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  I gazed at her without speaking, reached into my purse and drew forth the Companions' Star, holding it out on the palm of my hand.

  Ysandre went very still. "You wouldn't. "

  "You owe me a boon, Ysandre," I said softly. "Anything within your power and right to grant. This is both. "

  "No. " Ysandre's chin set with the exact stubbornness of Imriel's. "No," she repeated. "It is a matter of state and crown. Prince Imriel stands third in line for the throne, and I do not have the right, as ruler of Terre d'Ange, to place his life in jeopardy. By your own admission, he has enemies who seek his life. How can you possibly claim he would be protected in your household as he would in mine?"

  "Will he have a Cassiline Brother vowed to protect him in your household, one you trust unto the death?" I asked. "He will in mine; and defrocked or no, you once awarded him the laurels of the Queen's Champion. I can swear to the loyalty of every man, woman and child under my roof, my lady. Can you do the same?" I let my gaze linger on Barquiel L'Envers, who saluted me with a wry nod.

  "Nonetheless," Ysandre said, deliberately ignoring the implication. "It is a small household, and might be easily overwhelmed. "

  "Not that easily. " I smiled. "What Montrève lacks in holdings, my lady, it makes up for in friends and allies. How many of the Great Houses of Terre d'Ange can claim a childhood bond with the Master of the Straits?"

  It was a telling blow, and I did not deal it lightly, not in front of that audience. I stood unmoving before the Queen, holding the Com panions' Star on the palm of my outstretched hand, willing it not to tremble.

  Ysandre searched my eyes. "Phèdre, why?'

  I thought about Imriel in Daršanga, and the night he had wept for the first time. I remembered him floundering on the sandbar, wrestling the immense fish while Joscelin shouted instructions, and how he had beamed when Bizan gave him his fire-striker. I remembered, most of all, how he had flung himself to my defense on the isle of Kapporeth.

  "Not all families are born of blood and seed, my lady. You ought to know that much. If Anafiel Delaunay had not loved your father, you would be dead. "

  Her face stiffened. "You hold that against me at last?"

  "No. " I shook my head, feeling sad. "I merely claim the price of it. "

  "And you, Cassiline?" Ysandre turned to address Joscelin, who had come up behind me. "Are you party to this madness?"

  He bowed with immaculate Cassiline grace. "Forgive me, majesty, but I am. "

  "So be it. " She took the Companions' Star from my hand, clenching her fist on it as she addressed the dumb-struck watchers. "An offer of two-fold honor has been made," she said grimly, "and a boon requested, which we are sworn to honor by our own word. " She turned to Imriel. "Is it your wish to accept this offer?"

  "Yes. " He quivered with excitement, eyes shining. "Yes, your maj esty!"

  Ysandre sighed. "Let the registers reflect that this member of our household shall henceforth be known as Imriel no Montrève de la Courcel, and he shall be fostered at House Montrève until such time as all parties conclude otherwise, presuming we do not cast his purported foster-mother, the Comtesse de Montrève, and her esteemed consort Joscelin Verreuil, in chains in the next proceedings. Comtesse, we have a letter in your own hand, in which you freely confess that you and your consort countermanded my wishes in the matter of Prince Imriel's return. Do you deny it?"

  "No, your majesty," I said.

  "You pledged to return with all possible speed to Comte Raife Laniol, Ambassador de Penfars, in Iskandria, and yet you did not. Why?"

  I cleared my throat. "Because it occurred to me instead to return by way of La Serenissima and strike a bargain with Melisande Shahrizai. "

  Ysandre's expression was cold. "And what is the nature of this bargain?"

  It was hard to hold her eyes, but I made myself do it. "That I will raise her son, and not you. And in exchange, her oath that she will not raise her hand, nor any other's, against you or your daughters. "

  Whatever Ysandre had expected, that was not it. She looked away. "Hence the offer of two-fold honor. ”

  "No," I said. "I would have made it anyway. What I said before holds true. But this was the only time I could use it as a bargaining chip. I'm sorry, my lady, truly. "

  "You actually think she will abide by this oath, anguissette?" It was Barquiel L'Envers who asked, leaning idly against Ysandre's empty throne, as dangerous as a basking leopard. "What an amusing notion! You are still a touch besotted, my dear. "

  I didn't answer him, but only watched Ysandre. She had called me mad, once, for what I had believed of Melisande. And after La Serenissima, she had promised never to doubt me again. I knew I was right. I didn't know if Ysandre knew it, or cared.

  She eyed me. "Do you have aught else to say?"

  "Yes, your majesty. " I knelt and proffered the coffer I'd held tucked under my left arm, opening the lid. "Her majesty Queen Zanadakhete of Meroë, who is likewise ruler of Jebe-Barkal, sends her greetings, and wishes you to know that she would welcome a D'Angeline embassy in Meroë, did you wish to send one. "

  Ysandre removed the necklace from the coffer and held it up for inspection. The necklace dangled from her hand, gleaming gold, the massive emerald betwixt the horns of Isis refracting glints of green light on the walls of the throne-room.

  It was worth a king's ransom.

  "Queen Zanadakhete of Meroë," Ysandre echoed.

  "Yes, your majesty. " I'd bowed my head after I gave it to her; I kept it that way.

  "Phèdre. " Her tone startled me into looking up. Ysandre's face was unreadable. "Did you find the object of your quest?"

  We might have been alone in the throne-room, she and I. When all was said and done, we had been through a good deal together, Ysandre de la Courcel and I. My lord Delaunay had pledged his life to protect her, for love of her father. Most of the battles I have fought have been her battles, and if I have regretted any, it was only the means, not the cause.

  Our lives too were intertwined.

  And that too was the Name of God.

  "Yes, your majesty," I said, gazing up at her and feeling unbidden tears prick my eyes. "I found what I sought. "

  Ysandre nodded slowly and looked about the throne-room, the Companions' Star in one hand, the necklace of Queen Zanadakhete of Meroë in the other. No one spoke; even Barquiel L'Envers did not crack a smile. "In your missive, wherein you admitted your guilt, you cited the rainy season in Jebe-Barkal as a reason you chose not to delay and return Prince Imriel into the custody of Lord Amaury Trente. Is it not so?"

  "Yes, my lady," I murmured. "It is so. "

  "Well and good. " Ysandre dropped the necklace into the coffer I held still in my outstretched hands, closing the lid and nodding to a bowing attendant to take it. "Since your guilt is admitted freely, this, then, is my sentence. For the duration of a season, this season you were unwilling to squander for my kinsman's safe return, you and your household will abide in the City of Elua. "

  Hyacinthe.

  "Enough!" Ysandre's eyes flashed. "How much indulgence will you beg of me, Phèdre nó Delaunay? You were quick to boast of the Master of the Straits' friendship; is it such a slight thing that three more months will jeopardize it? You will abide in the City for the duration of winter, and do you set foot outside the walls, you will be charged with treason. Is that understood?"

  "Hyacinthe gave his life for you, my lady," I said. "For you, and for Terre d'Ange, that Drustan mab Necthana might ride to your aid and your side. "

  "No. " Something softened in Ysandre's face. "He gave it for you, Phèdre. And I am not unmindful of the sacrifice he usurped. Nonethe less, you knowingly defied my will, and your transgression carries a price. I regret that Hyacinthe son of Anasztaizia must bear the cost— but it is on your head, and not mine. Will you abide by my judgement?"

  I bowed my head, feeling the cold marble beneath my knees. It was bi
tter—and it was fair. "Yes," I whispered. "I will abide. "

  NINETY-TWO

  WHEN POETS sing of the Bitterest Winter in Terre d'Ange, they mean the winter before the Skaldic invasion, when sickness ravaged the land, when Melisande Shahrizai and Isidore d'Aiglemort betrayed it, when Ganelon de la Courcel, the old King, died. For me, it was this one.

  It began with Ysandre's dismissal, and the long walk back through the throne-room, through the Palace halls. I had been too quick to boast of my composure under the stares of my peers. These cut hard and deep, and the whispers had turned cruel.

  "Phèdre. Phèdre. "

  No wonder I had been unable to find Hyacinthe in my dream. The way back was longer than I had imagined, and there were more steps to retrace. For Imriel’s sake, I kept my shoulders squared and my head high, and blessed for the thousandth time the presence of Joscelin. The whispers ran off him like rain, and he met eyes contemptuous of his downfall with a cool disinterest. He had already lived through his own personal hell. There was nothing with which the peerage of Terre d'Ange could threaten him.

  I could have said no.

  Ysandre could have clapped me in chains; she would not have done so. I knew that as surely as I knew that Melisande would abide by her oath. If I had gone to Hyacinthe then and there, Ysandre would have allowed it.

  Afterward, I would have paid.

  And I could not blame her for it. I had defied her, behind her back and to her face, forcing her hand in a state forum. She was the Queen of Terre d'Ange. Such actions could not go unpunished, not without breeding repercussions that would plague her reign for years to come.

  In the eyes of the realm, the punishment was a light one. If I had refused to submit, if I had defied her once more, it would have been more grave.