Naamah's Blessing

want to believe it. But we cannot even find a suitable nursemaid.”
    “We will.” Leaning forward, Bao kissed me. “And a suitable place to live, and a suitable couturier—or at least a suitable printer, so that we might have suitable calling cards made. And if
that
fails, I am quite certain that the couturieres of Eglantine House would be more than happy to design suitable attire for us. Until then…” He plucked at the hem of my sari. “I am quite content to continue bidding farewell to these garments, over and over.”
    I wound my arms around his neck. “Are
you
sure?”
    His eyes gleamed. “I have been to hell and back with you, Moirin. I am very, very sure.”
    Come morning, the entire City was abuzz with the news of the Lady of Marsilikos’ complaint.
    It seemed there were a handful of other signatories, mostly minor Eisandine lords, but a few members of the Great Houses as well, including the Duc de Somerville, who wielded considerable clout in L’Agnace province.
    A young, upstart poet based in Night’s Doorstep and sponsored by persons unknown had written a satire mocking my relationship with Jehanne, calling it a liaison of convenience fabricated for the sole purpose of provoking Raphael de Mereliot. The tide of public opinion was turning against me.
    I didn’t care.
    I didn’t care, because Bao and I found our nursemaid.
    It surprised me to find an applicant who was no servant of a royal house, but instead a Priestess of Eisheth, goddess of healing, clad in the flowing sea-blue robes of her order.
    “Lady Moirin.” She greeted me with a shy smile. “It’s been a long time. I daresay you don’t remember me.”
    I blinked, trying to recall. “I
almost
remember.”
    Her chin lifted. “Gemma, my lady. Gemma Tristault. I was an acolyte of Eisheth’s Order at the time. I came to you and Lord Raphael on behalf of our Head Priestess, Sister Marianne Prichard.”
    “Oh, aye!” I said. “She was bitten by a rat, and the wound had poisoned her blood.”
    Gemma nodded. “It festered, and she hid it too long, trying to tend it herself.” She smiled affectionately. “Stubborn old woman. We would have lost her if not for you and Lord Raphael.”
    “Is she well?” I asked.
    “She is,” the priestess said. “She sends her regards, as well as this letter of commendation.” She extended a neatly rolled scroll.
    I unrolled it and skimmed the contents, Bao peering over my shoulder and sounding out the letters to himself. “Forgive me, Sister Gemma,” I said. “But… I confess myself perplexed. Why is a Priestess of Eisheth applying for the post of royal nursemaid?”
    “Why not?” she asked in a reasonable tone. “A hundred and some years ago, the head of Naamah’s Order had the notion of assigning young acolytes to serve as royal companions. Who better than one of Eisheth’s servants to nurture royal peers in their youth?” She gestured at the scroll. “As Sister Marianne indicated, since I took my vows, it’s been my task to care for children brought to the sanctuary to seek healing.”
    I was intrigued. “The young princess needs a nursemaid, not a physician.”
    “Although it would not be a bad thing to have a nursemaid with a physician’s skills,” Bao noted.
    The priestess folded her hands in the arms of her robes. “Many of the children brought to us, especially the very young ones, are frightenedand confused. Part of my duty is to soothe and comfort them.” She hesitated. “I do not wish to sound presumptuous, my lady. But since resigning her post, Nathalie Simon has been spreading tales about her young highness, claiming that she is an unmanageable child growing worse under your influence.”
    “Ah… that would be me,” Bao admitted. “But I have learned better than to overexcite her.”
    Gemma smiled at him. “Be that as it may, Messire Bao, I do not believe there is such a thing as an unmanageable child. Only frightened or angry children, and caretakers who lack the patience to manage them.”
    I steepled my fingers in a contemplative
mudra
. “I trust you and Sister Marianne are aware that there is a political aspect to this appointment?”
    Her blue eyes were grave. “Very much so, Lady Moirin. Sister Marianne was most distressed to hear of the Lady of Marsilikos’ complaint. House Mereliot is one of Eisheth’s most ancient and venerated lines; and Eisheth’s business is healing, not causing strife.”
    “Would your appointment further this