Naamah's Blessing

grief, weeping openly and calling out blessings on the young princess. Desirée stared straight ahead without responding, clad in a black gown that made her translucent skin look ghostly pale. A delicate crown of gold filigree sat atop her fair hair. I held her hand and whispered words of comfort to her.
    Duc Rogier acknowledged the mourners with solemn nods. Young Tristan looked grave and noble, bending forward from time to time to pat Desirée’s other hand. She gazed at him with listless eyes.
    I remembered how she had sparkled at the tumblers’ performance the day of the oath-swearing ceremony, how his majesty had reached out to her and helped her throw the bouquet at Antoine nó Eglantine’s feet, and I wanted to weep.
    For Desirée’s sake, I didn’t.
    Bao gave me a miserable glance over the top of her crowned head, understanding.
    At the temple, we removed our shoes and stockings in the vestibule and proceeded into the garden sanctum. Directed by priests andpriestesses, we took our place at the base of the plinth on which the effigy of Blessed Elua stood. A seemingly endless throng of mourning peers followed us, jostling for position. Exchanging complicit nods with the royal guardsmen in attendance, Bao took a protective stance beside Desirée, leaning on his bamboo staff. Somehow, they’d gotten word of his prowess.
    Once the sanctum was full and the doors to the temple had been barred, the senior Priest of Elua who had presided over the oath-swearing ceremony gave the invocation. It was earnest and heartfelt, reminding the crowd of all the tragic losses House Courcel had suffered over the years, and it reduced well nigh the entire crowd to tears—including me. Although I managed to keep from sobbing aloud, this time I couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
    I couldn’t help it.
    When he was done, Duc Rogier spoke. “They were kin,” he said simply. “And I loved them both very much. Prince Thierry for his unfailing good nature, his boundless spirit of adventure. King Daniel for his vast, gentle heart, and his gracious manner. And today I am angry at the gods for allowing their best qualities to destroy them.”
    A murmur ran through the crowd.
    The priest raised one hand for silence. “The gods understand.”
    “I hope they do.” Duc Rogier Courcel de Barthelme turned to glance at Blessed Elua’s effigy. “While I am not a member of House Courcel proper, I am descended from it. I bear the Courcel name, as do all the members of House Barthelme.” He bowed in Desirée’s direction. There were tears in his eyes, but the line of his jaw was set and firm. “I was your brother’s oath-sworn protector, young majesty, not yours. But I swear to you today, I will do all in my power to keep further sorrow from touching House Courcel.”
    “As will I!” Tristan called in a ringing voice. “I promise, Desirée!”
    It was well received—and it made me angry.
    The worst part of it was that I
didn’t
doubt the Duc’s grief was sincere.But it was still a piece of theater. He was willing to use his grief and the plight of a royal orphan to further his own ends.
    At least it dried my tears.
    “Moirin, don’t glower,” Bao murmured to me. “You can’t afford to lose sympathy.”
    I gritted my teeth. “I am trying!”
    Desirée tugged at my hand. “What’s wrong, Moirin? Are you angry at the gods, too?”
    It was the first spark of life I’d seen from her since her father’s death. I knelt and hugged her. She felt oh, so very fragile in my arms. “Today, yes, dear heart. Today I am hurt and angry. But it’s all right. It’s all right to feel such things. Everyone does. You heard the priest, didn’t you? The gods understand sorrow—and anger, too.”
    She put her arms around my neck, nestling her face against my throat. “Why do they send so much of it?”
    “I don’t know,” I admitted.
    Bao crouched beside us. “It is their way of teaching us to be strong,” he said to her. “It is a hard way, but it is the only way. And you
are
strong, aren’t you?”
    The young princess gave him a faint smile. “Strong like a dragon?”
    He nodded. “Exactly.”
    After the funeral service was concluded, there was another procession through the streets of the City of Elua, ending in a reception at the Palace. Sister Gemma reclaimed Desirée and restored her to the nursery. I watched the politicking that took place, feeling uneasy at it.
    Life ended, but politics continued.
    When the