I open my mouth, then close it, realizing I hadn’t stopped to think about the lyrics. As soon as I consider them, panic swims inside me making me feel sick.
“It’s just a simple drinking tune.” Nate catches my eye, then looks away.
We both know that song is not a drinking tune. It’s dangerous. The kind of song that can get you killed. That song is pure treason, and me singing it was bad enough. But how the fuck does he even know that song and why would he be brave or stupid enough to sing it here?
Twenty-One
Brevan
The temple still smells like the incense the queen used to burn. All the candles and sculptures remain where they were placed by her. Caiden sits on the single bench in front of the large painting of the gods.
“I didn’t expect to find you in here.” I sit next to him, and for a moment, we’re children again, listening to the old stories as told by one of the ever-rotating priests summoned by his mother.
He continues staring straight ahead. “I should have it destroyed.”
“We both know you’d likely regret that,” I say.
“You don’t know what she was like,” he says. “Not really.”
“No, I don’t. But I might be the only one who has an idea.”
We’re quiet for a long while and I take in the room. The way there’s always a chill in the air no matter how warm it was in the rest of the estate. The way the skylight casts a column of sunlight on the altar, moving across the mural as the day progresses.
While the gods were no longer worshiped by most people in the empire, the royals and nobles held them in high esteem. Always hoping for that approval in the grand temple. For the magic the king would allow them to access.
Many of them had temples in their homes, more for show than actual piety, but they usually highlighted Loha, the goddess of the moon, and Amate, the goddess of the sun.
Not the queen. Her private temple at the castle showed the Prophecy of Light, but here, in the estate that wasn’t full of courtiers, she highlighted something very different.
Dressed as a queen herself, at the center of the mural, is Mara, the goddess of death. She’s joined by Apophis, the god of chaos, on her right, and Tela, the goddess of war on her left.
The only gods she left out were the moon and sun. The two that everyone else revered above all and lifted up as their primary influences.
It might not have been so curious if there wasn’t a large stained-glass window of the same three gods high in the castle.
Apparently, the queen felt quite the affinity for them.
Finally, Caiden turns and looks at me. “Is there a reason you’re here?”
“Yes, it’s concerning Sabina.”
“My wife.” He turns his attention back to the mural, then holds his hand out. The candles burst to life, flickering and sputtering as if they’ve been burning for hours.
“I know she’s your wife, Caiden.”
“So long as you remember that, we won’t have any problems.” He lowers his hand, then watches the flames.
“The poison she found in her tent, the Elm’s Breath, there’s some growing in the greenhouse.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off the altar. “I’ll have it destroyed.”
“There was a piece of black lace tied around one of the stems,” I add.
He finally looks over at me. “Are you saying whoever is trying to kill Sabina is here?”
“I don’t know.” I wish I had answers for him. For her.
“Find out. I want to know how a plant that’s native to the Shatterlands is growing in my greenhouse. Who planted it? How did it even get here?”
