Everything in the chapel had been done to excess, from the detailed woodwork on each pew to the towering gold candelabra that ringed the space. Large paintings depicting the All-Seeing Divinities, revered saints, and illustrated stories from scripture covered the walls. The floor was made up of stone markers, showing where saints, clerics, and knights were buried, along with some of the wealthier nobles who could afford to pay for such a holy resting place.
The chapel might be beautiful, but the entire space felt cold to Amryn.
Others didn’t seem to agree, however.
Many were gathered in the chapel, praying in the long pews or listening to the old male cleric who was leading a sermon. Amryn even saw Cora’s parents seated near the front of the room. Their heads were bowed, their hands clasped together. With the bloodstone muting the emotions in the room, Amryn couldn’t pick theirs out specifically. But she didn’t really need to. Their grief was carved into their faces, even as she assumed the Amins prayed desperately for some measure of peace.
Ivan stiffened when he spotted Cora’s parents, but thankfully their heads remained bowed as Hector led the Chosen back up the long aisle.
They were nearly to the heavy doors that would lead them out of the chapel when Amryn spotted High Cleric Lisbeth. She stood in one of the gated alcoves, speaking softly to a younger cleric. When her eyes flicked up, they locked on Amryn. Flickering candlelight played with the shadows on Lisbeth’s face. The coldness that always seemed to emanate from the female cleric was somehow even more chilling than the rest of the room. It was such an intense coldness, it made it easy to latch onto Lisbeth’s emotions. That was the only way Amryn caught the flash of resentment. But there was something else there, too. An emotion that was almost akin to . . .longing?
As quickly as it rose, the feeling was gone. The skin around Lisbeth’s eyes tightened, and Amryn was the first to look away.
Once the heavy doors of the chapel thumped closed behind them, Amryn felt like she could breathe again. Carver’s hand wrapped around hers also helped drive some of the chill away.
“We’ll head to the Sculpture Gallery now,” Hector said. “It holds some of my favorite pieces in the entire palace. Then we’ll conclude our tour in the treasury.”
“Finally,” Jayveh murmured.
Amryn completely agreed. The strange incident with Lisbeth notwithstanding, there was simply too much wealth and lavish décor to truly take in. Even Samuel and Sadia—who had been the most engaged during the tour—seemed to be growing weary. Amryn didn’t think anything could truly impress her at this point.
She was wrong.
The Sculpture Gallery was filled with some of the most breathtaking and emotive art she had ever seen. Some of the pieces depicted historical figures or events, and while those were impressive, it was the sculptures that captured simple moments of humanity that filled her with awe. A little boy in tattered clothes, kneeling before an emaciated dog and offering food from his open palm. A mother, holding an infant in her arms as she placed a kiss against his forehead, her sculpted dress and the infant’s draping blanket both trailing in waves down to her bare feet. A man clutching a woman in a passionate embrace, his lips on her neck, her head thrown back so her long hair cascaded over the muscled arms locked around her body.
Amryn didn’t know how the artists managed to convey such softness and life out of cold, hard stone but she was utterly mesmerized.
“Hello, Chosen,” a weathered voice called out.
Amryn twisted, shock jolting through her as she saw the emperor move toward them with his bodyguards.
A few low gasps filled the room. The emperor had made most of his galleries public so anyone in the palace could wander in and admire his art. There were at least a dozen nobles sharing the space with them, and their excitement and awe at seeing the emperor was clear as they hurried to bow.
The Chosen also bowed, and the emperor smiled, the wrinkles in his face creasing even deeper. “Rise,” he said, lifting one age-spotted hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude upon your tour, but when I saw you in my favorite gallery, I couldn’t resist.” His voice lifted, speaking to the whole room. “Please, don’t let me distract you.”
The dismissal was enough for the room at large to return to their wanderings, though many eyes continued to watch the emperor.
His focus was on the Chosen, his voice a little lower as he said, “I’m sure Hector has been giving you a most thorough tour. I’ve asked a servant to bring water and light refreshments before you continue on.”
They murmured their thanks, and Jayveh moved forward to greet him warmly. The emperor met her with clear affection, taking both her hands in his own.
Samuel approached Hector with a question about one of the sculptures, and Amryn saw Ivan and Elowen drift away from the group.
Carver watched them with narrowed eyes.
Amryn looped her arm around his. “Let’s wander over here,” she said, tugging him in the opposite direction.
He muttered a low curse. “I know what you’re doing.”
Her lips twitched. “I wasn’t trying to be secretive.”
He gave her a look. “He’s too old for her.”
“They’re only a handful of years apart.”
“Exactly,” he huffed.
“You do realizewe’rea handful of years apart.”
