Naamah's Kiss (Moirin's Trilogy #1)

Naamah's Kiss (Moirin's Trilogy #1) Page 45

"Oh." I laughed. "That's a very long way."

"Indeed it is," Master Lo Feng agreed, folding his hands in his sleeves.

I wondered if he were jesting.

I didn't think so.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

I knew the very day that Jehanne took Raphael back. It was early evening when she breezed into my quarters, planning to give me a careless kiss and a promise of more time on the morrow. I was reading a treatise on the propagation of apple trees by a long-dead due named Percy de Somerville. She plucked it out of my hands and tossed it aside, sitting on my lap and kissing me.

I'd smelled her on Raphael dozens of times. But I knew his scent, too.

Now I smelled him on her.

"What?" Her eyes widened when I flinched away from her. "What . is it?"

"Jehanne." I sighed. "Raphael?"

At first she denied it; and then she got angry and hurled various items about the chamber. A hairbrush, a jewelry box, the copy of the Trots Milles Joies that she'd given me, all the pillows on the bed. Her anger broke over the room in waves. I folded my arms and let her rampage.

Then she wept.

And I saw her memories surface behind my eyes. Letters from Raphael, furious letters, pleading letters. She had finally answered one. They'd arranged to meet in secret.

Passion and tumult.

I pushed the images away.

I didn't ask why. I knew. He loved her; she loved him. Both of them had admitted it freely. I let Jehanne cry, her head in my lap, her shoulders shaking. I stroked her hair. When she'd cried herself out, she pulled herself upright and wound her arms around my neck, kissing my face.

I tried to pull away. "Jehanne….."

Her arms tightened. "Please?" Her eyes were as bright as stars, lashes wet and spiky with tears. I thought she must be the only woman in the world who could manage to look utterly breathtaking after a crying fit. "I need you. I need you to forgive me."

"Not me," I said gently. "I'm not the one bade you choose between us. It's the King's forgiveness you want."

Jehanne shook her head. "I can't. Not like this. Please?" She kissed my throat. "You have to forgive me."

"Why?"

She looked up. "Because you're going to leave me one day, and I hate knowing it. If you want me to forgive you for it, you have to forgive me this."

It didn't make sense, but it didn't have to. It was a truth of the heart and it owed nothing to reason. Jehanne was Naamah's child twice over, and she wasn't lying. No matter how much passion and tumult the day had held, there was a powerful and complicated desire rising in her and I couldn't help but respond to it.

"I need you," she said again, impatient.

"I'm here," I murmured.

For once, there was no artistry in the act of love between us. It was fierce, urgent, and raw. There was no smile on the bright lady's face, only a look of deep understanding. Jehanne expended passion like fury, taking violent pleasure in taking me. I gave myself over to it, holding her when she shuddered hard and cried out against me. It wasn't until afterward, when she lay quiet in my arms, that I felt the worst of her terrible need drain away.

"Thank you," she whispered into the crook of my neck, breath warm on my skin. "May I stay with you tonight?"

"Is that wise?" I asked.

"I can't face Daniel yet." She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Will you tell him I'm here?"

I stared at her. "You want me to get out of bed and go tell his majesty that you're spending the night in my chambers?"

"He'll understand." Jehanne gave me a pleading look. "He likes you."

I shook my head. "I must have lost my wits."

And yet I went.

I found his majesty reviewing papers in the royal study. The guard on duty admitted me without delay. It was a warm, masculine room with friezes of polished wood on the walls and a roaring fire in a great fireplace. I began sweating the moment I entered.

King Daniel, seated at a desk, lifted his head. "Moirin, well met. What is it you wish?"

"Ah….." I shifted. "Her majesty asked me to tell you that she'll be passing the night in my quarters."

"I see." He pushed his chair back and rose. "She was with Raphael de Mereliot today, wasn't she?"

I didn't answer.

The King smiled ruefully. "It's all right; you needn't lie for her. Jehanne's not as clever at subterfuge as she thinks. I know full well she was with him." He sighed. "When she chose you over him, I thought mayhap it meant she was ready."

I frowned. "I beg your pardon, your majesty?"

"She didn't tell you?" he asked. "We agreed to certain terms before we wed. Thierry is my heir and I love him dearly, but a monarch with a sole heir is ever fearful. I want Jehanne to bear my children. She begged me to wait. We settled on a period of three years. It ends on the Longest Night. On the first day of the new year, Jehanne will light a candle to Eisheth and beseech her to open the gates of her womb."

"Oh," I whispered.

Daniel clasped his hands behind his back and stared into the fire. "She's afraid."

"Of what?" I remembered Thierry accusing her of being too vain to bear children, but I thought it must be something more.

"Her mother nearly died giving birth to her," Daniel said. "And, too, I suspect Jehanne is afraid of herself." His mouth quirked. "She brought joy into my life when it was empty of all meaning. For that alone, I'm willing to forgive her any betrayal save one: Bearing another man's child."

"Oh," I repeated.

He gave me a wry look. "You can see why I was pleased she chose you over him."

"Aye." I had the urge to comfort him. "Your majesty….. I do believe the Queen is distraught over her own actions. She wants your forgiveness."

King Daniel's clasped hands tightened. "Yet she confessed to you!"

"She's afraid to face you," I said. "And she didn't confess. I accused her."

His lips quirked again. "That must have gone over well."

"She threw things," I admitted. "But afterward, she wept and said she wanted your forgiveness." It wasn't exactly true, but I thought it was true enough. And he didn't need to know about the other part.

He gazed at the dancing fire. "You may tell her she has it."

"I will," I promised. "Thank you."

Daniel gave me a sharp look. "Tell her also that I'll be less forgiving after the Longest Night. If she consorts with Raphael de Mereliot while we're trying to get with child, I will dissolve our vows and set her aside."

I bowed my head. "Aye, your majesty."

His face softened. "They say you're good for her. I do believe it. Few folk would have had the courage to accuse her, and fewer still to come here to speak to me in person." He cocked his head. "I'm curious. I have men assigned to keep watch over de Mereliot. How did you know Jehanne had been with him?"

"Ohh….." I shrugged. "I know his scent."

The King blinked. "His scent."

I nodded.

"Elua have mercy!" He laughed shortly. "My wife and her bear-witch." He waved a dismissive hand at me. "Go, go to her. Take care of her. Tell her I'll see her on the morrow."

I headed for the door, grateful.

"Moirin." King Daniel's voice halted me. I turned. He picked up a sheaf of papers from his desk and let them fall, scattering. "These are petitions," he said. "Petitions from various members of Parliament urging me to send an embassy to Terra Nova. You're an outsider. Objective. And yet you're a descendant of House Courcel. I know Thierry's spoken to you. What are your thoughts on the matter?"

I hesitated. "I don't know, your majesty. I'm a child of the Maghuin Dhonn. I would have been content to spend my life in a cave if She hadn't willed otherwise. But since you ask, I will say that I think the peers of Terre d'Ange could use a better pastime than wagering on how many days will pass before the Queen makes a chambermaid cry."

He stirred the strewn papers with his fingertips. "Thirty-seven days and counting. Thank you for your honesty." He tilted his head at the door. "Now go."

I went.

In my chamber, I found Jehanne lying on her belly on my bed, still unclad, reading the treatise on apple propagation. She glanced up when I entered. I'd never seen her naked by lamplight before. In the dusky plant shadows, she looked like a creature spun of gossamer and starlight.

"Well?" she asked.

I closed the door softly behind me. "He was having Raphael watched. He knows, Jehanne."

She turned pale—or more pale. "Is he furious?"

"No." I sat on the bed. "He said you have his forgiveness. But he also said to tell you that if you consort with Raphael de Mereliot while you're trying to get with child, he'll set you aside. Why didn't you tell me?"

Jehanne shrugged and didn't answer.

I traced the lines of her marque idly. Her skin was as fine and silken as a child's. "His majesty thinks you're afraid."

"He knows me well," she murmured. "I wish I were stronger. I'm not a very good Queen, am I?"

I drew my finger down the lovely curve of her spine. "You are the scandal and delight of the realm, my lady. Did I ever tell you about the good ladies Florette and Lydia with whom I shared a coach?"

"No." She smiled a little. "Tell me."

I told her the whole tale, how I'd slept in the stables and bedded the coach-driver Theo, how I'd had to listen to the good ladies' eternal gossip as they rehashed every detail of Jehanne's exploits with gleeful relish. How I'd escaped it to ride beside Theo, only to be driven back into the coach to endure further gossip after the bandits attacked us.

Jehanne's eyes widened. "You shot a man?"

"Only in the thigh."

She caught my hand and cradled it against her cheek. "You're brave. I wish I were brave like you."

"You're the one who rescued me," I reminded her.

"I did, didn't I?" She kissed my palm. "Mayhap I won't let you leave me, Moirin. Mayhap I'll run away with you instead."

"Oh?" I stroked her hair with my free hand. "Where exactly am I going, anyway?"

"I don't know." Her voice turned cross. "You're the one with a destiny to follow. Ask your stupid diadh-anam." Jehanne uncoiled and sat upright in one seamless motion, her unbound hair spilling over her shoulders. "Elua bids us to love as we will. And I do. Why isn't that enough? Why does it have to be so damned complicated?"

I remembered something the good lady Lydia had said in her cups. "We're the ones who make it that way. Blessed Elua cared naught for crowns or thrones."

Jehanne laughed. "Do you know who said that?"

"No," I admitted.

"One of the realm's greatest traitors." She took both my hands in hers. "I don't want to betray Daniel. Help me?"

"I'll try." I squeezed her hands. "Jehanne, my father told me a bit of what it means to be a royal companion. And I'm all wrong for it. It's meant to be someone close enough in age to be a friend to the peer they serve, but older and wiser—or at least more experienced. It's meant to be an acolyte skilled in Naamah's arts. You and I, we have our roles backward."

Her eyes sparkled briefly. "Oh, I've got you well on your way to possessing an adept's skills."

"Well." I smiled. "But he told me, too, why the practice began. At the time, the idea was that the Dauphine should have one person in her life whose loyalty she could trust without question. That, I do believe I could offer you."

Jehanne's expression turned grave. "And are you making me that offer?"

I nodded. "I am."

"You left off part of their thinking," she observed. "The idea that having one loyal confidante would help the Dauphine grow into a wiser, kinder ruler one day." Jehanne raised her brows at me. "Did you really think you had aught to tell one of Naamah's Servants about the history of royal companions?"

I laughed. "No."

"So you'd listen to my deepest fears and desires and keep all my confidences?" she asked. "Tolerate my whims and forgive my weaknesses?"

"I already do," I pointed out to her. "But if you were to trust me to do it and be honest with me, I'd be able to serve you better."

"And in turn, you expect to make me a wiser, kinder ruler," Jehanne said wryly.

I shrugged. "My lady, you are a great deal wiser and kinder than you pretend to be. On the eve of embarking on a voyage toward motherhood, there are worse things you could do than demonstrate it."

She regarded me from beneath her lashes, her face unreadable.

"Are you angry?" I asked her. With her mercurial temper, one could never be sure.

"No." Jehanne sank both hands into my hair, leaned forward, and kissed me. "I'm not angry, my beautiful girl." She brushed my lower lip with one fingertip, then kissed me again, deep and lingering. "Not angry at all."

I sighed with relief. "Oh, good."

"Mmm." She toyed with the bodice of my gown. "Moirin, why are you in my bed and still clothed?"

"It's my bed," I noted. "And you sent me on an errand that very much required clothing."