Naamah's Blessing

members of the Great Houses, and surely not the impoverished young noblemen of the Lesser Houses who had pledged themselves to our quest. With every toast, they cheered and stamped their feet.
    “To Thierry!” they cried. “Prince Thierry!”
    “
King
Thierry! Long may he live!”
    It brought me a certain grim pleasure to see Duc Rogier’s face harden at the reminder that Thierry de la Courcel, if he was indeed alive, was in fact the rightful King of Terre d’Ange. Mostly, though, I wanted this charade of an evening to end. For the first time since my lady Jehanne had come to me in my dream, I was looking forward to getting this venture under way.
    And although it seemed that it never would end, at last the evening did. The only thing left to endure was the Duc’s final farewell. There, before all the assembled peers, he clasped Bao’s hands in a respectful manner, and then embraced me warmly and wished us well on our quest.
    “All of Terre d’Ange will pray for your success and safe return,” he said in a solemn voice.
    I smiled sweetly at him. “Your excellence, I am perfectly well aware that you consider this quest a monumental folly without a chance in the world of succeeding, and that you are only backing it because to do otherwise would lay your grasping ambition bare for all the realm to see.” Pressing my palms together, I bowed to him in the Bhodistani manner. “I will do my best to prove you wrong.”
    Rogier de Barthelme gaped at me.
    Without giving him a chance to reply, I turned and made my exit from the great hall, Bao beside me.
    Outdoors, I felt limp with relief that the ordeal was over. Bao was chuckling over my parting comments.
    “I knew you wouldn’t be able to hold your tongue all night long,” he said. “Did you see the look on his face?”
    “It was foolish of me,” I muttered.
    “No, I don’t think so.” Bao shook his head. “You’re right. If you’d faced him down earlier, all it would have done was cause strife and weaken our hand. But this, everyone will remember. You had the final word.”
    “Finding Thierry and bringing him safely home will be the final word, my magpie,” I reminded him.
    “True,” he agreed.
    As endless as the evening had seemed, out of consideration for the morrow’s dawn departure the fête had begun early by D’Angeline standards, and the first stars were only just beginning to emerge when Bao and I returned to our borrowed house. I stood outside for a long moment, breathing in the scent of the cypress trees and the spring-damp soil, listening to the plants in the garden rustle and grow.
    After tomorrow, it would be a long, long time before I saw dry land again.
    Inside, we confirmed that all was in readiness for our departure, our trunks packed with attire suitable for travel. I strung my faithful yew-wood bow that my uncle Mabon had made for me and tested its draw, finding it as resilient as ever, and then unstrung it and wrapped it in oilcloth for the journey.
    At my request, our steward Guillaume Norbert assembled the entire household staff. Bao and I thanked them for their gracious service, presenting each one with a small purse as a token of gratitude.
    Each and every one of them tried to refuse it, but I insisted. “You’ve all been very kind,” I said. “And I know ours is hardly the sort of household in which any of you dreamed of serving.”
    For the first time since we’d met, Guillaume laughed. “No,” he admitted. “It isn’t. In the long history of House Shahrizai, the door to the seraglio has never been closed for so long. Nonetheless, it’s been a privilege, my lady.” He bowed. “It is a valiant quest you undertake. We will pray, all of us, for your success and your safe return.”
    I was grateful to hear the words spoken with sincerity. “My thanks.”
    He bowed again. “Of course. I’ll see that you and Messire Bao are awoken in a timely manner, my lady.”
    With that done, Bao and I retired to our bedchamber. He eyed me in a speculative manner. “I suppose we ought to sleep, huh? Big day tomorrow.”
    “No.” I slid one hand around the back of his neck, tugging his head down for a kiss, feeling the familiar intimacy of our shared
diadh-anam
intertwining. “Unlike your Ch’in greatships, there will be precious little room for privacy aboard this one.
I
suppose we ought to thank Naamah for blessing our union, and celebrate it by offering up many hours of lovemaking as a prayer.”
    Bao smiled,