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enough time to discover that our feelings for one another ran far deeper than the lure of the forbidden.
And I daresay there were secrets of Sidonie s that she kept even now. If Sidonie needed to speak of
Astegal, to tell someone things she couldn t bear to tell me, it would be to Amarante that she d turn.
The City swelled. Peers from all over the realm came, guests from overseas. The Palace was a
whirl of activity. The inns were crowded and there wasn t a townhouse to be rented. Every night there
was a new fte to attend.
Terre d Ange had come out of mourning.
I was reunited with old friends and introduced them to new ones. Eamonn and Brigitta brought
with them a strapping one-year-old boy with bright blue eyes and a thatch of ruddy hair. Lucius arrived
with his satyr s grin, unaccompanied by family. Raul and Colette returned from Aragonia accompanied
by Nicola, who had played a role in brokering the peace there and ensuring Serafin s succession to the
throne. Maslin de Lombelon arrived unannounced, smiling crookedly at my surprise. The Lady of
Marsilikos arrived accompanied by both her son and daughter. The Shahrizai came in numbers. The
Cruarch s flagship brought Hyacinthe and Sibeal and their two children, grown startling older than my
memories placed them. Urist was in Alais vanguard, serving once more as commander of the garrison of
Clunderry.
There was sorrow mixed in with the joy.
But mostly there was joy.
We needed it, all of us. And so we toasted the mourned dead and celebrated the living. I
watched Joscelin glower at the sight of Phdre laughing with Severio Stregazza, who had once offered
for her hand, and smiled as Nicola succeeded in coaxing him into a better mood. I heard Maslin s tales of
his adventures in distant Vralia and the changes yet brewing there. I watched Mavros flirt unabashedly
with an amused Lucius, and decided that Master Piero s best pupil could hold his own against my
obstreperous cousin. I listened to Eamonn and Brigitta s animated account of developing their own
philosophical academy, making notes in my thoughts.
And I watched Sidonie.
It seemed we were parted more often than not at each glittering affair. There was too much
clamor for our attention. But we always knew where the other was. Time and again, I would glance
across a crowded room and find her gaze meeting mine.
Two days before our wedding, I didn t see her at all. She departed with Amarante, bound, I
thought, for a last fitting with Favrielle nó Eglantine, but day turned into evening without her return. The
guards bade me not to worry, but they would say naught of her whereabouts. I attended a fte hosted by
Lady Nicola, thinking to see Sidonie there.
No, Nicola said, her eyes dancing. Her highness sent her regrets. It is her hope that you might
make an early night of it. You ll not be seeing each other on the eve of the wedding.
My pulse quickened. Ah.
Nicola laughed and made a shooing gesture. Go to her.
I returned to our quarters to find them ablaze with candlelight and Sidonie awaiting me. All the
attendants had been dismissed and the drapes were drawn. The air in the room took on a charge. I could
feel the blood beating in my veins.
You planned this well, love, I said.
Sidonie gave me a quick smile. I have somewhat to show you.
I raised my brows. Oh?
She took a deep breath. Will you see?
The words sparked a faint memory of a tale Phdre had told me long ago about her
foster-brother Alcuin and their lord and mentor Anafiel Delaunay. Those three simple words were the
formal request made by adepts of the Night Court on completing their marques. The debt was not fully
concluded until the marque was acknowledged. I gazed at Sidonie, the air quivering between us. She
looked young and a little uncertain.
Present yourself, I said.
She undid the laces of her bodice and pushed her gown from her shoulders. It fell around her
ankles in a shimmering pool of amber silk. She stepped neatly out of it and removed her undergarments.
Candlelight made her naked skin glow. I forced myself to breathe slowly. Sidonie gathered her clothing
and placed it carefully over the arm of the couch.
And then she knelt as I d taught her, clasping her hands behind her neck. But there was one
difference. She turned and knelt with her back to me.
My breath caught in my throat. Ah, love!
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