Naamah's Blessing

not.”
    “His grace was unaware of this turn of events.” I met his gaze. “Theday after his majesty made his decision, he received news of Prince Thierry’s return, rendering his decision moot. After that…” I spread my hands. “To our everlasting sorrow, we all know what transpired.”
    There were a few moments of shouting and pandemonium before the Parliamentary adjudicator banged his gavel and called for order. “Your grace, do you wish to rebut the accusation?” he inquired.
    “I don’t deem it worthy of a rebuttal,” the Duc retorted in a scathing tone. “But I would ask Lady Moirin on what grounds she bases this ridiculous accusation. Why would the King replace me?”
    “Because he grew wary of your ambitions when you proposed a betrothal between your eldest son and his four-year-old daughter,” I said.
    Duc Rogier laughed. “Because I proposed strengthening the alliance between our houses based on the fact that the young princess dotes on my boy? Why in the world would Daniel take offense?”
    I raised my voice. “Because she’s
four years old
!”
    He shrugged. “And if she were to come of age and have a change of heart, the betrothal would be annulled. This is Terre d’Ange, after all.”
    It was a lie, but it was an effective one. In the gallery, even in the upper tiers where the Low Council sat, heads nodded. I’d had them—and I’d lost them.
    Even so, I shook my head. “By then it would be too late. You’ve coached your son to manipulate her, to engage her affections by false means. You arranged that whole business with the Sun Prince—”
    “Enough.”
The Duc de Barthelme slammed his hand down on the marble railing in front of him. “This is serious business we’re about here, Moirin mac Fainche of the Maghuin Dhonn.” His eyes blazed with righteous fury. “King Daniel indulged you long enough in memory of the inexplicable favor his late wife bestowed on you. But I think we have had enough, and more than enough, of your fanciful tales, your dragons and tumblers and blind princesses and the like; and now these absurd accusations. Your presence here has sown nothing but scandal, gossip, and discord from the day you arrived. Go hometo Alba, and spin tales for your own folk. Go back to the land Alais de la Courcel chose to make her home. Leave the governance of Terre d’Ange to D’Angelines.”
    The lower galleries roared in approval, clapping their hands and stamping their feet. The upper galleries were silent.
    I felt my shoulders slump in defeat.
    “Are you calling my daughter a liar, Rogier?” my father asked from the back of the chamber in a clear, carrying voice. Unbidden, he came onto the speaker’s floor to join me, elegant and graceful in his crimson robes. The guards let him pass unimpeded, reluctant to lay hands on a Priest of Naamah. “Because I will not have it.”
    “This isn’t Naamah’s business, Phanuel,” Duc Rogier said curtly. “Stay out of it.”
    My father ignored his command. “Do you say Moirin lies?”
    The Duc locked gazes with him. “I do.”
    “Well, then.” My father inclined his head. “I fear this concludes the long friendship between us.”
    Duc Rogier’s jaw tightened visibly. “You would do that, Phanuel?” There was genuine pain mixed with the anger in his voice. “You would throw away our history, everything we have been to one another, for the sake of a daughter you barely know?” He gestured at me. “A daughter gotten on a single night’s pleasure with a half-wild Alban bear-witch?”
    “You don’t need to do this,” I whispered.
    My father turned to me, gazing at me with his green eyes so very like my own. “I do.” He turned back to face the gallery. “Yes, Rogier, I would. Because I didn’t need to know Moirin long to come to love her. Because I know that she did not lie here today. And I would remind you, and all here assembled, that it was Naamah herself that called me to Moirin’s mother.”
    There was a hushed silence in the chamber.
    Spreading his arms, my father continued. “You say it is not Naamah’s business you do here; but who are you to say? Can you discern the will of the gods? As surely as Naamah called me to Moirin’s mother, it was Naamah who led Moirin to Queen Jehanne, whosedaughter she seeks to protect here today, in obedience to her oath. So, my lords and ladies, I bid you think on
that
as you make your decision.”
    All eighty-four voices of the members of Parliament spoke at