Page 78 of The Truth-Teller's Bargain

These ties are numerous, renewable, and well-documented.

The title of Chosen is different. A single mortal at any time may bear a god’s full mandate, and succession typically occurs every few generations.

Records within this archive note a singular anomaly: Aevensor, who has named only one Chosen in all extant history.”

—EXCERPT FROM THE TOMB OF THE EXALTED, RECORD ANNEX

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Hunter’s Moon, Day 30.

Alethea glanced at her cup, blinking as the taste washed over her. It was sweet and tart, almost fruity—but heavy like honey. It started as a subtle warmth; a gentle caress that spread from her stomach to her fingertips, easing the knots of tension that plagued her. The cacophony of the Revel around her began to blur into a harmonious melody, the laughter and the music becoming a euphoric symphony. The world took on an otherworldly hue, vibrant and enchanting. Colors seemed to intensify, lights shimmered more brilliantly, and the air felt electrified with a tangible sense of joy.

Alethea’s senses sharpened, allowing her to perceive every nuance of the revelry with a newfound clarity.

“Are you all right?” Nakir asked again, and the waterfall behind her eardrums slowly faded away. She even managed a smile. Her worries dissolved into the ether, replaced by an unshakeable sense of contentment and a profound appreciation for the present moment.

She blinked up at Nakir: the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes upon. The way she saw him now echoed that unforgettable evening when their destinies had collided in the forest, altering the courses of both their lives forever.

As Alethea stared at him, the world around them seemed to fall away, leaving only Nakir and the ethereal atmosphere. She studied the sharp angles of his face, his perfect dark pink lips, the single lock of raven hair that fell over his brow. Everything about him was deliberate and graceful, as though he were a creature born of the moonlit night, with all the elegance of a shadow and the poise of a prince—no, a king.

Alethea found herself thinking whoever he chose as his queen would be the luckiest woman alive.

Then she remembered his question.

“Yes. Yes, I am.” She stepped forward, her hand coming up to touch his face. His skin was warm beneath her fingertips, and she shuddered. “Why did you do that?”

Nakir closed the distance between them, and a small thrill ran through her as she felt his touch on her lower back. “He had a weapon, so I disabled him.”

A simple answer for a simple question, yet she sensed the weight behind his words; the burden of responsibility he carried.

“You broke his arm.” Even now, the violence troubled her, stirring a deep discomfort in the pit of her stomach—heightened by the ambrosia.

How was she ever going to last in awar?

Nakir’s stare nearly paralyzed her. “He deserved it,” he said, so full of conviction it sent another shiver down her spine.

She allowed her hands to roam up his arms and his shoulders, and his grip on her lower back tightened. Her quest for dessert was now nothing but a distant memory.

“Did he?” she asked.

“For putting his hands on you?” Nakir growled.

Alethea wondered if she should be afraid, but she wasn’t.

“No... No. I would rather have cut his hands off so he could never offend you with them again.”

His words were uttered with a chilling certainty that sent a sharp shudder down her spine. Her skin raised into gooseflesh at the way his breath warmed her neck. She thought of last night, the way his body had pressed against hers, and her eyelids fluttered closed.

“How are you feeling?” Nakir asked, drawing circles and figure-eights up and down her spine in a way that made her melt. “Is this welcome?”

“It’swonderful,” Alethea told him, eyes still closed as she leaned into his touch, losing herself.

“It will last for a few hours,” he explained, but the words felt faraway. “Stay close to me and Emi tonight. Do you hear me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Know that if anyone else touches you without your explicit consent, they will meet a worse fate than Reingard Delaney. Do you understand?”