Naamah's Blessing

whole of your Vralian tale. Were you there, too?” he asked Bao.
    Bao stretched out his arms, contemplating the zig-zag tattoos that marked them. “No,” he said darkly. “I wish I had been. But no.”
    My father shuddered. “You’ll want to hear the whole of their tale someday,” he said to Rogier Courcel. “Trust me, it’s one to daunt the poets.”
    The Lord Minister of the realm inclined his head toward us. “I look forward to it.”
    With that, we were dismissed.
    Since there was no word from King Daniel, Bao and I returned tothe Temple of Naamah. This journey through the streets of the City of Elua was markedly different. Word of the King’s absolution and embrace of me had spread, and the gazes that followed us were more curious than suspicious. I felt all the more grateful for his generosity, and all the more uneasy at the notion of presuming to tell him how his daughter ought to be raised.
    “Why?” Bao asked when I voiced my reluctance. “Don’t you think he might be glad of it?”
    “I don’t know,” I said. “He’s just so terribly
sad
. I hate to add to his burden.”
    He shook his head. “If he’s a man, he will bear it. You heard him this morning. He knows he’s neglected the child. If you ask me, he was very nearly begging for your assistance.”
    “Do you think so?”
    Bao gave me one of his rare, utterly sincere smiles. “Yes, Moirin. I do. I think the King recognizes that you have a very, very large heart, and that he hopes you will make a place for his little stormcloud of a daughter in it.”
    “You, too,” I said. “You liked her, didn’t you?”
    “I did,” he admitted.
    At the temple, I begged paper, ink, and a pen of Noémie d’Etoile, who granted my request readily and showed me to the study, which was filled with texts dedicated to the arts of love and pleasure.
    There, I did my best to concentrate on writing a letter to my mother, while Bao perused the shelves and cubbies. Although he could not yet read the western alphabet, many of the volumes were illustrated. There were at least a dozen different versions of the
Trois Milles Joies
alone.
    “Have you ever read this?” Bao demanded.
    “Aye, I have.” With a twinge of sorrow, I remembered how Jehanne had sent a volume to me after our first liaison at Cereus House.
    “Look at this.” He showed me a print titled
The Wheel-Barrow
. “Have you ever tried it?”
    “No.”
    He studied it from all angles. “We should.”
    “Bao, I’m writing to my
mother
!”
    He flashed me an unapologetic grin. “All right, all right! Later, huh?”
    I plucked the tome from his hands. “Later, yes.”
    In the end, after long hours of agonizing, I made my letter a simple one. I wrote that I had returned to Terre d’Ange well and safe. I wrote that I had many adventures to tell, and that the Maghuin Dhonn Herself had done right in sending Her child so very, very far away. I wrote that I hoped to return to Alba in the spring, after Prince Thierry’s expedition came home.
    I wrote that I loved her.
    No matter how far I went, mother mine, I never ceased to think of you and miss you. I hope you are well, and Oengus and Mabon and all our kin, too
.
    I wept a bit.
    Bao looked over my shoulder. “Did you tell her about me?”
    “I did.” I traced a line of text with my finger, reading the words aloud. “It may surprise you to learn I have wed. I will bring my husband, Bao, when I come. He is exceedingly insolent, boastful, and arrogant, and I love him very much. I think you will like him.”
    He pursed his lips. “You think so?”
    I laughed through my tears. “I do.”
    I folded my letter carefully, placing it in a vellum envelope. I addressed it to my mother in care of the Lady of Clunderry, as she had bade me so very, very long ago. I lit a taper, and sealed it with a careful blot of wax, pressing the signet ring my mother had given me into the hot wax.
    A young, obliging priest offered to carry it to the Palace for me.
    Off it went.
    Bao cocked his head at me, waiting.
    “Oh, fine,” I said. “Let’s try it.”

EIGHT

    T
he Wheel-Barrow
was a vigorous position, requiring a certain athleticism on the part of both participants. I wasn’t sure if I cared to repeat it, but it was an interesting experiment, and it tired me enough so that I slept soundly and late.
    I awoke to find that the King’s absolution of me had further repercussions. Noémie d’Etoile presented Bao and me with a stack of engraved cards