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His eyes turned molten, the gold swirling even faster than before.

“All right, Sterre. I will not have the Votarists nullify this.”

I quickly nodded, agreeing before he could change his mind, and his lips thinned.

“We cannot allow anyone else to ever know,” he said. “Vincent will keep it quiet. I will speak with Amaria and Shelby as well, though they should understand the stakes as they are both children of Grand Rite unions.”

I offered a small smile and loosened my grip on the tunic.

“But, truly,” Callum said, “I mean no one can know. The ramifications if it were to be brought to light would be catastrophic, nearly as bad as the war the nullifications would have instigated.”

“I understand,” I whispered.

Callum breathed deeply, his nostrils flaring, and then he let his touch skate along my jaw and around the translation spell inked just under my ear.

“I need Phoebe to evaluate your translation spell so that you’re no longer in pain. If she cannot adjust it to also include Nyndrec, she will need to place a new one for you to understand everyone. We can do that here or at Vincent’s home.” His touch paused. “She said it will likely be similarly painful to when it was first laid.”

Lovely.

“Here.”

At least there wouldn’t be any witnesses if I threw up everywhere again.

He stood in one fluid movement, offering his hand. He laced his fingers with mine when I took it, his scent swirling around us again. He grabbed the envelope from the ground, tucking it into the pocket of his pants, and then led me back into the basilica.

CALLUM

Amethyst was noticeably calmer as I guided her through the heart of the basilica, soaking in every new hallway we traversed. When we made it to the hallway just before the foyer, my curiosity over her odd reference in the courtyard finally become enough I couldn’t help but ask.

“Why a serpent?” I asked. “And why an apple?”

She hadn’t brought up the fruit at all when we were journeying.

Her cheeks flushed. Her tongue traced her bottom lip, and then she quietly told a story of creation involving a garden and a woman tempted, seduced by that serpent and convinced to eat what they were forbidden to touch, and the consequences given because of that.

“Is this the same tradition that has the paradoxical god?”

When she nodded, I couldn’t keep back the low growl that rumbled through me. She raised an eyebrow even as goosebumps rose along all of her skin I could see.

“I do not like what that tradition teaches,” I admitted. “Why would women be the root of the hurt that exists? Evil just… is. It’s impossible to have light without darkness. It is no one’s actions that created it, just the balance of the world.”

I thought a bit more.

“Just because there has always been balance, that doesn’t excuse any of us from intentionally acting with cruelty. We must reconcile with Rytar and Oltia our choices and the consequences of them across our lifetime.”

“Who—”

I didn’t wait for the entire question, squeezing her hand.

“The God and Goddess of Death.” I lowered my voice. I hadn’t seen any of the scribes or various acolytes, but that didn’t mean they weren’t within earshot. “You’ll need to be taught our histories so you’re not feeling quite so out of your depth. I’ll discuss it with Shelby especially. Her father is from Destral and had to learn much of our culture here when he participated in the Rite.”

She was quiet as I palmed the door that led into the foyer.

“I can’t read your language,” she pointed out.

With a nod, I conceded, “I suppose that will be the first thing we work on.”

I started to open the door, but her single word question stopped me.