Bao keeping watch over me. I saw him glance at the staircase, remembering. Gods, we hadn’t even
liked
one another then. It had been a long, long journey that had led me back to this place.
    It was in that enchanted bower that Master Lo Feng had lectured me against letting my gift be used in unnatural ways—ways that had nonetheless saved lives, including my father’s.
    Ways that could have saved Jehanne’s life.
    I breathed the Breath of Earth’s Pulse, grounding myself. I remembered Jehanne naked and shameless in my bower, the green shadows of ferns decorating her alabaster skin.
    Her blue-grey eyes sparkling at me the first time she had visited during my convalescence.
Are you wondering if I mean to kiss you before I leave
?
    I had laughed.
I am now
.
    She had.
    She had ducked beneath the immense fern fronds and kissed me; and she had stayed when I begged her to stay, winding my arms around her neck. She had stayed, and she had loved me. And she had known, all along, that I would not stay, could not stay. She had not asked, nor had she held any part of herself back from me.
    And King Daniel… he had
known
her. Known and loved Jehanne in a way few folk could