He has agreed finally, to get us out of here. We will close up the villa and travel to Hellas. Roderigo has an uncle there who would welcome us, and we’ve enough money to start a new life together, one that will be happy. It took days, weeks, of pleading, shouting, and even tears. But finally I have convinced him. Whatever affection he has for her, I am his wife, and we have pledged ourselves to each other. I ask little from him in truth, far less than I have of lovers in the past. But I do ask that he keeps me safe from harm, and I no longer believe he can do so in Serenissima.  Raul will join us later, once he has managed to sell more of the last shipment. It takes longer than usual, with all of the fear in the air.

Venitia is livid of course. She has called me every vile name that she can think of, and once in her anger hurled a vase across the room that had been a wedding gift. My wedding gift, and yet it was on the mantle in her solar. Things will change for me, in Hellas.

Roderigo even says that he will find a way to make the truest of my dreams come true. A son, an heir for Kusheth, a way to redeem myself in  the eyes of my family and secure my position as heir. The dream of someday returning home.

It gets worse with each passing day. They give speeches now in the streets. That we are responsible for our own suffering. That it is our vice and sin which has brought this pain to this Most Serene of cities, guided by Asherat’s hand. Or Yeshuas, or perhaps that of the One God himself. Vice and sin, and when they say the words some eyes look to me. It is not my own deeds they fear, for I have carried myself impeccably since wedding to Roderigo. But I am D’Angeline, and when in the eyes of men pleasure becomes sin, it is we that they look to.

They are closing down the pleasure districts, already people are afraid to go there, if not for the sickness than for the violence. Lucrèce has  gathered the best of her belongings. She writes to me that she will sail next week for Cythera. It is safe there, so far. I wish that I could follow her.

More than that, I wish I could return home. Would they welcome me there, my family? My friends? Do they remember me? Do they ever think of me?

Roderigo tells me not to worry. That things will be fine, that our connections to the Doge through his father will grant us care, and safety. He has promised.

I sit holed up in my rooms while terror reigns downstairs. The villa is in shambles as panic and fear takes over. Some say the Wailing Death is Asherat abandoning her beloved city, and that the canals run thick with it where once they were a sign of her prosperity.

We shut ourselves off, terrified of the streets below. Already piles of my linens have been set to flame, because one maidservant had a coughing fit. She sworethrough tears that she was fine, but Venetia  insisted. And so if she did not have the sickness already, surely she will. There seems to be nowhere safe, even the Little Court. The new Doge’s son fell ill not two days ago, and already they prepare his last rites.

Roderigo says that we should flee the city, and I am in agreement with him. It is Venetia who refuses to go, saying it is safer here in our own home. (The villa is mine and Roderigos, yet she speaks as if she were his wife and not I.) Still, it seems that her word is Law, and my opinion cannot sway him to leave her.

Thoughts turn to home. Is my family well? If I fall to this wretched sickness how long will it take before they know that I am gone? Letters travel by ship so slowly, and now hardly anything makes it in or out. If Father were here he would not let Venetia hold me prisoner. He would not let me remain in my rooms with the stench rising from the water below, waiting to die.

I cannot complain of boredom surely, for I have spent the last few weeks busied well enough. The Lady Briar and I went riding through the meadows, and discussed all manner of things both light and serious. I met a Marquis just returned to the city from Tiberium, who seemed interesting enough even if standoffish. I spent a leisurely afternoon shopping in the marketplace, catching up with old acquaintances and meeting new ones. And yet there seems an emptiness about it all, a lack that threatens to claim my heart if I do not keep moving.

Surely it cannot be that he has tired of me? I tremble even to write the words upon the page, lest they become true. I suppose it was always a fear, that if I truly gave myself to him in earnest, that if he knew the utter claim he had upon the whole of me, it might be that the entire affair ceased to amuse him. Hunter and prey we were called once, and it fit. Yet what does the hunter do when he no longer has to chase. He consumes what he has caught and moves on, and it is there that the metaphor ceases to be pleasing and sets one to worry.

If it is so what can be done? What means can I use to redirect his attention. It is no other affair that has stolen it away, but rather business and work and duty. And so I suppose in that I should be grateful. Yet it is an even harder challenge to turn a man’s eye not from another beauty but from his calling itself. Is it even a wise thing to do? I ask the question knowing I will do it anyway. In that, I have always been selfish.

It looked beautiful. Like the set on a stage before the players come out, with the cloths for the pavilions carefully packed with the horses, along with our trunks. I’ve left almost nothing behind, all my gowns and jewels coming on the journey. Père and I have not had the opportunity to speak much about it, but I know well what the expectation will be. In the City of Elua, we defer to the King and Queen, living our lives at their whims. But Kusheth is our country. And so we prepare to play hosts to the entire court, to show them what is harsh and cruel and beautiful about the land of our home. To show them, in bits and pieces, who we are. And in doing so, to show them who His Majesty is. I know well that this is part of what he wants, what he expects of us. The Shahrizai will not disappoint.

I have arranged for a contract with Evangeline no Balm to last for the duration of the trip. Something soothing to look forward to, and good company as well. It is hard to say what will happen, but I find that it pleases me to speak when I know she is listening. And when I know that she can be trusted. Ariana travels with us as well, and perhaps her company will be enjoyable in different means. She will enjoy Kusheth.

Home! How sweet it sounds, how delicious. No matter what else comes to pass, no matter what the strain of it…I am going home!

Secrets must be protected….

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Days unfold one after the other, and one is like the next for the most part. I went to a debut upon Mont Nuit, at Orchis House. They are deliciously entertaining, and it was a grand night even if once again Lucrèce arrived late and would not tell me where she’d been. I have heard them saying though, that Lord LacNoir departed for Camlach this week. He is set to lead the army, and perhaps Lucrèce worries for him. It would be most unlike her, to vest so much attention in a man even while not immediately in his company. But she seems different sometimes, when it comes to him.

We did not win the Orchis bid, though we could have if we kept trying! I asked him to prove he would be amusing and so he plied us with puns! Puns I fear, are not much to my taste. That and the High Priestess of Naamah seemed to yearn for his attentions far more than we. In truth, unless it is to break in a new Valerian, it does not matter so much to me whether I enjoy an adepts first night of pleasure or their twentieth. Should the man get a reputation among those in the know, perhaps I will let him amuse me another night!

The Duc Azzalle was there, and so I thought it an opportune evening to obey Père’s wish and invite him to dinner again. His wit cuts like a knife, and half the time those he stabs at do not even realize they have been cut. It is indeed enjoyable company, even if a bit competitive. Every Shahrizai knows of the twisted past between our House and House Trevalion, and so the challenge of turning history is one that it interests me to rise to. High stakes.

We went to the market to look at the stall of ribbons, and ventured to take the Lady Briar with us. The ribbons themselves proved disappointing, but the company did not. I find it startling that more of the court ladies do not look to Lucrèce as the measure by which to set their own tastes. The women of her family are known for loving men and fashions above all other things.

And so the Caerdicci clothier stopped by today, to show me a few lengths of fabric he just had in and discuss gowns for the autumn season. I do find his work intriguing, though I would never forsake variety for it. Still, I am entirely engaged by the idea of the crimson silk. I agreed wholeheartedly when he said a diamond would glitter against that dark cloth like a star. All I need do is ask for one.

  Each day it seems unfolds with new opportunity for something, and while many in the city seem fearful or apprehensive, I am not. The King is a Kusheline, his line and blood as filled with Kushiel’s strength and fortitude as my own, or nearly so. And with my father on hand to offer his aide and advice, I have no doubts that all will be well. We are Elua’s children, the chosen of the Angels, and no harm can come to us. And our line most especially has a destiny to fulfill.

 The Duc Azzalle joined us this evening for dinner, and I believe I made Père proud with how flawlessly the evening went. Fine Kusheline dishes, wine perfectly matched to the meal, and everything served at the precise moment when it ought be. I liked the apple course best, but I do tend to enjoy the sweet things most. I could not tell which course the Duc favored, perhaps the mussels.

 The part I liked best though, was that they were content to hold their conversation in my company, discussing the doings of the privy chamber and the future of the country. I will someday be a duchess of my own accord, and though I do not tend to show much interest in them, I know that my duty and my future lie in the realm of politics. And what are politics but people, and what do I know so well as they? The court is no different at times than warring armies, each faction drawing its line and deciding what means of attack they will use for gaining power and favor. I know mine. And just because I am not a coin to be played upon the marriage market does not mean that any should assume that the future will grant me less power, and not more. It would be a foolish assumption.

 I enjoy his company, I will admit. He teases and taunts me like Papa does, but there is something more to it. A game, a challenge. Something to rise to. And another chance to rise always pleases me well.

At times I have wondered on the wisdom of keeping this book. It serves too easily as a distraction to sink into my own thoughts, and can be a dangerous thing to lay them down so plainly upon the page. But I suppose in that way, it serves to organize them as well, to lay them bare before my eyes so that I might see directly the wisdom of the directions that I am walking. Or if indeed, I am aimed in any particular direction at all.

Tonight it is at least, one more thing to do before delving into the lengthy pages of Cruithne. The language slips from my memory easily, and I wrestle with passages that would have come with no effort, a year or two ago. Have I sharpened my mind so keenly for court that it is dulled when left to intellect alone? That will do me little good in the long run, for a Duchess needs to think past the immediate and towards the future, and I will have my inheritance. And so I will prove my worth to Père, even if it is hidden within the pages of this infernal book.

The quest to retrieve it from the library proved at least, somewhat more interesting than the volume itself has managed. The company of the Lady Briar proves always enlightening in one way or another, and I find that it does on the whole amuse me. When Lucrece returns from Kusheth, perhaps she can join us in seeking entertainment now and again. The life of a courtier is never dull, and if it is for the occasional long afternoon in the Salon paying attendance to the Queen, an evening in the Hall of Games or in the city can often make up for it.

The Duc Azzalle has eyes like daggers. He says that he does not like games, but he seems the type that might fancy some types a great deal. I imagine that he would enjoy chess, for example. Me, I have never had the patience for the game, though Père has spent a great deal of time teaching me the rules. It is only that it takes such a long time, and usually, something more interesting has come along before the span of one game is over. But I imagine that if the stakes were high enough, I could be moved to win.

The gown Marcello sent was exquisite. Worth every centime, even if I’m quite certain I spend far more than most do on such indulgences. It is a necessary expense, like Père maintaining his army. It is just that my defenses need be manned in silk instead of steel. For now.

And so tonight two new heads of state were named, sworn before the King and Queen with honeyed vows. Will the Duchess of Namarre despise me, I wonder? And will there be a stronger presence from Azzalle here at court, now that they have a Duc set to speak for their province? I wonder what the Lady Briar thinks. I shall have to ask her, once this business with babies is done and she has time to be proper company again.

I barely saw the King this evening. But when Père and I went to introduce ourselves to the Duc of Azzalle I found that the rest of the hours flew by rather swiftly. I did not expect him to be such amusing company. Or rather, I did not expect him to find me such amusing company, and suppose I imagined that it would be he and Père talking while I smiled and eventually moved along to mingle with the rest of the court. But instead Duc Trevalion and I chatted for hours. I spent much of the party on his arm, and as it dwindled away found myself speaking to him alone. There was no grand weight to the conversation. At least not to most of it.

I hope he does come to see us for dinner. I do miss playing hostess as I did at the Estate in Kusheth. And I wonder now what he is like. Not that I suppose he would tell us over dinner. But perhaps it is the sort of thing one could discern, if given a bit of time.

Until then I will follow my father’s advice, and keep my own counsel.