Naamah's Blessing

printed on thick, expensive paper.
    “What are these?” I asked in bewilderment.
    “Calling cards,” Noémie said. “It’s become quite the fashion in the past few years. These were left by all the people who came to pay you a visit this morning.”
    I flipped through the cards, glancing at the names engraved on them. “But I don’t even know these people!”
    She smiled. “Well, it seems they wish to make your acquaintance.”
    “Do I have to meet
all
of them?” I asked in dismay.
    “ ’Tis your choice,” Noémie said. “No doubt most of them seek to curry favor since the King’s embraced you and your father has a certain amount of influence with the Lord Minister. Are there none you would call a friend from your time here in the City before?”
    “Prince Thierry was the closest thing to a friend I had here,” I said absently. “And he’s on the far side of the world.”
    “Didn’t you bed him?” Bao commented.
    “Only the once! And we made our peace with it. There’s no one—” I turned over another card. “Oh.”
    “Someone you know?”
    “Aye.” I gazed at Lianne Tremaine’s name, surrounded by a printed wreath of delicate blossoms. “She was the King’s Poet once—the youngest ever appointed. And she was a member of the Circle of Shalomon.”
    “The demon-summoners?” Bao asked.
    I nodded, glancing at Noémie. “You must have known.”
    “I did.” Her expression remained serene. “People make mistakes, Moirin. Sometimes they learn from them. I believe Lianne Tremaine has done so. She’s fallen far from her days of glory.” Leaning over, she tapped the card. “Those are eglantine blossoms. Since the King dismissed her from her post, she’s taken a position at Eglantine House.”
    It surprised me. “As a Servant of Naamah?”
    “No, no.” Noémie shook her head. “As a tutor to their young poets, although it’s also true that many patrons commission her to write poems on their behalf. Whatever else may be true, her talent is undeniable.”
    Bao examined the card. “You should see her, Moirin.”
    “Why?” My memories of Lianne Tremaine weren’t particularly fond ones.
    He gave me one of his shrewd looks. “You and she, you made the same mistake.”
    “I didn’t
want
to!” I protested.
    Bao shrugged. “But you did it. Maybe you can learn from each other. Maybe she knows something about that idiot Lord Raphael that can help you figure out what unfinished business you have together.”
    “You have an irksome habit of being right,” I observed. “My lady Noémie, was there any word from his majesty?”
    “No,” she said. “Were you expecting it?”
    “I’m not sure what I expected,” I admitted.
    “Let’s go call on the little princess,” Bao suggested. “Afterward,you can decide what you want to do about this.” He flicked Lianne Tremaine’s card with one finger. “
And
the King.”
    “Do you think we should return so soon?” I asked.
    He nodded. “We promised her. Soon never comes soon enough to a young child. And I think that one has been disappointed many, many times before. Let her see that we mean to keep our promise.”
    I smiled at him. “You’re uncommonly sensitive when it comes to children, my bad boy. All right, then. Let’s go.”
    Once again, Bao was right.
    Upon presenting ourselves at the royal nursery, we were confronted by the stony-faced nursemaid Nathalie Simon. “You’re interrupting her highness’ morning lesson,” she informed us.
    “Do you mean to forbid us entry?” I inquired.
    Bao favored her with one of his most charming smiles. “We’ll be only a minute, my lady.”
    Grudgingly, she admitted us.
    Desirée and her tutor were seated in undersized chairs in a sunlit corner of the chamber, heads bowed over a slate of sliding alphabet blocks. I paused, listening to the sound of her childish voice chanting the alphabet.
    “Ah… Bay… Cey…”
    “You’ve guests, young highness,” Nathalie announced in a hard tone.
    Desirée’s silver-gilt head lifted, and a dazzling smile dawned on her face. “You came!”
    “Of course!” Bao scoffed. “Did you think we wouldn’t?” With careless grace, he crossed the room and sank to sit cross-legged beside her, peering at the slate of blocks. “So these are D’Angeline letters, huh? Maybe you can teach them to me.”
    Her fair brow furrowed. “Are you mocking?”
    Bao shook his head. “No. In Ch’in, we write differently.”
    “Why?”
    “I don’t