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.“But how? What was he doing in the Spice Islands? Why was he so far from home?” The bespectacled face of her younger brother swam before her eyes as she had last seen him, an earnest smile warming his customarily grave expression.“Surely it's a mistake…”Ilsevir was gazing out of the window, his back to her.There must be much that he wasn't telling her, she suspected, for fear the news might make her condition worse.She sat up in bed, pulling her lacy shawl closer around her shoulders, and used a tone of voice she had often heard her mother employ.“We are talking about my brother,” she said sternly.“No matter how distressing the details, I need to know.Knowing is better than imagining all manner of horrible things.”He turned around.She saw instantly how confused he was, obviously at a loss as to how to broach the matter contained in the letter, and through the first waves of grief, she realized what she had long known but never admitted to herself before—that she was the stronger of the two.She might be weak in body, but she was Gobain's daughter.At heart, Ilsevir was a conflicted blend of sensitivity and self-regard, and the inner conflict between the two often resulted in his seeming unfeeling, even impervious, to the feelings of others, while internally he agonized over what might be the most appropriate, caring way to respond.“Your mother writes that he was on his way to visit the Commanderie mission in Serindher when a tidal wave struck, devastating the whole area.”“Visiting a mission?” Adèle's eyes filled with tears.“That's so like my little brother,” she said, trying to sound brave.“Poor Maman.First Aubrey, now Enguerrand.I must go to her.”“You'll go nowhere until the doctors have pronounced you fit to travel.” Ilsevir came and sat at her bedside.“It's a long and tiring journey to Francia.And the mountain passes are still treacherous with snow.Write to your mother; she'll understand.Besides…” He looked down, not meeting her gaze.There must be something else that he was not telling her.“How can they be so sure he's dead?” All manner of possibilities passed through her mind.Enguerrand might be lying in some islander's hut, rambling in fever, not even remembering his own name.“He might have been shipwrecked on one of the islands.Have they searched thoroughly?”“This arrived from the First Minister of Francia.” Ilsevir placed a letter in her hands; it was ornately scribed and weighted with the seal of the Francian government.“He is formally requesting our presence in Lutèce as soon as you are well enough to make the journey.It seems that as Enguerrand has left no heirs, the crown passes to you, my dearest—and to me.From now on, we'll have to divide our time equally between Allegonde and Francia.But how will the people of Francia feel about an Allegondan—”“You're not listening to me, Ilsevir!” Adèle seized hold of his hand.“He may not be dead.We must send ships to join the search.”“But of course.” He squeezed her hand in his own.“You're very hot,” he said anxiously.“The doctors warned me not to overburden you.You must rest.”“How can I rest when you've told me such terrible news?” Adèle cried.Sometimes Ilsevir could be so insensitive.“My only brother—”There came a discreet tap at the door.She broke off, remembering that there was no real privacy to be found in the palace, not even when she was ill.“Come in,” she said, trying to compose herself.A lady-in-waiting appeared, eyes demurely lowered, and said to Ilsevir, “If you please, highness, Captain nel Ghislain is here with an urgent dispatch.”“Urgent?” Ilsevir let go of her hand.“Tell him I'll see him in my study straightaway.” He seemed almost relieved to have an excuse to take his leave.Adèle sighed.She had no liking for Girim nel Ghislain or his Rosecoeurs, and his influence over her husband seemed to grow stronger by the day.“Ilsevir,” she said, speaking from the heart, “what is it about Girim nel Ghislain that appeals to you so much?”Ilsevir stopped, halfway to the door and turned around.“He is a man of true vision.” His eyes were shining.“His time in the desert at Ondhessar has made him an inspiration to us all.You should hear him speak about the revelation he experienced when he first entered the shrine of the Eternal Singer.I could bring him to talk to you—”Adèle sank back on her pillows.The prospect was repellent.“No,” she said faintly, turning away from Ilsevir to gaze out at the frozen gardens.She heard him pause a moment, then hurry away, his heels tapping over the highly polished floor [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]