More folks had begun returning to the Gods these days, desperate for protection. First from the dragon that razed half the village. Now from the bodies unearthed in the forest.
I believed in the Gods, not like mortals did, with chants and temples, but with the thrumming that lived in my bones. And yet this place…it felt futile. Like it been polished and staged.
A shove of bodies jostled me, dragging me back into the press. By the time I broke free, the crowd had vanished into the temple’s gaping doors. All of them gone. Or so I thought.
“No prayer for you today?” Reve asked as he approached. There was an uncomfortable chill beneath his usual warmth.
I pulled my cloak tighter around my throat. “No.”
He stepped in front of me, blocking the sun with his too-tall frame and practiced smile. “It can be intimidating, I know, but it’s meant to be joyous. Come, join us, Verena.” He extended a hand. Fingers stretched, waiting to lead me toward his false prayer.
Not a chance in hel.
I eased back a step. “No, thanks.”
One hand dropped, the other shoving strands of hair behind his ears. He studied me, my folded arms, guarded stance, and dipped his chin. “Next time, then.”
Sure. Ifnext timemeant never.
I offered a closed-lipped smile and turned on my heel. I wasn’t sure why I had lingered at all. Curiosity, maybe. A tiny, traitorous part of me wanting to know if the Gods were listening after all.
“Oh, wait,” Reve’s voice followed, stripped of its cheer and more unsettling now. “You haven’t seen my mother and sister, have you? I was meant to meet them here this morning and I thought I saw you speaking with them earlier by the steps.”
A knot cinched in my chest, panic snapping every breath short. I turned back slowly. His face showed no accusation, only worry, pure and genuine.
“No.” I gave a small shrug, throwing a hand toward the entrance like it meant nothing. “But I’m sure they’re inside waiting for you.”
The words scraped out casual. Like I hadn’t noticed the silence. Like I hadn’t seen the edge of the forest this morning where the bodies lie.
What had been done to them was from something far more vicious than I’d ever allow myself to become.
Reve hesitated, his expression tensing. “Yeah…”
I held his stare and waited, long enough so he wouldn’t dream to question me further.
He sucked in a breath, waving me off with a half smile, and hurried into the temple, the doors slamming shut behind him.
And I ran, like my life depended on it. Because I feared it did.
The palace corridors stood empty, drenched only in sunlight, and I pressed my cheek to the cold marble, letting the tension soak through the Solar Halldoors. Raised voices always carried easily. Though today, the hush of Obrann’s usual grit was unsettling.
Pushing from the wall, I paced the hall instead, counting the flickers of each sconce outside the sealed doors. Four. Five. Six. Wondering if it was Elva stirring the glow.
I folded my arms, turning to the portraits lining the hall where one caught me more than the others, its pastel hues stretching wide across the canvas.
Luamis in its full bloom—sky awash in rose and gold, towers gleaming in the distance.
At the cliff’s edge, a man stood tall, his dark hair sleek in the painted dusk, the angle of his ears cutting the horizon. His eyes were cast down toward the throne below. And there, where gilded metal forged into splendor, was a queen draped in golden light.
Queen Leora.
Elva was perched in her lap, barely more than an infant. It wasn’t just art, but a memory, caught in color, frozen in paint.
“I don’t give a bloody damn!” Obrann’s growl ripped through the thick walls. “Do you hear me?”
I stepped back at once, spine snapping straight into the immovable wall of a guard.
“You get those soldiers to that border before the flowers bloom, or come spring, your heads will be sprouting beside the damned daisies!”
