Read Kushiel's Mercy for Free Online

stated desire?” Ysandre asked me.
    I stood and bowed. “It is, your majesty.”
    Ysandre nodded. “I am advised by the priesthood of Blessed Elua that your claim is worthy,” she said slowly. “And here before those assembled, I swear in Blessed Elua’s name that I will not forbid your union.”
    There were gasps, hisses, and a few quickly stifled cheers.
    Ysandre raised her hand. “However.” Her voice hardened. “I am advised by many others that this union is a dagger that cuts at the heart of Terre d’Ange. Let me say this.” She looked squarely at me. “Imriel de la Courcel has served the thrones of both Terre d’Ange and Alba with honor. I do not accuse him of sedition. But when I look upon the faces of those here assembled . . .” Her gaze drifted over the crowd. “I see a thousand anguished memories of lives lost on the fields of Troyes-le-Monte, memories you children cannot begin to compass. I see fear and suspicion, a canker eating at the heart of the realm. I see old hatreds roused, old wounds bleeding, and the seeds of discord being sown.”
    There was a genuine ache behind her words, and I did not think she took any pleasure in the fierce nods of agreement from those assembled on the left of the hall. I’d had my differences with Ysandre, but I’d never doubted she loved Terre d’Ange.
    “Blessed Elua cared naught for crowns and thrones,” she said quietly. “Those words, I am told, were spoken by Melisande Shahrizai.”
    The mention of my mother’s name evoked another hiss.
    Ysandre raised her hand for silence a second time. “It is true,” she said. “It is also true that Blessed Elua cared naught for the trappings of mortal society, the conventions and rules by which we bind ourselves.” She closed her eyes briefly. “ Love as thou wilt. It suffices unto itself.” Opening her eyes, she gazed at Sidonie. “That I grant you, my love,”
    she murmured. “Love as you will. But if you declare him your consort, know that I will not acknowledge it. There will be no legal binding. And if you wed him . . .” The Queen’s jaw tightened as she forced the words out, sorrow in every syllable. “If you wed him, I will disinherit you.”
    In silent acquiescence, Sidonie inclined her head.
    “This I swear in Blessed Elua’s name before all here assembled.” Ysandre’s voice sharpened. “Do you hear and acknowledge it?”
    “I do, your majesty.” Sidonie lifted her chin and gazed at her mother. “Is there aught that might make you recant this vow?”
    “Need you ask?” Ysandre said wryly.
    Sidonie held her gaze without blinking. “I would hear you say it before all here assembled.”
    The hall was deathly silent. I felt Ysandre’s gaze shift, felt the weight of it fall upon me.
    Felt the unwanted burden settling on my shoulders.
    “Yes,” she said gently. “Of course. Twenty-some years ago, on the blood-soaked battlefields of Troyes-le-Monte, Melisande Shahrizai was convicted of treason and sentenced to execution for conspiring with the Skaldi warlord Waldemar Selig to conquer Terre d’Ange. That death, she evaded.” Her throat worked. “Imriel de la Courcel, do you find your mother and bring her to justice, I will recant this vow and grant every blessing to your union.”
    There it was, then.
    The burden.
    I bowed deeply for a third time, holding it. The silence in the hall persisted. I straightened and met the Queen’s eyes. “I hear and acknowledge your words, your majesty.”
    Ysandre inclined her head. “That is all.”
    The Queen made her exit through the throne chamber, but it took a long time for the crowd to disperse, mingling excitedly to discuss the news. Sidonie’s guardsmen hovered close, mindful of the hostile element, and Joscelin took care to position himself at my side while we waited for the throng to thin. But there were no threats, only a long, bland stare from Barquiel L’Envers that didn’t disguise the seething dislike beneath it.
    “What in