Petra had no proof that Antonin killed Maximilian with his own hands, but her intuition screamed when he climbed the steps, his movements lithe and graceful for a man approaching his elder years, and extended his arms to her.
You took the only family I had left,a wounded thing in her moaned, too hurt to carry the fire of fury.You took everything from me.
But she was more than that wounded creature. She was more than a starving child. She was more than a witch with no name.
She was a woman with steel in her spine and a demon on her side. Petra would see this to the end, no matter what that was.
So she summoned her practiced smile, just as false and shining as Antonin’s, and slowly descended two steps to meet him. A hug was too much to bear, but she was able to smoothly move into clasping his hands. They burned with sickly heat against her own — the unnatural meeting of two luminists with Glory’s light in their souls.
“Welcome back, your eminence,” she murmured, leaning in to feather a kiss to both bearded cheeks.
Antonin’s fingers curled around hers, holding tight, as he reciprocated the gesture. The only difference was thathislips actually touched her skin. “It’s a pleasure to see you again so soon,” he replied, voice as smooth and warm as a sunbaked river stone. “I regretted how short my trip was last time, so I’m looking forward to savoring your company, my dear.”
Petra swallowed the bitter tang of bile as they pulled back, hands still clasped. “You’re a busy man. I’m honored to get even a moment of your time, let alone this much.”
“Ah, but who could resist the siren’s call of High Priestess Zaskodna?” He cast his gaze over her shoulder, as if he wished to commiserate with her staff over how irresistible she was. “And in such a beautiful city, no less. I’m afraid it was too much for even my schedule to compete with.”
Desperate to get his hands off her, Petra stepped back and to the side, as if to show off her pale-faced staff to the predator at their doorstep. “You didn’t get the chance to meet them properly last time, so I’d love to introduce St. Emaine’s staff to you, your eminence.”
Forced to release her, Antonin instead held his hands out, palms forward, to her staff as she rattled off names and titleshe almost certainly already knew. When she was finished, he greeted them with a fatherly smile. “I look forward to speaking with you all during my stay. May Glory’s light shine on you for welcoming me and my entourage so warmly.”
Going by the way several staff members flinched, Petra wasn’t the only one who heard the threat woven into the polite response.
Before an awkward silence could settle in, Antonin clapped his hands together and turned his smile back on Petra. “Now, my dear, how about a tour?”
“Would you not like to get settled first? I’m sure you and your entourage could use a moment to decompress from so much traveling.” She glanced over his shoulder under the pretense of concern for his entourage, but really she was counting the number of guards that had climbed out of the vehicles. It was hard work keeping her expression smooth when she realized he’d brought more than she anticipated.
All of them were blank-faced, their mouths set in neutral lines and their eyes a little… off. Just looking at them made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
One’s missing.Petra did another quick count, but the somber face of Antonin’s assistant didn’t appear in the rows of red-clad guards.
“Ah, that’s very kind of you,” Antonin replied. “I’m used to all the travel, but my entourage will get settled while you guide me on a tour. I’m sure they’d appreciate a hearty meal, too.”
“Of course. That shouldn’t be a problem.” She glanced at Robert, who was already turning to scurry across the courtyard and, she had no doubt, the kitchens.
Gods bless that man.Petra looked back at Antonin. “Is your assistant coming?”
Stepping closer, he hovered a hand over the small of her back. Unnatural warmth radiated between the skin of his palmand her spine. “Nicolas is on sabbatical,” he answered as he guided her up the steps and into the womb-like darkness of the cathedral.
Keenly aware thatsabbaticalcould be code for anything, including rotting somewhere in an abandoned building or chained in a top secret Temple dungeon, Petra chose the mildest possible response. “I see. I hope he’s well?”
Antonin tossed her another charming smile. “I’m sure he is. Speaking of sabbaticals— I heard you’re planning one for yourself quite soon.”
Their steps were soft on the marble floor of the cathedral, but to her the beat sounded like a funeral march. “I am,” she answered evenly, her mind racing with all the different ways he could interpret her decision. His expression gave nothing away. Antonin’s mask was as good as hers.
Choosing her words with the utmost care, she explained, “I’ve been enormously privileged to be given this seat by the High Gloriae and try to earn it every day, but I can’t give Glory’s worshippers the guidance they deserve if my well is empty.”
“You haven’t missed a service in three years,” he pointed out. “Most High Priests do one or two a week. I’m quite sure you’ve more than earned a month or two off, my dear. I doubt it will put a dent in your shining reputation amongst the EVP’s populace.”
Violently uncomfortable with his smooth praise, Petra demurred, “I am lucky to serve so many good people, your eminence.”
“Aren’t we all?” Rather than let her guide him as he claimed to want, the Protector steered her toward the high altar. She had to work very hard to not glance in the direction of the sanctuary.
His hand settled more firmly on the base of her spine, just above the divots of her tailbone. “Though I heard you had a mishap recently. Something about a fire after a service?”
Petra’s mouth went painfully dry.He doesn’t know about Silas. He doesn’t.“An accident. An over-eager worshipper bumped into one of the votive stands and our runner unfortunately paid the price. We’ve temporarily fixed the issue with a few discreet sandbags, so hopefully there won’t be incidents like it in the future.”
She could just see Silas’s smug face when she said that. His imagined voice, low and taunting, drifted through her mind.“It’s cute that you think that’ll stop me.”
