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“Sidonie refused your charge,” I said.
Ysandre shrugged. “She accepted the regency. We will discuss it later. ”
“Your majesty!” I said sharply. “Will you force her to use violence against your own people?” She winced as though I’d struck her. I beheld the fault-lines of pride and shame in her and exploited them without mercy. “With all due respect, your majesty, your daughter’s ordeal has been worse than yours. And yet she has consented to bear this burden until you are ready to resume it. Will you truly weighten her load?”
That stung her.
Ysandre’s head rose, her cheeks flushing. “You dare speak to me thusly?”
“Yes,” I said ruthlessly.
“Ysandre,” Phèdre murmured. Her name, nothing else. The Queen looked askance at her. If there was anyone in the world who knew aught about carrying terrible burdens, it was Phèdre nó Delaunay.
“I’ll accompany you,” Drustan offered.
“No. ” Ysandre closed her eyes, then opened them, squaring her shoulders in a familiar gesture. “No, stay. Lelahiah isn’t finished. Imriel is right. I need to do this. ”
Exiting the tent, Ysandre summoned a company of the Palace Guard and placed them under Joscelin’s command. He accepted it without comment, bowing in the Cassiline manner. Back to the Palace we rode, a hundred strong. This time, people cleared the streets. Ysandre sat very straight in the saddle, her face stark. No one begged her for answers. Outside the gates of the Palace, she met Isabel de Bretel’s gaze without flinching.
“My lady de Bretel,” Ysandre said in a steady tone. “I am so very sorry for making you suffer. ”
The elderly baronesse bowed her head. “Your majesty. ”
Ysandre looked at the guard. “Open the gates. ”
He did with alacrity. We entered the courtyard. The guards on the outer doors fidgeted.
“Summon Captain Duval,” Ysandre said. “Summon the guard. Summon the Royal Chamberlain Lord Robert and the household staff. I want them all assembled. ”
They obeyed. We waited while ostlers and stable-lads peered at us, gaping. In a short while, there was a considerable crowd of guards and attendants spreading into the courtyard. I knew Diderot Duval by sight. He stared at us, flanked by uncertain guards, his face working helplessly. I pitied him.
“Hear me,” Ysandre said to them. “Until further notice, you will obey her highness Sidonie de la Courcel as the rightful and acknowledged regent of Terre d’Ange. Is that understood?”
Most murmured in agreement.
“Your majesty, no!” Captain Duval cried. “You’re ensorceled! This is madness, this is sedition—”
“Take him,” Ysandre ordered the guards surrounding him. “Gently. See him to the Palace infirmary. ” The Palace Guardsmen descended on him as gently as possible, but he struggled. They bore him away, his cries echoing along the empty marble corridors. Ysandre shuddered, then gathered herself and turned to Sidonie. “Am I asking too much of you?” she asked, searching her daughter’s face.
“No,” Sidonie said softly. “You taught me well. But the people need you, you and Father, too. ”
“Right now, we all need one another,” I added.
“Imriel de la Courcel. ” Ysandre looked at me and shook her head. “I suppose you’re going to insist on wedding him now,” she said to Sidonie.
Sidonie gave her a faint smile. “Unless you want to lose your heir and regent, yes. Don’t you think he’s proven himself worthy?”
“Stubborn child. ” Ysandre reached out to stroke Sidonie’s hair, then leaned over in the saddle and kissed her brow. “I do. And I don’t want to lose either of you. ” She straightened. “I’m going to return to your father. But if you’ve need of aught, send for me. ”
The Queen left the bulk of the company of guards with us, returning to the Square with only a score under Joscelin’s command. She left us with a courtyard thronged with folk: the Palace Guard, the Dauphine’s Guard, the Palace chamberlain and his household, Isabel de Bretel and her men, all looking to Sidonie for guidance.
“Well and so. ” She took a deep breath. “Lord Robert, please prepare quarters for the Baronesse de Bretel and her men and see to their needs. They’ll be carrying an important message of peace for us. Please see to it that they have suitable tents, supplies, and attendants. ”
He bowed. “At once, your highness. ”
“My lord de Monluc. ” Her gaze fell on Claude. “Send a man to the Square to search for Michel Carascel. I believe he suffered minor injuries. He’s still Captain Duval’s second in command, is he not?”
“He is,” Claude affirmed.
“Inform him that he’s been promoted,” Sidonie said. “He’s to assume command of the Palace Guard. They are to return to their regular duties. ” Claude bowed. “Send a messenger to Ghislain nó Trevalion,” she continued. “I want an escort of fifty . . . no, thirty. Thirty members of the Royal Army for the Baronesse de Bretel. ” She glanced at me. “Thirty?”
“Thirty’s good,” I said. “Enough for safety’s sake, too few to seem a threat. ”
“Thirty, then,” Sidonie said. “Prepared to depart for Turnone on the hour. I want all of them given white pennants of peace to carry. ”
“All of them?” Claude echoed.
“All of them,” Sidonie said firmly. “Let there be no mistake about our intentions. Terre d’Ange is at peace. We will escort their company to the gates of the City. On the heels of their departure, we will hold an open audience. Lord Robert, please notify the Secretary of the Presence. Lady Denise should be on hand to record the proceedings. And please alert the Queen’s Couriers. I will prepare a proclamation for them to carry throughout the City on the immediate conclusion of our audience. ”
“Only the City?” the chamberlain inquired.
“For the moment,” Sidonie said. “Word of the full tale will spread quickly in the City. I’ll prepare a more thorough account to be disseminated throughout the realm, but I’m not sure we’ve sufficient couriers for such a massive undertaking. ” She frowned in thought. “The Royal Army might serve, though there’s the matter of aid to Aragonia to be discussed—”
“Sidonie. ” I interrupted her. “There’s time. ”
She caught herself. “That will do for now. I’ll be in my quarters drafting a proclamation. Let me know when all is in readiness. ”
The crowd dispersed in various directions, grateful to be given a sense of purpose. I escorted Sidonie unbidden to her quarters. She dismissed the frightened chambermaid with a kind word of reassurance. Once the girl had gone, Sidonie sank to her knees, covering her face with both hands.
I crouched before her. “Are you all right, love?”
“Yes,” she said, muffled. “And no. ”
I took her shoulders in my hands. “You don’t have to do this all at once. And you don’t have to do it alone. They’re shocked. It will pass in time. Your mother’s promised her aid if you need it. In the meanwhile, send for Alais and L’Envers. They’ve got a shadow Parliament in place: they’ve been virtually governing Terre d’Ange. And I think it will do everyone good to have a great public reconciliation. ”
“Yes. That’s a good thought. ” She dropped her hands. Her eyes were bright with tears. “Ah, gods! I’m sorry. I tried. I tried and tried. I wasn’t strong enough. ”
“Sidonie!” I shook her. “Don’t ever think that. ”
“It hurt. ” She rubbed her eyes with the heel of one hand. “And it was just so damned terrifying to feel my memories slipping away, bit by bit. Then one day I was sitting in the bath, feeling like there were red-hot shackles around my wrists and ankles, and I thought, why am I enduring this? And I couldn’t remember. So I took them off. Just like that. And then it didn’t hurt anymore and I didn’t care. I was gone. ”
“Not all of you,” I reminded her.
“No. ” She gazed at me.
“When I saw you in the hall, walking toward the dais and dropping your sword, telling us the gods forbade the war . . . I don’t know. I didn’t remember, not exactly, but there was such a strange brightness about you. It tugged at somewhat inside of me. Why did you do it?”
I told her.
“Elua!” Sidonie’s eyes widened. “Is that how you knew where to find the demon-stone?”
“No. ” I smiled wryly. “I woke up in the hall with my head splitting, staring sideways at the damnable gem-painting. And I saw it. ” I took her hand and traced a spiral on her palm. “The design from Bodeshmun’s talisman. It was hidden in the whorls of bark on the tree. ”
Sidonie stifled an unexpected laugh. “Truly?”
“Mm-hmm. ” I leaned forward and kissed her lightly. “You have a proclamation to write and a letter to Alais. Can you manage?”
“Yes. ” Her fingers closed around mine. “I just need . . . I need you beside me. And I need this to be the one place where I don’t have to be strong. ”
I smiled again. “I know. And in that, love, I’m more than happy to oblige in any way that will ease your burden. ”
This time, Sidonie smiled back at me with a trace of genuine amusement. “I can think of quite a few. Unfortunately, the most pressing would be helping me with this proclamation. Will you?”
I rose, pulling her to her feet. “Of course. ”
Sidonie stood without moving for a moment. I could feel her gathering her strength, gathering her will. She glanced up at me, somber once more. “Do you think we’ll ever truly recover from this? All of us, I mean, not you and I. ”
“Yes,” I said honestly. I placed her hand on my chest. She spread her fingers, feeling the ridges of the scars beneath my doublet. “I don’t think things will ever be the same. They can’t be. But we’ve survived. We’ll grieve. We’ll heal. We’ll remember that there’s laughter and joy and love and desire in the world. Enough to drive out the grief and sorrow. Enough to banish guilt and shame. ”
“Do you promise it?” she asked.
“Yes. ” I slid my arms around Sidonie’s waist, pulling her against me. She put hers around my neck and clung to me, fierce and hard. I rested my cheek against her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. “I promise. ”
Eighty-Five
My heart rose at the sight of Isabel de Bretel and her escort departing the City of Elua, a thicket of white pennants flying above them. Sidonie had been right to insist on them. It was a strong image, a powerful message of peace. No one cheered—the mood was still far too sober—but there was a feeling like a collective sigh of relief. A step toward normalcy had been taken.
We returned to the Palace to hold an audience.
Mere hours had passed since the demon had been freed from the stone and the spell broken. It felt like a great deal longer. I was weary for lack of sleep. My head ached, a tender lump having risen on the back of my skull. My entire backside stung with a hundred pinpricks. My stomach still roiled.
Given the choice, I’d far sooner have told the tale quietly to a chosen few in a private salon, and I know Sidonie would, too. But it wouldn’t have been fair. It wasn’t only our story. The entire City was confused and hurting and scared, desperate to learn how they’d been brought to the brink of civil war, to learn what the terrible whirling presence that had fled the City had been, to learn how in the world they’d imagined themselves to be grieving for Astegal of Carthage.
And so once more the Hall of Audience was packed. This time it was Sidonie and I who stood on the dais alone, gazing out at a sea of faces. It felt strange to stand there and see Drustan and Ysandre’s faces among them, gazing back at us.
“My lords and ladies,” Sidonie said. “Elua’s city awoke from a fearful dream today. We are here to tell you who cast us into this nightmare and how our long sleep was broken. ”
They listened, hushed.
She spoke of Carthage and the night of the marvel. Of the memories all of them shared, of waking to believe herself in love with Astegal. Of sailing away with him while crowds cheered. “Not all your memories are a lie,” she said in a low voice. “These things happened. I believed as you did. In Carthage, I wed Astegal of the House of Sarkal. ”
A sound somewhere between a hiss and a moan arose.
“But there is one among us whose memories of that night differ,” Sidonie continued, turning to me.
I told the story as I’d told it in Amílcar, leaving out the details of the Unseen Guild. They already knew about my madness. I told them what had preceded it—the needle and the whisper, the stolen ring. This was Terre d’Ange. When I told them the words Sunjata had spoken—You’re lucky your mother loves you—there was a gasp. Still, there was no blame in their eyes. I kept going and spoke of waking from my madness to find the City in the grip of a delusion. I told them how I’d sought Barquiel L’Envers’ aid and fled to Cythera.
My mother.
Ptolemy Solon, the Wise Ape, picking apart the spells that had been wrought, giving me the key to undoing them. Leander Maignard and the spell of disguise that Solon had wrought.
Carthage, and Kratos’ true identity.
And then Sidonie picked up the thread of the tale and continued it. There were no theatrics this time, no shock of revelation as I shed Leander’s guise. Only her voice, steadily recounting the story. The rising suspicion and fear she’d felt, the realization that pieces of her memory were missing. New Carthage. How Astegal had left to beseige Amílcar. The attempt on her life. How I had come to know myself, how she had drugged her guards. How I had shown her the golden ring stolen back from Astegal, how I had told her of the spell, how I had revealed myself to her.