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Elua have mercy! Thousands of dead Euskerri. The flower of a generation.
Not bad. We were both breathing hard when Joscelin called for a halt. He smiled at me, his
summer-blue eyes crinkling at the corners. You ve kept up your training.
Yes. I forced the word past the tightness in my throat. I ve tried.
Joscelin clapped my back. Good man.
When the hour arrived to depart for the Temple of Elua, it was almost a relief. Our carriage was
draped with swags of black mourning-cloth and the headstalls of the horses had been dyed black. Our
escort of outriders wore the forest-green and gold livery of House Montrève, but each man sported a
black armband. We proceeded somberly through the streets of the City. Black cloth, black paint, black
armbands. I remembered entering the City with Sidonie . . . how long ago? Almost two years. The black
armbands, the down-turned thumbs.
This was different.
That had been a bitter reminder of my mother s legacy. This was a city in mourning. Mourning
Astegal of Carthage, who had stolen away the love of my life, whose ambition had turned all those I
loved against all they held dear. On the streets, men and women wept openly. I gazed out the window at
their faces, my heart aching. And I allowed myself the fierce consolation of remembering the quiver that
had run the length of my blade when Astegal had died, of Sidonie s hand firm atop mine on the hilt and
her unflinching courage.
And Astegal s damned head on a pike, his slack jaw gaping.
The Temple of Elua was thronged with mourners and guards. In the vestibule, I pried off my
boots quickly and slipped through the crowd in the inner garden sanctum to find Sidonie. She was with
Drustan and Ysandre and Brother Thomas Jubert at the base of Elua s effigy, Kratos at her side. I saw
her head turn as I made my way toward her. The quick flair of relief in her eyes eased a tight knot inside
me.
Imriel. Sidonie greeted me carefully. I thought to see you at the Palace this morning.
I gave her a brief bow. Forgive me. Are you well?
Her shoulders twitched. I m enduring.
Imri! Phèdre s voice behind me held a note of despairing reproach. I m sorry, your highness. I
asked him not to trouble you.
He s no trouble, my lady. Sidonie smiled at her with a mixture of sweetness and sorrow. I
quite missed his presence this morning. In a strange way, I feel I ve lost a sister and gained a brother.
She laid her hand on my arm. That irrepressible spark leapt between us, giving the lie to her words, but
we d had long practice in dissembling. I know you ve missed him, but I hope you ll spare me his
company from time to time.
Of course, Phèdre said without hesitation. For as long as you like.
He doesn t think of you as a sister, Ysandre noted suspiciously.
I m trying, I said humbly.
Drustan gave me a hard look. See that your man Kratos keeps an eye on him, he said to
Sidonie.
She inclined her head. Of course, Father. I only wish to have the comfort of family around me
on this dark day.
Brother Thomas cleared his throat. Speaking of which, we should begin, child. He took
Sidonie s hands. Are you prepared?
I am, my lord.
The priest released her hands and took his place before the plinth on which Elua s effigy stood.
He spread his arms, echoing the pose of the massive effigy behind him. The crowd ceased its murmuring
and fell silent. Brother Thomas was a big man. I remembered how he d reminded me of Berlik when I d
first seen him, with his black hair and light grey eyes. I remembered how I d spoken to Brother Thomas
and an assembly representing all the priesthoods of Elua s Companions in an effort to convince them that
my love for Sidonie was genuine. In the end, all of them had acknowledged the validity of our claim.
And now he gave her husband s eulogy.
We are gathered here today to honor the passing of Astegal, Prince of the House of Sarkal,
General of Carthage, husband of the Dauphine of Terre d Ange, her highness Sidonie de la Courcel,
Brother Thomas began. The crowd gave a collective sigh. Astegal of Carthage was a man of great and
daring vision, the priest continued. He came courting Terre d Ange with his arms laden with gifts and
his mind brimming with ideas. He captured our imagination and he captured the heart of our young
Dauphine . . .
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