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They had been away as long as I had, Phèdre and Joscelin; bound first on aout in pursuit ofI’d nearly been killed in Alba and was hunting the ician, who had done it, who had slain my wife and our unborn son If anyone could ht, it would be Phèdre She had been the one to exposethe Skaldi invasion, and she had been the one who gave the testimony that condemned my mother to death
But when I thought about those folk on the street, their thu doard in a stark reminder that Melisande Shahrizai had evaded justice, I wasn’t so sure
“Mayhap,” I said “We’ll see”
She hugged me in farewell “Come to dinner on the morrow and we’ll talk Everyone ant to see you”
“I will,” I promised
I turned in the saddle to glance after them as they rode toward the townhouse If Phèdre and Joscelin could weather everything that fate had thrown at theht hts
“It’s just politics,” she said “Not hordes of Skaldi, shapeshiftingthe world”
“True,” I said “There is that”
As it transpired, I needn’t have worried over our reception, which was cordial and proper After all, Sidonie was returning fro herI was a Prince of the Blood ine
“Welcoreeted Sidonie with a deep bow “Your mother awaits you in her quarters as soon as you have had a chance to refresh yourself”
Sidonie inclined her head “My thanks, Lord Robert”
The chahtly less for “Welcome, Prince Imriel Your quarters are in readiness Her ratitude in person for your brave deeds”
“My thanks,” I echoed
Well and so Sidonie and I glanced at one another She tilted her head, shtly “Go on I’ll send word to you”
“All right”
I watched her walk away, surrounded by her guard in their blue livery with the pale stripes We’d scarce left one another’s side since being reunited in Alba—truly reunited We had years of lost tireed that once we reached the Palace, diplorant public displays of passion So I watched her go, took a deep breath, and made my way to my quarters
That was so, anyway If Ysandre had maintained my quarters within the Palace, she didn’t mean to accuse me of sedition
They were pleasant quarters, nicely appointed, with a fresco of Eisheth gathering herbs on the ceiling, and a balcony overlooking one of the gardens I sent a chamber for the bath to be filled and servants to bring the trunk withand possessions that had been in our train
I lingered in the bedrooer than I rerown accustoold ring onmy fist until it bit into iven it to me But in truth, this bedchamber held more memories of Dorelei
Gods, I’d been an ass to her!
“I’m sorry, love,” I murmured “You made me a better man in the end I’ll try to be worthy of it”
It had been Dorelei’s last wish to send h I hadn’t wanted to She’d been right to do it, though If I hadn’t, if I hadn’t seized that bright thread of hope and joyI don’t knoould have becoht have becorown son I ht have died in the far reaches of Vralia, bereft of all reason to live Such things are never given to us to know, and in my experience, it is best not to meddle
That had been a year ago
A year since Ysandre de la Courcel found hter’s e words that singed my ears I’d left the City of Elua that day Two days later, I’d departed on the trail of the man who killed my wife, the bear-witch who’d nearly taken my life, too But in those few days, Sidonie and I had done a fair job of overturning the entire Court
Noas back
The servants brought s : a leather-bound book of love letters that Sidonie had given ues, and a flint-striking kit Everything else, I carried on er The etched vaold torc that marked me as a prince of Alba Drustan iven it to me himself when I wed Dorelei there And in the purse at my belt, a smooth stone with a hole in the center; a croonie-stone, the ollamhs called it
It had been part of the bindings that protected ic, and I carried it for reain, ever The bindings had protected me, but they’d severed me from myself, too
Never again
And yet if it hadn’t been for that binding, Iand ht never have learned to love her, and grown fro, self-absorbed youth to a man in the process
Or she ht not have been slain
I would never know
“Prince I me out of my reverie “Your bath is ready”
“Thank you” I racked my memory “Delphine, is it not?”
“Aye, my lord” She bobbed a curtsy “I’mWe were all very sorry to hear of Lady Dorelei’s death She was kind”
“Thank you,” I repeated “Yes, she was”
The cha on her pert features “Is it true that you, that you and?”
“Yes,” I said
“Oh!” Her eyes widened “Well, thenwell”
“Indeed,” I agreed gravely
Politics and gossip, the lifeblood of the D’Angeline Court I dis into the ater and enjoying a few minutes of luxurious privacy before I heard a fa at the door to the antecha