Naamah's Kiss

Page 33

My father blinked. "I imagine so."
"But you don't know what it is?" I pressed.
"It's not given to any of us to know our destinies," he said gently. "Is that why you left Alba?"
I sighed. "Aye. There's a sacred rite among my folk where the charge was laid upon me. I want to tell you about it. I do, truly. But I've never spoken of it to anyone save the Maghuin Dhonn."
"Then wait. If and when you're ready, I'm glad to listen." He smiled. "You might tell me of your adventures in the City. Folk are saying you've a miraculous gift for healing and you've stolen Raphael de Mereliot from the Queen."
I made a face. "Did he look stolen?"
"Not particularly."
Once I began talking, the story poured out of me. How Raphael's carriage had struck me in the street, how he'd taken me in and cared for me. How my diadh-anam had responded to him. How I'd let him use me as a pawn in his quarrel with the Queen; and then how we had combined my gift with his skill to save a man's life at the King's fete.
Even though I could see he had questions, my father listened without comment, letting the torrent flow. He didn't speak until I paused to draw breath.
"A complicated matter," he murmured.
"It gets worse," I said miserably. I told him how the King's Poet had convinced me to schedule an assignation at Cereus House, how I had gone and found Queen Jehanne there waiting for me. "I thought she meant to confront me. Instead….." My face grew hot. "Well, she was there for another reason."
My father's green eyes widened. "You didn't."
I nodded.
He looked away, looked fixedly at the ground.
"I'm sorry!" Shame deepened my flush. "I shouldn't be telling you this, should I? It's just that there's no one I can trust. And now I've lied to Raphael about it and he'll hate me when he finds out, and Jehanne's just waiting for the right moment to humiliate me with it." My father couldn't even bring himself to look at me, and I hated myself for disappointing him before we'd even met. "I know it was a foolish thing to do!" I said in a desperate tone. "I'm sorry! It was very, very stupid to let myself be seduced by someone who wishes me ill, no matter how nice she smells!"
His shoulders shook.
A new suspicion dawned. "Are you laughing at me?"
"Not quite." My father lifted his head. His face was red with the effort of suppressing his laughter, and there were tears of helpless mirth in his eyes. "Name of Elua! You've done a remarkable job of getting yourself entangled in a very large mess in a very short time."
I heaved a sigh. "I know."
"All right, all right." He collected himself, dabbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his robe. "The Queen approached you in the role of an adept?" he asked. I nodded. "Then she won't use it against you," he said firmly. "She'll let you think she will, but she won't. She can't. Not without being censured by Naamah's Order for dishonoring her vow. And believe me, Jehanne de la Courcel does not want that to happen."
It gave me hope. "You're sure?"
"Very sure." My father gave me one of his lovely smiles. "Jehanne takes great pleasure in being the Queen of Terre d'Ange and great pride in being the foremost courtesan of her day. She won't risk losing her status as the latter."
"You're sure," I said again.
"Yes." He stroked my hair. "Moirin, you're descended from a long line of priests and priestesses who have served Naamah with honor and distinction. Your great-great-grandmother was the first royal companion. And her mother was the first to welcome Phedre no Delaunay herself to Naamah's temple. You're not to be ashamed for doing what comes naturally to one of our blood. I won't allow it."
I leaned against him. "No?"
My father kissed my temple. "No."
We sat for a time in companionable silence. I could feel the warmth of his body through the fine silk robes, the steady rise and fall of his ribcage as he breathed. There was nothing more in it. He was my father; I was his daughter. The half-hidden spring burbled at our feet. The oak trees that dotted the landscape blazed with vivid hues of gold and russet and crimson, flaunting their majesty before it was time to surrender to winter's sleep and sink deep into their roots. The dark green pine trees hoarded their needles and gloated.
"The sacred rite I spoke of before is a rite of passage," I said at length. "I underwent it after Cillian was killed. And I saw Her."
He looked at me. "Her?"
I swallowed. "The Maghuin Dhonn Herself."
"You saw a bear?"
"Not just any bear." I wanted him to understand. "Her. I passed through the stone doorway and waited. Waited and waited. It was beautiful there. Bright and dark all at once. When She came, She blotted out the stars. Then She shaped Herself to a mortal scale. She gazed on me and breathed on me and acknowledged me as one of Her own. I would have stayed there forever if She'd let me and followed Her to the ends of the earth."
My father's voice was grave. "But she didn't."
"No." I shook my head. "She turned away from me. Stone and sea! Her eyes. She looked so very, very sad. And in the doorway….." Yes?
"I saw the sea." I shivered. "Sunlight on the waves, gulls crying. All I knew was that I was meant to go. That I couldn't stay in Alba. And I didn't know where else to go but here. I hoped you might tell me why."
"I wish I could." He was quiet a moment. "You said your….. diadh-anam….. recognized Raphael de Mereliot. Is he the only one?"
I started to say yes, then remembered. "No. There was one other. Master Lo Feng, the Ch'in physician. He's Raphael's mentor."
"Ch'in, eh?" My father looked startled, but he shrugged. "Well, mayhap Raphael was only the bridge meant to guide you to him."
"Mayhap." I wasn't sure how I liked the idea.
My father looked sidelong at me. "You're not ready to surrender the notion of Raphael de Mereliot, are you?"
"No." I put one hand on my chest. "It is a very strong feeling. And it hasn't gone away. We are bound together somehow."
"And Jehanne?"
"Ohhh….." My cheeks turned warm. "No, that had nothing to do with my diadh-anam."
"That's good." He smiled a little. "At least it makes matters a bit less complicated."
I sighed. "It was still foolish."
My father gazed into the distance. "There's no folly in desire. Jehanne is very beautiful. She may not be an exemplary ruler, but she was always an outstanding courtesan." He smiled again. "And she does smell very nice."
"Mm-hmm." I tried not to remember.
He laughed. "There's a reason for it. They say his majesty had a special fragrance concocted in her honor as a patron-gift when he was courting her. No one else is allowed to wear it and the head of the Perfumers' Guild has sworn to take the formula to his grave."
"Terre d'Ange is a strange place," I mused.
"Says my strange child." My father rose with easy grace, scarlet robes flowing. He gave me his hand and helped me to my feet. "Would that I had better counsel for you, Moirin," he said soberly. "You come from a culture that is foreign to me. I cannot speak to the will of the Maghuin Dhonn, and I've had no practice in being a father. But I am very pleased to find myself one, and honored to have you in my life. Whatever the purpose drew your mother and I together, I hope you find it."
I searched his face. "You're not disappointed in me?" "Name of Elua, no!" He let go my hand and touched my cheek. His smile curved his lips and lit his eyes. "You're a wonderment." I had a father. I liked him very, very much.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
I passed the night in the Temple of Naamah that had been built in honor of my great-great-grandmother.
In the City, I'd seen how my father was loved.
Even folk who didn't know him, loved him.
We walked through the marketplace together. Amid the clamor of vendors hawking their wares, a little silence followed him. Men and women lifted their heads and gazed after him, abandoning their tasks. He gave them his gentle smile like a gift.
They smiled back.
In the Tsingani quarter where the temple was located, the same sallow-faced woman I'd seen on my first visit was once again hanging laundry on her balcony. She gazed down at my father in his red silk robes, her hands going still and her face softening. He lifted his head, smiling at her. For a moment, she was beautiful.
When I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, I saw his gifts coiling around him, green and gold shimmers in the air, warm and embracing, like a blessing made visible. The heritage of Naamah and Anael. .
"Your gifts are lovely," I murmured.
His brows quirked. "You see them?"
I nodded.
"Strange child." He kissed my forehead. "Would that I could see through your eyes."
"So do I," I whispered.
At the temple, Noemie d'Etoile welcomed us gladly. We ate and drank and talked until the small hours of the night. There was a young couple seeking refuge there—a sweet young lass and a stalwart lad from a prestigious family in Camlach who opposed their union. Before we dispatched them to their bed, my father gave them good counsel and promised to travel to Camlach to speak to the lad's family on their behalf. Although I understood it was in keeping with his priest's oath, it saddened me to think of his leaving so soon.
"Will you come back?" I asked him in the morning.
"Of course," he said promptly. "Do you think you might manage to avoid further entangling yourself until I do?"
"I can try."
He laughed. "Seek out the Ch'in physician you mentioned. If he's truly linked to whatever destiny awaits you, mayhap he'll have some wisdom to impart."
"I'll do that," I agreed.
I accompanied him as he performed the morning's rite to honor Naamah, pouring out offerings of wine and honey and invoking her aid in removing obstacles from the course of troubled lovers. Noemie watched with approval.
"It's always such a pleasure to have Phanuel here," she said softly. "Do you suppose you might follow in his footsteps and enter Naamah's Service?"
I gazed at the marble effigy's sunlit face, tranquil and beautiful. "As an adept or a priestess?"
"Either path would be open to you," Noemie said. "The path of the adept holds the promise of wealth and prestige. The rewards of the path of priesthood are deeper and more profound."
I thought about the mantle of grace that lay over my father, the smiles of pleasure that trailed in his wake. I thought I understood. But when I tried to envision myself doing the same, my diadh-anam flickered with alarm. The majestic face of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself rose before me, and I remembered the vast sense of joy and pride I'd felt when She claimed me as Her own. It could be lost, all lost.
When I blinked, the vision faded, but the feelings lingered.
"No," I said with regret. "That I am Naamah's in part, I do not doubt. I've long felt her presence in my life. But I am first and always a child of the Maghuin Dhonn, and I cannot swear an oath to serve another."
"A pity," Noemie murmured.
"I have a daughter who worships a bear," my father remarked, having finished his offering.
Noemie d'Etoile went pale.
"You would understand if you saw Her," I said. "And I cannot help who I am."
"I like who you are." He smiled at me. "And I do not expect you to forsake your heritage. Only that if the gods of Terre d'Ange speak to you, you listen to them as well. It may be that their will accords with hers."
"I will listen," I promised.
After we broke our fast at the temple, my father escorted me back to Raphael's townhouse. We passed through Elua's Square so I could visit the great oak there. I told my father it remembered being planted by Elua and Anael. He shook his head in wonder, gazing up at the mighty crown of branches. I leaned my cheek against the rough bark and listened with pleasure to the oak tree's slow, ancient thoughts.
And then, all too soon, it was time to say farewell.
I invited my father inside, but he declined. "The sooner I leave, the sooner I'll return."
"I wish you didn't have to go. I'll miss you." Even though I'd known him only a day, it was true. "If Blessed Elua bade his people to love as they will, why do families like that lad's seek to keep lovers apart?"
He smiled wryly. "Because people are human and imperfect. We let matters of status and wealth affect our judgment." "You don't."
"I try." He gave me one last warm embrace. "And if you're your mother's child, I suspect you don't, either. Take care of yourself, and I'll be back in a month's time to see if you've found your destiny."
"All right," I whispered.
I watched my father walk away, his crimson robes swaying gently around him. At the end of the street, he turned and gave me one of his lovely smiles.
Then he was gone.
I sighed and went inside.
Raphael wasn't there, but he'd left word that he hoped I would join him in attending a dinner party that evening hosted by the Comte de Thibideau. One of Prince Thierry's men had delivered the filly Blossom along with a letter congratulating me on reuniting with my father and expressing the hope that I would join him on a delayed excursion to Balm House that afternoon. And Daphne told me that Benoit Vallon had sent a messenger from Atelier Favrielle saying that there were more garments ready to be fitted.