not be a bad thing to have a nursemaid with a physician’s skills,” Bao noted.
The priestess folded her hands in the arms of her robes. “Many of the children brought to us, especially the very young ones, are frightened and confused. Part of my duty is to soothe and comfort them.” She hesitated. “I do not wish to sound presumptuous, my lady. But since resigning her post, Nathalie Simon has been spreading tales about her young highness, claiming that she is an unmanageable child growing worse under your influence.”
“Ah… that would be me,” Bao admitted. “But I have learned better than to overexcite her.”
Gemma smiled at him. “Be that as it may, Messire Bao, I do not believe there is such a thing as an unmanageable child. Only frightened or angry children, and caretakers who lack the patience to manage them.”
I steepled my fingers in a contemplative mudra. “I trust you and Sister Marianne are aware that there is a political aspect to this appointment?”
Her blue eyes were grave. “Very much so, Lady Moirin. Sister Marianne was most distressed to hear of the Lady of Marsilikos’ complaint. House Mereliot is one of Eisheth’s most ancient and venerated lines; and Eisheth’s business is healing, not causing strife.”
“Would your appointment further this strife?” I inquired.
She inclined her head. “It is a valid question, and one I cannot answer with certainty. The High Priestess does not believe so. She believes it would deliver a necessary reminder to Eisandine peers.”
“How so?” Bao asked.
Again, Gemma hesitated. “I do not wish to be presumptuous—”
“Presume,” I said.
“It is no secret that his majesty avoids the child,” she said softly. “That it pains him to see Queen Jehanne in her. Even young children sense such things. Surely, it has hurt the princess in turn. So if I may presume, I would say that his majesty’s decision to assign you a significant role in the princess’ life represents his best effort at mending the damage. You can see the mother reflected in the child, and love her for it as his majesty is unable to do. There are wounds of the spirit as grave as wounds of the flesh, and they, too, need healing. This is the reminder that Eisheth’s Order would offer the peers of the realm.”
Bao turned to me. “Hire her.”
I ignored him for the moment. “How can you be sure?” I asked the priestess. “I might be seeking the role for political purposes.”
“You, Lady Moirin?” Gemma laughed, but nicely. “No, I do not think so. Nor do I think you would be going to such trouble on her highness’ behalf if you did not care for her.”
A smile tugged at my lips. “Would you like to meet her?”
“It would be my honor.”
We found Desirée fitful and restless, having refused her afternoon nap; and the nursemaid Paulette near tears.
Within a quarter of an hour, the young princess was half-asleep in the priestess’ lap, her head nodding while Gemma sang low, rhythmic songs to her in a remarkably soothing voice.
“Elua have mercy!” Paulette breathed. “ ’Tis a miracle.”
“No miracle.” The priestess smiled. “Music is Eisheth’s other gift to mankind, and there’s healing in it, too.”
“Do you truly desire the post, my lady priestess?” I asked her.
Gemma stroked Desirée’s flaxen hair, trailed one fingertip over the curve of the child’s fair cheek, touched the perfect bow of her pink, parted lips. As her gaze lifted to meet mine, I fought a surge of irrational jealousy. “I do, my lady Moirin.”
I bowed to her. “It is yours.”
SIXTEEN
Almost immediately, Desirée flourished under Sister Gemma’s care. She became calmer, happier, eager to please for the sake of the pleasure that came of behaving kindly toward others.
I was glad.
And a little bit jealous, still.
“It’s for the best,” Bao consoled me, his arms wrapped around me. “You do know that, don’t you, Moirin?”
“Of course I do.”
His arms tightened. “We’ll have babes of our own one day,” he predicted. “Remember? I told you so a long time ago.”
I laughed and kissed him. “Aye, I do. Fat, happy babies.”
“Exactly.”
The tides of public opinion continued to sway back and forth. For a mercy, they began to swing in our direction. The appointment of Sister Gemma, and the support of Eisheth’s Order that accompanied it, were the first stroke of good fortune.
The second stroke came the following day, or more precisely, very early in the morning of the following day, when Bao and I were awakened by an urgent summons from one of the young acolytes in the