10. Mercy
10
MERCY
M y heels echo through the long empty halls of Mount Pravitia, the high arches and stained glass windows filtering the sun’s rays in hues of blue, yellow, and red. The building sits at the very center of the city, a colossal gothic feat with twin spires piercing the sky as if yearning to be anywhere but here.
I know the feeling intimately.
Especially after last night and Constantine’s witless dinner party.
I’m itching to drive my dagger deep into Constantine’s gut for spiking the drinks. Acting like we were still a gaggle of unruly teenagers, instead of us being in our late twenties and thirties.
Not like that psychopathic doll would be bothered by the pain anyway.
Then came the bizarre ending to my night—or lack thereof.
Frustration prickles under my skin recalling how I was left on the cusp of an orgasm. I haven’t used Manor’s lesser-known services in over a year, but I never did think I’d experience someone leaving mid-way through.
I believe it was a man by the feel of his rough touch and thick fingers.
A man who, before leaving me high and dry made me feel …
I can’t say that sex has ever felt that exceptional before.
His tongue on my clit. His groans against my thighs. Fingers digging into my skin.
I was insatiable. Spellbound.
My stomach heats with the memories, and I quickly give my head a quick shake to snap myself out of it. Ridiculous. The drugs were certainly the cause for the heightened emotions.
When I enter the boardroom where the Conclave is taking place, I glance around the room and realize that I’m early.
Aleksandr’s mother, Alina Vorovsky—the current ruler of Pravitia—stands at the head of the long quartz table, her son and husband sitting on either side of her.
Her severe expression does nothing to dull her beauty, with her piercing emerald eyes and pin-straight hair the color of sand. She stands stoic in her wine-red dress lined with fur, shoulders straight and rigid while wearing priceless heirlooms around her neck as everyday accessories.
Belladonna is already seated at the opposite end of the table, copper hair pulled up in a high ponytail, the dark circles she tried and failed to hide with makeup prove that I’m not the only one feeling ghastly this morning.
The silence in the room is as heavy as the upcoming parley.
My friend’s glare and icy body language explain the pointed silence. She blames the death of both of her parents on the Vorovsky family, particularly the death of her father when she was ten years old.
Being the only other orphan amongst the six heirs, I silently take a seat beside Belladonna and wait for the others to arrive with their respective parents.
Gemini appears shortly after, accompanied by his mother. By the looks of him, I’d guess he hasn’t slept a wink but still acts aggravatingly chipper, blowing me a kiss before sitting closest to Aleksandr.
Constantine is next to arrive in a burst of pink, as always, her father stalking into the boardroom first, acting like an even more impressive version of Albert.
“Morning everyone!” she sing-songs but no one responds. Ignoring the tension in the air, she sends a small wave to Aleksandr who quirks a smile before sitting to my right, opposite the Foleys.
The minutes crawl by slowly while we wait for the Vainglorys.
Alina’s serious demeanor has time to crack ever so slightly. She’s sighing, pressing her nude-painted lips together and looking at her watch when I pick up on footsteps approaching.
The Vainglorys arrive as a trio, Wolfgang’s parents just as peacockish as their infuriating progeny. I expect Wolfgang to send me a seething glare as usual, but he avoids my gaze entirely. Taking the final available seats, the attention finally returns to Alina.
“Right,” she says in an even tone, finally sitting down at the table. “As I’m sure we are all aware: Today marks the ending of the Vorovsky rule over the city of Pravitia.” Her green gaze skates pointedly around the room. “As tradition dictates, during the one-week window when none of the families are officially in power, the Feast of Fools will take place on the eve of the Lottery. And all heirs are not only expected to attend —” She raises a finger in the air to drive in her point. “— but oversee the planning as a show of a united front for the people of Pravitia.”
I scoff under my breath, and Gemini shoots me an amused look. His mother elbows him in the ribs and he lets out a theatrical wheeze. Constantine giggles loudly, her father impatiently shushing her. I ignore all of it, my attention narrowed on Alina who’s glaring at me from across the table.
“Objections, Crèvecoeur?” she says slowly, her jaw clenched.
I hold her stare, the tension between us, as well as all the families, so palpable it stabs at my lungs with every breath I take. I drum my nails on the table to antagonize her further before waving my hand toward her. “By all means, Alina, please continue.”
I can feel Belladonna trying to conceal her laughter beside me, Alina’s eyes darting to my left before landing back on me.
“You know,” she states dryly, clasping her hands together as she leans forward. “Whatever little alliances you children think you have, just know the Lottery doesn’t care about history.” Her pause is so dramatic she could very well be a Vainglory. “Our gods do not care for petty loyalty amongst the different families. This ,” she hisses with a wave of the hand around the table. “These insignificant feuds and long-standing grudges mean nothing to them.” Belladonna is the one to scoff indignantly this time but Alina continues, “Worship is all that matters to them. Worship and sacrifice .”
A few of the parents in the room shift in their seats as if recalling some particularly uncomfortable memories while Alina stands up, and places a firm hand on Aleksandr’s shoulder.
“I’ll keep this brief. This meeting was always meant as a simple formality. You are all adults, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. And in any case, we are available for consultation if the need arises.” Her gaze falls on every single one of the heirs before finally saying, “The city is yours.”