Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
MORGANA
T he evening was full of training. I chased after the feeling of wielding this magic, of tapping into this energy that had inexplicably existed within my soul all these years. The more time I had to dwell on the simple fact that I was no different than the arcanists I envied as a Mortuary Arbiter, the more questions I asked myself. How many incidents in my growing years had actually been due to this darkness swirling inside of me and not because of the cult I was forced to endure? The ceremonies, the sacrificial omens they claimed would be our undoing—our rescue. I never believed it, even as a young, impressionable child.
Very early on, I found solace in the cynicism that kept me grounded. Galen had a heavy hand in that. Most would see it as a fault, but I saw it as the reason we made it out. Now, it was my defense mechanism.
Aster and I had largely avoided what transpired in my bedroom. He waited for me to freshen up, and then we sat in the observatory cart to practice wielding magic until my fingers were numb. Only then did he excuse himself and Erynna took his place. She’d brought wine, books, and something to take notes on. I knew how good two glasses of wine would do to ease my nerves, but I didn’t know how well it would serve me in remembering all of this history.
I knew about the war that separated Avendatis and Verdantis. I knew about the treaties that united every nation within the Veridian Union, bound by a common goal of stopping Vespera’s pursuit of our lands in its tracks, but my knowledge ended there. I did not know kings, queens, or their scandals. I cared little about etiquette, and if I had to pretend that hand-holding was the equivalent to bedding a leper who also had the plague, I’d probably perish. Willingly. By means of jumping off a cliff into the rocky, rough waters of Verdantis’ shores so the sharks or Vespera could finish me off.
But, fortunately, Erynna seemed to be masterful with the politics of it all. In a single hour, I’d learned about King Lucif and his two wives—one estranged, the other fiercely loyal. About the patriarchy that occupied their kingdom nations, churches, and homes. More than anything, though, I was told how to act in front of the king and his court.
Erynna had a way of making the dry history sound intriguing, her voice laced with sarcasm that kept me from drifting off into a stupor. As she flipped through the pages of the book, I sipped on the wine, letting its warmth seep into my veins and loosen the tension that had coiled within me.
“So, when in front of King Lucif, remember to keep your head bowed just enough to show respect but not too much as to be seen as subservient. He values intelligence and wit, so do not be afraid to engage in conversation, but always mind your words,” Erynna advised, her eyes scanning the text before her.
“Something tells me the queen will be of little concern during our efforts?”
She grinned. “She will be positively submissive to her king. When Lucif tells her to jump, she won’t even ask how high. She will simply do it until he makes this disgusting grunt of approval.”
I reached for the bottle to fill my third glass. Erynna followed suit, and I leaned back into my chair. The setting sun was casting orange and yellow rays across her dark hair, lightening her irises as she lifted her focus to me. I swished the wine around my tongue before swallowing. “And my status. I am not of the Sinclair bloodline. Who am I this week? Why would the crown prince and princess of Verdantis bring a random woman with them?”
Erynna raised a brow. “Well, we have one more full day of journey to survive. If we behave and pass into Avendatis’ borders without killing one another, then you will get a royal makeover. Who you are, however, is positively up to you.” She leaned forward, her eyes flashing with mischief. “So, who are you? You cannot be a Kyllingham, that’s far too risky.”
My mind whirred with all of the possibilities. I could be a duchess from Verdantis’ countryside, or a cousin so distant she would be easily forgotten in the madness of court politics. But my mind wandered to a far more believable reality—one I’d already survived once. One that Aster would relate to all the more.
I lowered my focus to the ground, heat brushing across my cheeks for no good, logical reason. I still smiled, if only subtly, and said, “When I met Aster, I gave him a false name. We pretended to have been courting each other during a ball, and I stormed off after some fabricated argument. Lady Evelyn Tillington is the name I gave him, born of an Azulian lord and Iskandian mother.”
“The scandal. So, tell me. How did Aster mend the broken bridge without sacrificing your reputation?” Erynna asked, the sparkle in her eyes matching the mischief in her tone. “A lady’s reputation is everything.”
I curled a leg under me so I could lean on the armrest of the loveseat. I took another sip of wine, relishing the sweet taste on my lips before answering Erynna. “Aster spun a tale of a misunderstanding, claiming that my fiery temperament had led to the argument. A man like King Lucif would relate to the frustrations of a fiery woman, I would imagine. Aster, however, painted me as a passionate woman who valued her independence and was not afraid to speak her mind.”
Erynna chuckled, the sound light and musical in the quiet of the observatory cart. “Ah, a fiery spirit. Lady Evelyn Tillington, a woman of noble birth with a touch of scandal to her name, will certainly capture their attention.”
The sun dipped below the horizon as Erynna closed the book before her with a satisfied smile. “I believe you are ready for what lies ahead, Lady Tillington . The morning after tomorrow, we will arrive in Avendatis. We must rest. Eat, drink, do whatever it is that keeps the shadows at bay. Tomorrow we will finalize the specifics of our roles at court, and you will be as ready as a three-day journey permits.”
Erynna collected her notes, the shadows dancing across her skin as if they yearned to be there. There was this presence to her that allured me. I envied it, actually. I dragged the tip of my fingernail across the smooth wine glass and cleared my throat to capture her attention before she stood. “You told me the University was dangerous. Why?”
While she was normally unreadable, her expression faltered with this almost vulnerable frown. She opened her mouth a few times before finding her words. “You’ve just asked me something I’ve seldom told my closest friends.”
“You offered me friendship not long ago.”
Erynna winced, the essence of remorse trembling across her face. “Have you ever been abused by those who claim to respect you, Morgana?”
My face paled, and I nodded slowly.
Erynna frowned. She twisted her focus away and mindlessly played with the books. “We share that in common then. My parents were unkind, and unfortunately that theme followed me to the University. The professors and staff treated Aster and Atlas like they were these gods in training. The future of tomorrow.” She scoffed, opening the leatherbound book and rubbing a fingertip down the page. “I was a vixen. I didn’t kiss a boy until I was seventeen, at the latest, and I tried to keep it from them. They found out though. They found it out and unleashed so much hellfire upon me that I wanted to die.”
My throat had turned dry. “What did they do to you?”
“It started with solitude,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t even permitted to see my brother. For a whole year, I was to remain alone. Then, as the trials grew nearer, they reminded me what my shadows could do if neglected. By the time it was time for me to take my tests, they used every immoral thing I’d done against me, to weaken me. I still prevailed, but I almost died.”
I stood slowly and approached her, and though her face was still this stone-cold countenance, I saw agony beneath the cracks. “I am sorry for what they’d done to you.”
Erynna turned to me. She didn’t smile at my sympathy, but something in her eyes glittered. “They will do the same to you, Morgana. Do not give them reason to break you.”
I watched in silence as she excused herself and disappeared into the next train cart over. I chewed on the words as I sipped my wine, losing myself.
I knew how dangerous heretics and radicals could be. And while Erynna and Aster would never refer to the University as such a thing, that was what they were. There was no other group of people that would inflict such pain under the name of victory.
I’d barely survived those types of people once.
If I hadn’t been three drinks in, I would have taken Erynna’s words at face value. Perhaps I would come the morning, but now, I wanted to get lost in the numbness of it all.