The temple was larger than she’d expected. As Karwyn and Amira made their way across the marble stairs, she took in the delicate and ancient architecture. The base was a perfectly shaped circle crowned with a shiny silver dome. An intricate marble design resembling lace surrounded the walls. Large windows encased in silver made the temple look as if it was half up in the air, reaching for Caelo, the creator of Liraen. The God of the Sky. Every blessing had started with him. Even though each kingdom had their own protector, they all worshipped Caelo equally.
Amira was so busy looking at the building that she didn’t notice the court gathered on each side of the stairs. It was only when she heard some fae whispering that she realised that what she had so dreaded was coming true. Everyone was looking at her and making discreet comments.
Her distress only seemed to fuel the rumours. Amira started imperceptibly shaking. She immediately felt Karwyn’s hand tighten around hers, not for comfort but to make sure she wouldn’t embarrass him. She was still grateful for it. Looking through the crowd in search of a familiar face, she was happy to encounter Rhay’s cheery smile. He was waiting close to the entrance and he made sure to bow his head in an exaggerated manner as Amira passed by him. Her dress brushed against his hand and for a few seconds she felt calmer.
The first thing she noticed inside the temple was the carved marble altar in the centre. The writing on its sides was almost unreadable, showing its age. The walls were covered with ravishing paintings of Falea overlooking her kingdom. They were similar to the ones at the palace, only larger in size. The seats were placed all around the altar and there was a balcony with engraved silver railings.
Amira made sure to watch her steps as she followed Karwyn onto the balcony. He took a seat on the wooden throne and ignored her completely. She looked at the rest of the seats. Right next to Karwyn was a high chair upholstered with royal blue velvet. A queen’s chair. But Amira wasn’t the queen yet.
Before she had time to wonder about how presumptuous it would make her to assume this was her seat, Nouis tapped her on her shoulder. “You can sit next to His Majesty,” he whispered in her ear.
Grateful, Amira gave him a warm smile before going to her seat. Around her, the most important members of the court took their seats. Amira recognised some of them in addition to Nouis. One of them especially caught her eyes. His face looked familiar but also foreign and his presence two seats from her made Amira feel uneasy. She was on edge without knowing why. Maybe it was his dark violet irises that looked as if they could absorb you into their void. They were always moving, on the lookout for something or someone.
A chill ran down Amira’s spine. Maybe he was the man she had heard whispers about, Karwyn’s shadow. The rumours she had heard said he was a ruthless spy, everywhere and nowhere at the same time, always there where you least expect him to be.
She shifted her focus to the crowd gathering around the altar downstairs. It seemed like everyone was wearing shades of blue and silver, giving the impression of a moving sea from above. The chatter stopped once the priestess crossed the circle of fae to join the altar. Her dark skin glowed with a silvery shimmer and she was wearing a long teal dress with even longer sleeves.
The priestess raised her hand and everyone, including Karwyn, bowed their heads. Amira quickly followed.
The soft yet self-assured voice of the priestess filled the room. “My dearest people, my king, we are gathered here to celebrate Falea, our Goddess of Fortune. Blessed be her name.”
“Blessed be her name,” repeated the crowd. But Amira said it too late and she felt like everyone could hear her voice echoing through the temple. Maybe she was dreaming, but she thought she saw Karwyn grinning at her mistake. Amira straightened and smiled at Karwyn. She was determined to prove his preconceived notion of her wrong.
After a prayer sung by the crowd, begging Falea to bring them fortune for the year, the priestess moved closer to the altar. She took out a small glass jar filled with a suspicious substance and held it high.
Amira leaned towards Nouis who was sitting next to her. “What’s in the jar?”
“A mixture made out of ground-up turquoise stones and liquid silver. Highly poisonous to everyone who is not fae,” Nouis whispered to her, his eyes still focused on the mesmerising priestess.
“Those who are not worthy of Falea’s blessing cannot consume this sacred potion. Those who are not as powerful and as strong as the fae. Cursed witches who live far from the Goddess’ eyes. Unblessed humans who are not worthy of our Goddess’ praise.” The priestess’ voice grew deeper and more threatening with each word. “May those who are beneath us never cross our path as we have Fortune on our side.”
Amira’s head started to buzz all of a sudden. The waves of pain hit her vigorously, one after the other, not letting her catch her breath. Her sight seemed to narrow.
“I will consume this substance to prove that I have been chosen, that I am truly blessed,” the priestess announced.
The crowd was ecstatic. Amira could feel their violent instinct rising. Even though witches and humans were far from the same, they were both hated by the fae. If a fae was known to be the descendant of a witch, they were hunted for fear that the bloodline was now tainted. Being cursed instead of blessed.
The crowd cheered as the priestess drank the potion, tainting her dark lips with a silver shimmer. Amira’s head suddenly felt as if it was going to explode, the cheers painfully echoing in her mind. Without thinking, she stumbled out of her chair and ran to the closest door.
The sun was high in the sky when she pushed the glass door open. Her escape had led her to a tiny balcony nestled in between the carved walls. Amira took a big breath and almost jumped when she noticed Rhay comfortably lounging on a bench. She realised she had never actually seen him inside the temple.
He smirked before taking a swig out of a highly decorated flask. “Fancy seeing you here, princess. I gather you’re not the religious type.”
“Not really, no,” Amira said as she sat next to him. She couldn’t help but notice the heady scent he was wearing. It was a mix of spices, exotic flowers, and extreme self-confidence.
“What would the king say about that?”
“What would your father say about your presence here?” she immediately replied.
“The secret is that good old Nouis isn’t all that religious himself. Half of the people here aren’t. It’s all pretence and superstitions, even the so-called luck of the Turosian kingdom. If we were that lucky, the Dark King never would have taken over Liraen.” He raised his shoulders. “Everything is about appearances.”
Amira squinted against the sunlight as she detailed Rhay’s sophisticated and over-the-top outfit. His clothes were brighter than the sun. “I thought you cared about appearances.”
“I’m far too unique to always follow the rules. Plus, I can get away with it.”
“I supposeyoucould say that,” she sniped.
Rhay stared at her with wide eyes, feigning offense. “Princess, don’t break my heart. It’s very fragile.”
