Free Kushiel's Scion by Jacqueline Carey

watchful eyes of the Queen's Guard.
    "I'm sorry," I said to Alais. "I was thinking of somewhat else."
    "Yes," she said impatiently, "I know. What?"
    I told her, then; a shortened version, one fit for a child. Alais listened gravely. She could be serious, when she wished; sometimes she had dreams that came true. That came from Drustan's side and his mother's blood.
    "I think you should tell him yourself," she said. "It's nice, what you're doing. What are you afraid of?"
    I explained, as best I could. Alais knew a good deal of what I had endured—Ysandre did not want her daughters sheltered from knowledge of the world's ills, and Alais had heard it long ago. But she was born of a love-match, and young, and it was hard for her to understand.
    "Well, I think he should be happy," she said.
    "Yes," I said. "But we do not always do what we should."
    Sidonies voice intervened, cool as water over rocks. "I have heard many things of you, Cousin Imriel, but never that you were a coward."
    I stared at her, furious.
    She raised her brows; gold, a deeper hue than her mother's. Unlike Alais, the Dauphine looked almost wholly D'Angeline. Only her eyes were pure Cruithne, dark and unreadable.
    "That," I said coldly, "I am not."
    "Well, then." Sidonie returned to her book, dismissing me.
    By what right a twelve-year-old girl who had never known a day's fear or hunger or want of any kind thought to insult the courage of a fourteen-year-old boy who had endured a hell that would break many a grown man, I cannot say. It was, however, singularly effective. I was still chafing at the condescension in her tone when I made my decision to go to Lombelon.
    There was a good deal of discussion. I wanted to go alone, with only a pair of men-at-arms, which Phèdre adamantly refused to allow. In turn, I argued against the entire household appearing in a show of force. Sidonie had pricked my pride, and I did not want Maslin to think I was afraid.
    In the end, I was allowed to go with a handful of men-at-arms under Ti-Philippe's command, although Phèdre did not like it. Neither did Joscelin, but he understood.
    The day was blustery, with a chill edge to the wind hinting at the winter to come. We departed in the early morning under dull grey skies. It was strange to see the City quiet and empty; the shop doors bolted, the streets almost deserted. Only a few scattered members of the City Guard were about, and a few weary revelers weaving their way home from a late night's debauch. One of them greeted Ti-Philippe, calling out a slurred salute.
    He grinned in reply. "To the flowers of Orchis!"
    I felt myself redden. Orchis was one of the Thirteen Houses of the Night Court, where Naamah's finest Servants plied their trade. Phèdre was raised in one such—Cereus House, First among Thirteen.
    "Philippe?" I cleared my throat. "What's it like there?"
    He glanced at me. "Orchis House?"
    "The Night Court."
    "Well, it depends on the House." He shrugged. "I like Orchis. They're lighthearted; merry. It suits me."
    "What about the others?" I asked.
    "They're all different." Ti-Philippe smiled. "Heliotrope's nice. The adepts there will make you feel like the only man ever to touch their hearts. And Eglantine—it's worth visiting for the poets and players alone. Jasmine… ah, there's adepts at Jasmine will leave you limp as a dishrag, half-drowned in the sweat of desire."
    Phèdre's mother was an adept of Jasmine House, but she left. And when she sold her daughter into indentured servitude, it was to the First among Thirteen; to Cereus House. "What about Cereus?"
    "Ah." His gaze sharpened. "Well, all beauty's transient, so they say; but I'm not one to ache at its passing—or at least not to relish the ache."
    "No," I said slowly. "I suppose not."
    Ti-Philippe chuckled. "Ah, don't worry, Imriel, you've got plenty of years to choose."
    The men in earshot laughed, and I blushed deeper. "That's not why I asked."
    "I know." He grinned, but nicely. "Well, if you choose to visit