“When I want to direct something, I growl at it or bare my teeth, and that usually suffices.”
Experimentally, I let out a low growl at the patch of shadow. You never know.
The castle attendant waiting for the Mother Priestess practically jumps in the air at the sound, and I shoot her a conciliatory smile.
“Sorry,” I say. “It’s a Bonded thing.”
“Do not tell the poor child lies. You should never attempt that again,” Anassa says with a huff.“You sounded weaker than a pup.”
I’m saved from having to respond as the priestess’s carriage finally rolls up to the inner gates of the castle. It’s flanked by female guards in flowing robes riding handsome dappled horses. Apparently, she’s arriving in ceremony.
The Mother Priestess arrived in Sturmfrost with Siegrid, but she’s been staying at the Sect of the Faceless Goddess in the city. Now, with my coronation just a week away, she’ll move into a guest suite in the castle. Matron Alienor had some religious icons brought in from the city to hang on the walls to welcome her.
All of them creepy, if you ask me. But in fairness, it’s probably hard to represent a faceless entity in a noncreepy way.
Preparing for her arrival makes me antsy. It’s important that I show respect so that we can count the goddess-worshippers among my supporters. My family was never particularly observant, though, and I’m worried about offending her somehow.
Anassa stays seated as the delegation pulls up, out of politeness. Horses often startle when confronted by massive wolves who could eat them as a snack.
“You need not be nervous,” Anassa insists.“These are followers of the old ways, so they should be your most devout supporters, intent on seeing the old line of queens returned.”
I settle my shoulders and step forward, conscious of the heavy crown bearing down on my forehead. It feels too formal for the daytime, but Matron Alienor insisted it was appropriate for greeting someone of this stature.
“Mother Priestess,” I say with hopefully the right level of respect.
“Queen,” she says shortly as she steps down from the carriage. At first, she gives the impression of fragility. She’s short and wizened, with crepey, age-spotted hands and long white hair braided elaborately around her head. She moves slowly, as if afraid to fall.
But then she straightens, and I see the fervent light in her green eyes. It sharpens as it drags up my face and locks onto the crown balanced on my head.
No… this woman is anything but fragile.
She moves toward me with surprising speed, and her gnarled hand reaches for the crown.
I stumble backward, nearly tripping over Anassa, who leaps to her paws and lets out a low warning growl in the priestess’s direction.
The Mother Priestess stills, anger flashing across her face so quickly that I could almost believe I imagined it. Then she raises her hands and says, “My apology, Your Highness. I was astonished to see a Tear.”
“Tear?” I ask, confused.
She points to my crown and says, “May I?”
I look to Anassa for guidance. Something about this just feels…wrong.
“If she tries to run with it, I shall snap her in two. It is safe to let her take a look, if you wish.”
Reaching up, I untangle the heavy golden crown from my hair and pass it gently over to the priestess. She rips it out of my hands greedily, a hint of avarice in her gaze. One finger traces the opal at the center of the crown.
“Thisis a Goddess Tear,” she says reverently. “It was rumored that a Tear was in the crown of old, but I’d thought it had been lost to the Siphons.”
My brow furrows. Does she mean in Astreona? Or did she somehow know that Killian’s family was all Siphons before I revealed that information?
Her eyes land on me again, and I can’t get in any questions. “Tell me, Meryn Sturmfrost. Are you a true believer?” She strokes the crown lovingly.
I flinch internally. At best, I’ve questioned the existence of the Faceless Goddess, denied it at worst. And this prying seems weighty, intentional—like her judgment of me and my rule will depend on my answer.
ButsurelyI shouldn’t lie to the head of the religion?
“I have found comfort in praying to the Faceless Goddess during times of need,” I answer truthfully, hoping it’s enough.
