Naamah's Blessing by Jacqueline Carey Read Free Book Online Page B

interruption in the princess’ daily routine, I rose to bid Desirée farewell.
    “I fear your tutor has been kept waiting overlong, your highness,” I said apologetically. “ ’Tis best Bao and I leave for now.”
    “Thank you for coming to see me.” There was a formal, rote quality to the words; a seriousness of purpose that was the first I’d seen of Daniel de la Courcel in the child. “It was very nice.”
    “We’ll come again if you like,” Bao offered.
    Her face brightened, blue-grey eyes sparkling to life. “
Will
you?”
    “Uh-huh.” He grinned at her and nudged me. “Won’t we, Moirin?”
    “We will,” I confirmed. “I promise.”
    The senior nursemaid Nathalie ushered us into the hallway, closing the door behind us. “My lord, my lady… as you have seen, she’s a precocious and complicated child.” Her expression was stony. “By her standards, she behaved well enough for you today. If there was truly no magic in it, it is only because the two of you presented her with anovelty. Do not presume to understand the difficulties of raising her day in and day out. Do not presume to tell me my business.”
    “I don’t,” I murmured.
    “I think you do.” Nathalie’s gaze was sharp. “I know who you are, and what you were to Queen Jehanne for a brief time.” She lowered her voice. “Just because you shared her bed gives you no special insight into her daughter.”
    I held her hard gaze. “Does the gown prickle?”
    The nursemaid blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
    “It is a simple question,” I said. “Children’s skin is more tender than ours, especially when they are young. It seems to me that if the underside of the embroidery pricks her skin, it might be enough to goad her into misbehaving. Have you felt it?”
    “She is a King’s daughter, and a Princess of the Blood. Jewels are her birthright.” Her expression hardened further, challenging me. “Name of Elua! Would you have the child dressed in rags?”
    “No,” I said. “Of course not. But have you felt it?”
    Gritting her teeth, Desirée’s senior nurse drew herself upright. “No, my lady, I have not. I will do so.”
    “Good,” Bao said simply.
    Her glare followed us down the hallway.

SEVEN

    N ot long afterward, we met Rogier Courcel—the Duc de Barthelme, Lord Minister of the realm, and the companion of my father’s youth.
    “I trust we’re meeting under happier circumstances, Lady Moirin.” The smile he summoned was tired, but not so deeply tired as the King’s. It held the weariness of a man overburdened by duty. “As I recall, you were rather distraught on the previous occasion.”
    I flushed, remembering.
    The Duc de Barthelme and my father had ridden out to meet the royal hunting party I had accompanied, and I had been in a rare state of anguish, conflicted over my feelings for both Raphael and Jehanne, and feeling as though I’d not a friend in the world. Upon meeting my father for the first time, I’d flung myself into his arms and wept on his shoulder.
    “Indeed, your grace,” I murmured. “Forgive me my rudeness. I was young and foolish.”
    My father chuckled, and the Duc glanced sidelong at him. Rogier Courcel was a handsome fellow with thick, curling black hair, the strong brows of House Courcel, and grey-green eyes. I liked the easy manner he and my father had with each other, which spoke of their long familiarity. “You did manage to generate a considerable amount of scandal in a short time,” he agreed. His gaze shifted to Bao. “I take it those days are behind you?”
    Bao bowed. “I would not count on it, my lord.”
    The Duc’s smile deepened. “Ah, well! The City of Elua can always use a measure of scandal. Moirin, Phanuel tells me you wish to send a message to your mother in Alba. I’ve a courier leaving on the morrow with a packet for the Cruarch, and he’s likely to be the last of the season. Would you care to add a letter?”
    “Very much so, your grace.” I smiled back at