Naamah's Blessing

you exactly
where
to find Prince Thierry, and why in the world he and his party never returned?”
    “No,” I admitted. “She said there are rules. That she only knows what she’s allowed to know.”
    “Well, then.” Bao gave me a little shake. “Even if you do fail, it may be that the attempt is important. And anyway, you have to try. It’s in Desirée’s best interest, and you’re oath-bound.”
    My
diadh-anam
flickered in agreement. I smiled ruefully at Bao.“Now you’re developing the sensibilities of the Maghuin Dhonn, my magpie.”
    He let go of me and touched his bare chest with a somber look. “I have to. What would become of me if you broke your oath, Moirin?”
    I didn’t answer; we both knew. The spark of my divided
diadh-anam
had restored Bao to life. I’d sworn the sacred oath of the Maghuin Dhonn. If I broke it, that spark would be extinguished in me. I would live, albeit in a hellish state of separation from all that was sacred to my people, stripped of the gifts of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself, barred forever from Her presence.
    But Bao… Bao would die.
    The reminder gave me the strength to rise and wash and dress, to break my fast and prepare to face the members of Parliament.
    I spent the morning going over what I meant to say to them. There were two branches of Parliament in Terre d’Ange, the High and Low Councils. The High Council was composed of seventy hereditary seats among the Great Houses, ten for each province in the realm, plus a vote for the monarch and his or her heir; or in the absence of an heir of age, two votes for the sitting monarch. Since Terre d’Ange lacked a monarch, there would be only seventy votes cast by the High Council.
    Naturally, Duc Rogier de Barthelme’s would be one of them.
    The Low Council was composed of fourteen seats from the Lesser Houses of Terre d’Ange. These too were hereditary, held by descendants of the minor lords and ladies who had formed a shadow Parliament under the aegis of Alais de la Courcel, the Queen’s younger daughter, in a desperate attempt to restore order during a time when most of the Great Houses had been driven mad by dire magic and the realm torn asunder by the threat of civil war.
    If I had any allies, it would likely be in the Low Council. It was a pity there were only fourteen members.
    The Hall of Parliament was an imposing chamber, a vast space of unadorned marble with a high, vaulted ceiling. The members sat intiered rows in a gallery that curved around the room, looking down on the speaker’s floor.
    I’d been allotted a mere quarter hour in the early afternoon to address them. When I arrived, the atmosphere was calm, and I had the feeling that a consensus had already been reached. It made what I was about to do harder. Bao and my father both accompanied me, but they had to remain in the background while I walked onto the center of the speaker’s floor alone. Faces peered down from the gallery, some neutral, some curious. Only Celestine Shahrizai met my gaze with sympathy. Duc Rogier’s expression was unreadable.
    “My lords and ladies…” My voice shook. I cleared my throat and took a few deep breaths. “You know me as Moirin mac Fainche of the Maghuin Dhonn, but as I stand here before you, I would remind you that I, too, am a descendant of House Courcel—a direct descendant of Alais de la Courcel. There are fourteen of you sitting here today who would not be here were it not for my great-great-grandmother’s strength and courage.”
    There were nods of agreement all along the upper tiers of the gallery, where members of the Low Council sat.
    It heartened me. “In Alba, her counsel is credited with ensuring peace among all her folk,” I continued. “There, she is remembered as Alais the Wise. And I stand before you in the spirit of my great-great-grandmother, who never quailed in the face of terrible truths.”
    Murmurs ran around the chamber. Rogier de Barthelme frowned. It was not a tack he had expected me to take.
    I took another deep breath. “It is a difficult truth I must ask you to hear today. As you know, I also stand before you as Desirée de la Courcel’s oath-sworn protector, chosen by King Daniel himself. What you do not know is that his majesty planned to replace Duc Rogier de Barthelme as the Royal Minister.”
    In the shocked silence that followed, his face flushed with anger.
    “Is it true?” someone from the upper tiers called.
    “No,” Duc Rogier said shortly. “It’s