her day in and day out. Do not presume to tell me my business.”
“I don’t,” I murmured.
“I think you do.” Nathalie’s gaze was sharp. “I know who you are, and what you were to Queen Jehanne for a brief time.” She lowered her voice. “Just because you shared her bed gives you no special insight into her daughter.”
I held her hard gaze. “Does the gown prickle?”
The nursemaid blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“It is a simple question,” I said. “Children’s skin is more tender than ours, especially when they are young. It seems to me that if the underside of the embroidery pricks her skin, it might be enough to goad her into misbehaving. Have you felt it?”
“She is a King’s daughter, and a Princess of the Blood. Jewels are her birthright.” Her expression hardened further, challenging me. “Name of Elua! Would you have the child dressed in rags?”
“No,” I said. “Of course not. But have you felt it?”
Gritting her teeth, Desirée’s senior nurse drew herself upright. “No, my lady, I have not. I will do so.”
“Good,” Bao said simply.
Her glare followed us down the hallway.
SEVEN
Not long afterward, we met Rogier Courcel—the Duc de Barthelme, Lord Minister of the realm, and the companion of my father’s youth.
“I trust we’re meeting under happier circumstances, Lady Moirin.” The smile he summoned was tired, but not so deeply tired as the King’s. It held the weariness of a man overburdened by duty. “As I recall, you were rather distraught on the previous occasion.”
I flushed, remembering.
The Duc de Barthelme and my father had ridden out to meet the royal hunting party I had accompanied, and I had been in a rare state of anguish, conflicted over my feelings for both Raphael and Jehanne, and feeling as though I’d not a friend in the world. Upon meeting my father for the first time, I’d flung myself into his arms and wept on his shoulder.
“Indeed, your grace,” I murmured. “Forgive me my rudeness. I was young and foolish.”
My father chuckled, and the Duc glanced sidelong at him. Rogier Courcel was a handsome fellow with thick, curling black hair, the strong brows of House Courcel, and grey-green eyes. I liked the easy manner he and my father had with each other, which spoke of their long familiarity. “You did manage to generate a considerable amount of scandal in a short time,” he agreed. His gaze shifted to Bao. “I take it those days are behind you?”
Bao bowed. “I would not count on it, my lord.”
The Duc’s smile deepened. “Ah, well! The City of Elua can always use a measure of scandal. Moirin, Phanuel tells me you wish to send a message to your mother in Alba. I’ve a courier leaving on the morrow with a packet for the Cruarch, and he’s likely to be the last of the season. Would you care to add a letter?”
“Very much so, your grace.” I smiled back at him. “Thank you for your kindness.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “ ’Tis nothing. Please, call me Rogier. After all, we’re near-kin.”
“Rogier,” I echoed.
“You’re lodging at the Temple of Naamah in the Tsingani quarter?” he inquired. “If you wish, I’d be pleased to grant you and your husband a suite of rooms in the Palace.”
I hesitated. “My thanks. But… I think we will wait awhile. There are too many memories here, at least for me.”
“Of course.” Rogier shifted a stack of papers on his desk, which bore a considerable amount of clutter. “I do have a favor to ask in turn. If I understand rightly what Phanuel has told me, among other things, you were involved in an unpleasant business in Vralia which could have political repercussions for Terre d’Ange. I’d like to hear about it in detail.”
“Certainly,” I said. “His majesty also indicated he might wish to speak with me.”
“About Vralia?” The Duc looked startled.
“Ah… no.” I frowned, realizing it was unlikely that King Daniel knew aught of my misadventures yet. “He did not say.”
My father and Rogier Courcel exchanged a glance. The latter folded his hands on his desk. “Moirin, I have nothing but respect for my kinsman,” he said quietly. “But I fear Daniel de la Courcel’s days of taking an active hand in steering the realm are over. He has no heart for it. Until the Dauphin’s return, that burden falls to me, and I have accepted it. Does that make you uncomfortable?”
“No, of course not,” I protested; although in truth, I wasn’t sure if it did.