Naamah's Blessing

beside me. “Dear heart, it’s time to say good-bye for now. Remember how we talked about being brave?”
    She nodded.
    “Remember this?” I shifted my hands into a reassuring
mudra
, and then a
mudra
of concentration. “And this?”
    The effort of concentrating on emulating my gestures distracted Desirée from her tears. “I remember, Moirin. It’s a way to make prayers.”
    “Good girl.” I kissed the top of her head. “When you think of Bao and me while we are gone, mayhap you will pray for us, and for your brother, Thierry, and all the men with him, and everyone travellingwith us. All the way across the ocean, it will gladden our hearts, and it will help you to be brave, too.”
    She gazed at me with a child’s wide-eyed willingness to believe. “Truly?”
    “Truly,” I said firmly. “Now, give us both a good-bye hug.”
    “A really, really good one,” Bao added. “As hard as you can, so we’ll feel it for days and days!”
    With a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, Desirée obliged, wrapping her slender arms around my neck and squeezing me with fierce strength, burying her face against the curve of my throat. “I love you,” she whispered in a muffled tone. “I do! And I will pray every day, I promise!”
    I returned her embrace, pressing one last kiss against her fine, silken hair. “I love you too, dear heart,” I whispered in reply. “And I thank you for your prayers.”
    When I released her reluctantly, she hugged Bao with equal fervor. He whispered somewhat in her ear, and rose to his feet holding her. When she unwound her arms from around his neck, Bao tossed her a foot or so into the air, then caught her effortlessly, eliciting a faint, sorrow-tinged giggle from her. After one more hug, he kissed her cheek and set her on her feet.
    A soft murmur ran through the hall.
    It may not have been as poignant a sight as the tableau Duc Rogier had staged, but it came close—and it was genuine. Not a few peers dabbed at their eyes with handkerchiefs as Sister Gemma escorted the young princess from the hall, Desirée glancing tearfully over her shoulder until the doors closed behind her.
    I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
    When I opened my eyes, the Comtesse de Maillet was staring at me with a disdain she could barely conceal. “My granddaughter lacks manners,” she said in a stiff voice. “I must confess that I am sorry to see that behavior that would not be tolerated in the Night Court is encouraged in the Palace. That, I assure you, will change.”
    Without thinking, I summoned the twilight.
    It could not hide me from a gaze already upon me, but I knew it manifested nonetheless as a visible sparkling in the air around me, a sign that a gate partway into the spirit world had been opened.
    A few folk cheered; some whistled in awe. Others raised their hands in an ancient sign to avert evil. Bao gave a low chuckle.
    Jehanne’s mother took a step backward.
    “Your granddaughter lacks affection,” I said in a precise tone. “Somewhat I am given to understand House Barthelme seeks to provide her. Since you have seen fit to insert yourself into her life, I hope that you will aid them.”
    She opened her mouth to reply, but no words emerged.
    “Yes, yes, of course!” Duc Rogier came forward, putting his arms around Desirée’s newly found grandparents, steering the whole of the royal family toward the waiting tables, beckoning to all of us. “We are all concerned for her young highness’ well-being. It is a concern you voiced to me long ago, Lady Moirin, and I am doing my best to rectify the lack.” The Duc permitted himself a faint smile. “How fortunate we are that the child’s own grandmother, appointed a peer of the realm by King Daniel himself, has consented to serve as the Royal Governess in the days to come! I am only sorry I did not act sooner.” He met my gaze. “Shall we dine, and toast to the success of your endeavor?”
    Holding his gaze, I let the twilight fade. “By all means, my lord.”
    We dined.
    It was an awkward meal. I daresay a good many of the folk present didn’t appreciate the stakes at play, but I knew.
    Duc Rogier made many toasts in honor of the expedition, speaking of it in fulsome terms, giving it his every blessing, praying for our success.
I
knew he was lying through his teeth. And by the cynical expressions on the faces of our allies like Balthasar Shahrizai and Septimus Rousse, they knew it, too.
    But others didn’t—not the