Naamah's Blessing

long-jowled whiskered features were so familiar, my heart ached at the memory.
    “How in the world…?” my father whispered in bemusement.
    “Look.” The King leaned forward. “The tumblers are underneath it, holding it up on poles.”
    Desirée gazed raptly at it.
    I stole a glance at Bao. “Well done, my magpie.”
    He gave me a quiet smile. “It looks a lot like him, doesn’t it?”
    I nodded. “Very like.”
    Onstage, the dragon continued its graceful, flowing dance, accompanied by the sound of flutes. And somehow it truly did manage to convey the beautiful and terrible majesty of the dragon in flight as he rose from the peaks of White Jade Mountain and descended onto the battlefield.
    All too soon, the performance ended. The tumblers hoisted their poles, revealing themselves beneath the silvery segments of the dragon’s carapace.
    The applause was thunderous.
    Antoine nó Eglantine strode onstage and bowed in all directions, beginning and ending with a deep bow in the direction of the royal box.
    “May I throw the flowers, Moirin?” Desirée looked at me with shining eyes. “May I?”
    I handed her a bouquet of white roses grown out of season beneath the warmth of the glass pavilion. “Indeed, you may, young highness.”
    “ ’Tis a long way to the stage.” Daniel de la Courcel took his daughter’s hand as she leaned over the balustrade, his voice gentle. “May I help?”
    She nodded, wordless.
    All around us, peers of the realm in their boxes watched. Below us, fifty faces were raised in wonderment as the King helped his daughter toss a bouquet onto the stage of the royal theater.
    It landed at Antoine nó Eglantine’s feet.
    He accepted it with a bow and a flourish. “Long life and good health to her highness, the princess Desirée!” he called. “Elua’s blessing on her and her oath-sworn protector!”
    More cheers.
    More applause.
    I was glad. Glad for Bao and the tumblers of Eglantine House,who had worked so hard to make this occasion a worthy spectacle. Glad for myself that it had exceeded the considerable expectations it had raised. Most of all, I was glad to see his majesty allowing himself to love his tempestuous young daughter, at least in this moment.
    My father laid one hand on my shoulder. “You’ve done a good thing here, Moirin.”
    I smiled at him. “I have, haven’t I?”
    There was no doubt in his voice. “Indeed.”

TWENTY-ONE

    W inter in Terre d’Ange.
    It was long, and it was cold. Even so, it was a good time. Thanks to good counsel, a considerable measure of hard work, and the support of the priestly orders, Bao and I had won the battle in the court of public opinion. We were well liked by many, and with the deed done and my oath sworn, those who had spoken against it ceased their grumbling.
    Desirée continued to flourish under the firm, tender care of Sister Gemma and the tutelage of Aimée Girard. Bao continued to study with her on a daily basis. King Daniel paid more attention to his daughter, making a point of visiting her at least twice a week.
    Thanks to the largesse of House Shahrizai, we settled into a comfortable routine in our borrowed home, and began to entertain visitors like Balthasar Shahrizai, whose company Bao enjoyed, and Lianne Tremaine, for whom I had come to feel a certain prickly fondness.
    It was a good time.
    The Longest Night drew nigh. Benoit Vallon devised costumes for Bao and me, deciding that we should attend the Midwinter Masque in the guise of Hades, the Hellene god of the dead, and his bride Persephone.
    “I’m not usually so literal, but it seems apt,” he said, framing Bao with his hands. “I’m not sure why.”
    As with everything the couturier did, the costumes were lovely.Bao made a grave Hellene deity in robes adorned with sparkling jet, a wreath of iron laurels on his head. My gown was green and gilt for spring, and my hair was crowned with a wreath of gold.
    We attended the royal masque with her young highness, who was dressed as a winter sprite in a frothy white gown with a pair of charming gauze wings.
    I had to own, the taste of
joie
and the sight of the great hall filled with massive pine trees shimmering with glass icicles evoked memories that made my heart ache. “Did you know it was your mother who first thought to decorate the hall with trees on the Longest Night?” I asked Desirée.
    She shook her head, gazing up at a towering specimen. “Truly?”
    “Oh, yes.” I brushed the fragrant green needles