My Gram was turning grey from all the headaches the dispute brought her. “It is never smart to antagonise the Temples,” I remember her repeating it over and over again, like her personal mantra. Grandpa used to massage her head after the meetings.
Power may be abused, but the Gods are still handling blessings today. The celebration happens only once a year,during the week of the Summer Solstice. Blessings are being laid upon unions, truces, and agreements, sealing them in good faith. No better time for a little shopping than right now.
My eyes sparkle. The excitement nudges me to make a list of stuff I want to acquire. I fall into the trap while being perfectly aware of it. I don’t know if it makes me smarter or plain stupid.
I need new armour, leather gloves, and some kind of dagger; I lost the last one at a Curse Dice betting shops. That game is savage and cost me a fortune, especially since my luck ran dry long ago.
I have no idea who invented it, but some whisper that Sindral is infiltrating Rhodria with it, to destroy us. Bullshit, of course. Ghouls don’t care about anything except themselves and the next sweet they can cram down their throats.
The crowd parts for me like I was ill. I’ll never get used to being a pariah, even if the hostility makes it easier to navigate the bustling streets.
I take a deep breath, pushing this trail of thoughts where they belong, sealed into my mental box. I want to celebrate and enjoy life, but I know I don’t deserve it. Sometimes I think the guilt is punishment enough, then I want to be beaten for daring to think that.
I stumble on the uneven ground.
Stop thinking, you oaf!
I force myself to get moving and focus on the list, even though my excitement has been dulled by guilt.
With a hand on my satchel, warding off any pickpockets, I weave through the alley. Two males stand by the curb with their children, voices raised as they argue the price of a Convenient Mating. A few harsh words, a handshake, and it’s done—their offspring traded off like goods for the ceremony.
Some call the custom barbaric, but it is not that simple.
Fae did not originally come in pairs, not the way Vikans do.The Third High Queen, ever the romantic, asked Gorok to divide Fae souls into pieces. And because it was Gorok’s intervention, anyone can visit a temple and learn who their match is.
The Fifth Queen was betrayed by her mate and demanded a special knot added after the ceremony—one that makes sex outside the mating bond bring no satisfaction, while sex within the pair, triad, or whatever number becomes utterly mind-blowing.
Another queen decided the Fae were becoming too meek and set a limit: you must reach two hundred fifty before you are allowed to discover your mate, so that in your youth, you are free to experiment.
But some cannot wait that long. They want the coin that comes with a union, the dowry that can change a family’s fortunes.
I once tried to cheat the system to find out who my mate was.
I’m only one hundred and two, after all.. It didn’t end well. My Grams sprinkled iron into my food for months, punishing me for the shame I’d brought her. It was a hard time.
I push the memory of that pain aside and send a silent prayer for Gorok to bless the union I’ve just witnessed with love. Especially now, in these uncertain times, when his descendant has abdicated and openly defied him. I feel Gorok’s displeasure like a blade pressed against me, sharp and unrelenting.
Aidon appears at my side, dressed in a dark, well-fitted doublet. “You are very self-absorbed, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?” I ask carefully, weaving through the market street towards the charm shop I’m sure is somewhere nearby.
“Let’s just say it’s obvious,” he answers. “I have a feeling that if a star-stone fell two oceans away, you’d still find a way to blame yourself for it.”
I level my eyes at him, already irritated, and his infuriating smirk only doubles the annoyance.
I stop walking. “You don’t know me. Maybe you have access to my thoughts, to my utter despair. But you don’t know shit about me!” My voice rises, sharp enough to draw a few curious glances from passers-by.
Fae slow in their steps, pretending to browse stalls while openly listening.
“I know why you aren’t in the Capital,” Aidon says aloud, levelling a judgmental glare at me.
I freeze, though I lift my chin, bracing for the blow even as my heart threatens to escape my ribcage. Does he have to do this here, on a crowded street full of busybodies eager for scandal?
“Why?” I ask sweetly, almost succeeding in masking the tremor in my voice. I am upset, but my power doesn’t threaten to annihilate the world.
Weird.
“Because you are a coward,” he delivers the line so matter-of-factly, one could think he was reciting from the Gorok scripture.
