“I am, too, Nik.” She beamed at him. Deep down, she felt the thrill of victory. A subtle beat of success thatfinallyshe was making progress toward her goal.
But as he escorted her to the door, as he briefly rested his hand on her arm when she said goodbye, as she met Sebastian’s hard, grim stare waiting for her in the hall, she couldn’t ignore the slimy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.
Chapter 43
Armies travelled slowly.
They made camp along the road, utilizing a vast open space between the spreads of forests spotting the Onitan countryside. Smoke rose from a farmer’s cottage, but Anniliese knew its owner was no longer its occupant.
She hadn’t seen it, but she’d certainly heard it. The farmer and his wife were ordered to kneel before their true emperor and vacate the premises or suffer the consequences of loyalty to Qhohena’s queen.
Anniliese still felt the heat of the dragonfire that burst across the field when they had chosen the latter.
She sat now with the other priestesses, all of them huddled together in the grass. Not for warmth; not at all.
They were sheep surrounded by an army of wolves. Soldiers were often bored and lonely while marching; that put a group of women in a dangerous place. Ksee did nothing to stop them, so the priestesses used the only defense they had.
The defense of community. It was a meager one, and it hadn’t stopped two girls from being dragged away already this evening, but when they were returned, they at least had each other to wipe away the blood and tears.
Anniliese wasn’t sure if they would do the same for her, but thankfully she was never chosen. Burning a lord alive, she supposed, had earned her at least some sort of a reputation.
Not one she’d ever wanted, but she could hardly question the small blessing at this moment.
Boots crunched in the dried grass. The girl beside her stiffened. Anniliese tensed as well, wondering if she would have it in her to pull out those cursed flames one last time, just to keep another monster from taking a bite?—
All her fight died when her eyes met those of Lord Hareth, fine clothing and decorative sword out of place in the camp.
Her father.
He halted a few paces from her, gaze unreadable. “May I have a moment to speak with my daughter?” he asked Ksee. “In private?”
Ksee stared at him down the bridge of her nose, a look she’d perfected even to those taller than her. “She is not youranythinganymore, Lord Hareth. She belongs to Kol.”
A muscle tightened in her father’s jaw. “Then may I have a moment in private with Priestess Anniliese?”
Ksee sniffed. “Fine. But be quick. There are prayers and offerings to be made.” She snapped her fingers at Anniliese. “Up, girl.”
Anniliese rose slowly, feeling the wide eyes of the other priestesses on her. Her father’s gaze scanned her as she faced him, and she knew very well what he saw.
The tattered, dirty robes. The dirt-smeared skin. The limp, loose hair falling around her face and shoulders.
So far removed from the lady she’d once been. From the daughter he’d once had.
He tentatively extended a hand. “I won’t keep you long,” he said softly, and she swore there was some sort of painedgentleness in his tone. She placed her hand in his and let him lead her away from the huddled circle of priestesses.
They stopped when the voices of the camp faded to quiet murmurs, when the lights from flickeringallumelamps hanging on wagons and tents barely cast shadows around their feet. Anniliese faced her father.
Once, she might’ve been afraid to meet his stare so directly. Not anymore.
Not when she knew he was as weak and spineless as the rest of them.
Lord Hareth opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.
Anniliese shifted in her uncomfortable slippers, growing tired of waiting. “Well?” she asked. “You wanted to talk?”
Her father swallowed, and something had her withdrawing at the sudden hesitancy that flashed through him. “I-I wanted to apologize.”
Anniliese blinked. “What?”
