Page 145 of Stardust Child

“That’s what I want from you.” He shifted, nudging her a little more upright. “From both of us. I like the niceties as much as anyone else, and I like to see things done well, but I don’t ever want to be so fine that my folk will be afraid to ask for help. And if someone needs me to pick up an axe or help them move something, I’ll do it, whatever Juste and Edemir say. I want to set a fine table, but I’d rather my guests enjoyed the food than counted its cost. The conversation is more important to me than the cutlery. And the stars know you’ve begun some fascinating discussions at my table, wife.”

She gave him a weak smile, remembering Remin and his knights arguing over how to best obliterate Barnabe Town with trebuchets.

“I’ve thought about it a bit,” he said, relaxing. “What I liked about Segoile, and what I didn’t like, andwhyI didn’t like it. That’s what I mean when I say I don’t want that foolishness here. I don’t see why we need to import a lot of aristocrats from the Empire if you and I want to have a ball this winter. Maybe we should just do it and invite whoever we like.”

“I would like that,” she agreed, though she was mostly just listening to his voice, warm and thoughtful and comforting. This was better than she had ever dared to hope.

“It’s our valley,” he mused. “I don’t mean to do anything here because that’s how the Empire does it. You and I will have to learn their manners, just so we don’t embarrass ourselves when we go to the capital,” he added. “There’s no getting away from it. Noble etiquette is like the Imperial Code, you have to know it just so it can’t be used against you. But we’ll pick and choose the parts we keep in our home.”

“I can learn it,” she said, rousing a little. She would learn the Imperial Code too, if that was what he wanted. She had never imagined that he was thinking about these things, that his vision included even the manners of the civilization he was building. It was exciting and fascinating and none of this was anything like what she had expected him to say.

“I don’t doubt it,” he said, brushing a kiss on top of her head, and he sighed. “I can’t forgive your parents,” he said quietly. “I never will. I don’t really know what to…think about them, and you. Except that nothing they did is your fault. And I love you. You arenota poisoned sweet, don’t ever say that again. Don’t even think it. Juste said once I should write the Emperor and thank him for the peerless jewel he gave me. He’d be kicking himself if he knew how much I love you.”

Her lips trembled, and Ophele pressed them together.

“I love you, too,” she whispered, and his head bent and his lips moved over hers in a slow kiss that said so many things, a tender magic that melted away the last of her fear.

“I will find teachers for you,” he murmured. “If you want to learn to play music, or sing, or write symphonies. You can take up flower arranging or import exotic teas. I don’t expect anything from you beyond what you already do. Except…”

He hesitated.

“…dancing,” he said, the back of his neck reddening. “It would please me if you learned that. I want to dance with you.”

“I will,” she said, after a startled moment. “I will, of course I will. I did like it, that time we danced before. And everything else, I want to think about what you said about manners, but it sounds lovely, and I’ll learn whatever you want me to learn, only…I did mean it. About my blood not being any protection. I know you were…counting on it.”

“I am,” he said, with a flash of his black eyes. “And I don’t doubt you’re right. I never imaginedIwould be called to defend the divinity of the House of Agnephus, but by the stars, I will do it. I will see that the insults to you are paid for. I imagine Juste will have a few things to say about an Emperor that devalues his own sacred blood. But that’s notyourfault and I won’t have you blaming yourself. You’re only in danger in the first place because you’re with me.”

“Because of the Emperor,” she corrected, and saw the quick flicker of triumph in his face. Oh, he was so clever, to make her defend herself by defending him. Because then it must logically follow that she was not at fault if it was the Emperor himself who disregarded the sanctity of her blood. “You are so sneaky.”

“I have to be, to keep up with you.” His thumb slid gently along her jaw. “Feel better?”

“Yes,” she admitted, even though her voice quivered and tears filled her eyes again. But this time it was relief, relief so great that she had to stop and gather herself and breathe into his shirtfront for a moment, to convince herself it was real. “I thought you’d be angry,” she admitted. She still wasn’t entirely over it. “I thought you would…”

“I am angry,” he said, bending to knock his forehead lightly against hers. There was a hard light in his eyes. “But not with you, wife. Be sure of that.”

* * *

“I see,” was all Juste said the next morning, after Remin had laid out the bones of this story. His face was as placid and thoughtful as always. “I suspected something like it. Her Grace has too many gaps in her knowledge, even for a child prisoner.”

They walked together along the road the Third Company had just finished leveling off by the river, with the sun peeking over the distant mountains and a chilly breeze off the water. It seemed a little unfair that Juste was so unperturbed by the revelation when Remin was still trying to wrap his own head around it, and everything it meant.

There was much that he bitterly regretted, but more than anything else, the wordspoisoned sweetkept ringing in his ears. Ophele thought that was what she was, one of her father’s double-edged gifts, and it stung because Reminhadthought that. More than once. But stars, he’d nevertoldher that, had he? No one would be so cruel as to say such a thing to her, would they?

But he and his men had said those words in front of her, and she was smart enough to make the connection on her own. Why hadn’t he seen it? Should he have forced the truth from her sooner? He had known there was something wrong, but he had never imagined this. Her painfulshyness, her gift for invisibility, the way she flinched when spoken to, even the way she was so good at deflecting questions. Every time he remembered how frightened she had been that he might strike her, it made himfurious.

“Risking harm to a child of the starsshouldbe unthinkable,” he told Juste, shoving the anger down for the time being. “I never thought we’d have to remind the citizens of the Empire of that, but there must be some way we can prepare the field. The Emperor acknowledged her before the Court of Nobility. She is an Agnephus. To lay hands on her…I can’t believe anyone woulddothat. It’s a sacrilege.”

“In many ways,” Juste agreed gently. “I would have thought, after the attempt on the Emperor’s life, that no one would dare. But she is right, we should not make that assumption. It’s a pity she doesn’t look more like her father.”

“It isnot,”Remin said, revolted.

“It would underscore her heritage.” Juste waved this away. “I have maintained ties with our singers, at least. I suppose we shall do what I purposed to do months ago. It is nearly winter, after all, and people will be huddled about their fireplaces, searching for new songs to sing.”

Remin had a nasty suspicion he knew what Juste was going to propose.

“You make an unlikely romantic hero,” the other man acknowledged, glancing up at the glowering Duke of Andelin. “But it will serve many purposes. We will tie her to her father, and then tie her to you. She is your bridge back to society, my lord. I will have my singers write songs of the redeeming love between two people who should have been enemies. It will sway their sympathies, and when the time comes for you to make claims against her heritage, they will see that it is for her sake, and not your own.”

“Ugh,” said Remin.

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