She came to the Temple of Naamah to find me on the day the curse was lifted. There had been a public proclamation in the Hall of Audience earlier that afternoon. I'd gone with the rest of my Order, standing in the throng while she stood on the dais beside her Prince, telling the story. I did not linger afterward, unable to face the blasphemy. She had her Imriel. Their love held true, a spark that I had been the first to see and encourage, a conflagration for which her mother had nearly disowned her. It burned bright between them, like a beacon for those who were lost at sea. He was her safe harbor now.

I returned to my quarters and wept. I daresay many of us did, that day. I let the tears flow, hoping that it would wash away a measure of guilt and horror. She had been wed against her will, ensorceled. The entire City had believed it a love-match until that morning. The last time we spoke, I'd offered her condolences on the death of her despicable husband. I remembered the promise I had made her, and could not find a way to forgive myself. I will always be there when you need me.

I missed dinner. Nobody disturbed me. It would have been a mercy to fall into sleep, but even after I cried myself out, I couldn't. And so I lay awake, listening to the chirp and hum of insects outside my window as the sky darkened with the brilliant hues of sunset.

A tentative knock at my door. I couldn't bring myself to rise from the bed. "Yes?"

"Sister Amarante?" It was Juliette. "I have a plate for you."

"Let yourself in." I was her mentor. She had the keys to my room. That was probably why Raphael had sent her. He must be worrying about me. Normally, if one of us missed a meal, it was met with knowing smiles and nods, assumed to be Naamah's business. I made the effort of sitting up as the sprightly young acolyte let herself in, setting a tray neat-handedly upon my desk. She sat down next to me on the bed and pushed a tendril of hair behind my ear. "Brother Raphael is worried about you."

"I know."

She regarded me with all the somberness of her sixteen years, "You're not hungry, are you?"

I summoned a broken smile. "Not really."

She nodded. "I'll leave this here. Do you want me to light a candle?"

"No, thank you, my dear. I think I will sleep soon."

She nodded again. "I'll let the others know not to disturb you. You can bring the tray down to the kitchen tomorrow morning." She kissed me and left. Her unadorned kindness brought on fresh tears. I surrendered myself to the torrent of sobs, choking through them to drop into a dreamless sleep.

The sound of my door being opened jolted me awake. "Juliette?"

"Amarante." Sidonie walked into my room.

She stood at the foot of the bed, gazing down at me, the Dauphine and regent pro tempore of Terre d'Ange. I sat up and drew my knees in so she could sit down on my bed where Juliette had sat. The sun had set, but the moon had not yet risen. A thousand apologies lodged in my throat.

"Where's Imriel?"

"Asleep." She took my hand without looking down and held it. "Lelahiah says he's not likely to wake until tomorrow at least, and that it's best to just let him sleep."

I cleared my throat, "That's good."

"He hasn't slept for days." Her dark eyes searched mine, filled with concern, as if she knew how bad my sleep was too. "I saw you earlier, in the crowd."

I looked away.

"Amarante," she said, stroking the back of my hand, "It wasn't your fault."

"I know, but I let it happen. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me."

"Yes, you were," she said, and the fierceness in her voice turned my head. "Amarante, if it weren't for you, if you hadn't offered to call down Naamah's curse upon him should he prove false, I would never have found it in my heart to trust Melisande Shahrizai's son. And if Imriel and I had never fallen in love, who would have saved me from a life as a political pawn in Carthage?" She held my hand tightly in both of hers, "Yes, there was a curse that tore the memory of it out of our heads. But the truth was there in my heart when he came to find me, and I have you to thank for it."

I found myself on the verge of tears again. "Sidonie..."

She folded me into her arms. "Hush. Let me do something for you, for once."

She was my liege and the first of my mentees; I had been her first lover and her confidante. For years we had lived in adjoining rooms at the Palace. Although I had never envisioned myself a lady-in-waiting, I loved my responsible young mistress more than I could imagine, and was never sorry that I had agreed to serve as her royal companion. I felt my body relaxing in her arms, into the familiarity of the scent of her hair. It felt so good to be held by her, I wished we could stretch this moment into eternity. "Are you..."

She picked up the thread of my thoughts with long-practiced ease. "...needed at the Palace? Not until tomorrow morning."

I closed my eyes and felt the tears fall.