Chapter 12 #2
The men in the crowd were silent as they observed it unfold.
How often have they watched this exact scene play out? It is no wonder the games were easily accepted here if this is their idea of a normal punishment.
Julian’s cold hands landed on my shoulders, squeezing me tightly as Harold’s screams continued. As they echoed across the river, as if they skipped directly into my ears, into my mind.
“Will he burn first? Or will the boat sink? That is for the gods to decide. But let this be a reminder. The Cherished are our souls sent from above. They are our future. And they are to be protected above all else,” the High Priestess advised, her shimmering eyes alight in warning.
A warning to us.
Harold’s screams devolved into broken sobs as they grew more distant, the boat making its way to the sea.
But it was no less horrifying.
I wanted it to sink, to be done with it. For him to drown and his suffering to end. Or maybe I just didn’t want to hear it any longer. To be reminded of the cruelties playing out before my eyes, that this must be common based on the crowd’s reactions.
Or rather lack thereof.
If I were the Raven I was before I walked into the games, I doubt I would have been able to keep my composure, but a lot had changed since then.
I had seen worse.
“The boat never sinks. Let’s go.” This time I accepted Griffin’s tug as he guided us away, allowing him to march us the rest of the distance to the carriage.
I even permitted him to lift me up the step into the vehicle and settle me into his lap inside on one of the two benches.
Julian took up the one across from us, his weary gaze scrutinizing my reaction, concern buried in his furrowed brow.
The space was much warmer in the vehicle, the walls stitched with cushioned velvet fabric, a window on each side. I could just make out the boat through it, still on fire, still afloat.
“It’s worse,” I whispered as I came to the conclusion.
This country. All of them.
They are awful.
Griffin’s hold tightened on me, his arms flexing as the carriage jerked us forward. Julian leaned back on his bench, his glossy ebon eyes unfocused for a few beats until he caught me watching him.
“The Sacred Trinity—Grypheem, Luscinia, and the Isles of Sacerdos—enacted the Masquerade first.” Julian dropped onto me. “From what I gathered, it was almost fifteen years ago, but I couldn’t determine why or what changed.”
Griffin expelled hot air from his lungs, it blew onto my face and made me realize how cold I was. How my nose was practically ice.
But the news caused fire to burn within my gut.
“The Redemption Games, or the Masquerade as you call it, were started on the same principle of Violencia.” Griffin leaned back into the cushion behind him.
“Two hundred years ago, thousands of criminals from all across the Sacred Trinity were sent to an empty island.
Priests, citizens of Luscinia and Grypheem, all charged with the same crime.
They were told the sole survivor could return, their record wiped clean and a place in nobility.
But nobody ever came back. Instead, Violencia was formed by those same prisoners sent there.
“Years passed and our leaders grew impatient, they wanted to understand what was happening.” Griffin took my hand, covering it with his, swallowing mine in its entirety.
“But then their scouts didn’t return either.
Eventually, a man from Luscinia returned, but he didn’t come alone.
He was married, with a natural-born child.
He requested a dual audience with the Kings of Luscinia and Grypheem, expressing how he wanted to stay in Violencia, but when the citizens there had found out he was an outsider, they had nearly killed him.
” Griffin scoffed as we continued bouncing along.
Julian leaned forward, his hand taking my free one, his rough thumb tracing up and down. “All the bad parts of Violencia come from outsiders.”
Griffin offered him a sharp-toothed grin.
“The man said all of the wrong things. How Violencia was better than our countries, developed quicker, and worse than that, the fertility issues our lands were beginning to have weren’t affecting Violencia.
Essentially, he told the kings that criminals had gotten away scot-free and had been delivered to the promised land. ”
“What happened to him?” I asked, allowing Julian’s touch to sooth me through this weight of painful information.
Griffin barked a humorless laugh. “They wouldn’t have told the truth. But supposedly he died from natural causes, and his Sacred Cherished wife was sent to the Isles of Sacerdos to live out her days. As once a woman is claimed and wed, she cannot be again.”
The rattling of the vehicle vibrated from him, all the way to me, causing my teeth to clack and my heart to shake. It did nothing to negate the hopelessness that expanded inside of me.
At the understanding that this wasn’t some magical utopia.
“And his child?” I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.
Griffin grabbed hold of my chin, forcing me to stare into his eyes as he scrutinized me.
“A son. He was shipped back to Violencia or so they say. No one is safe here. Not children. Not women. And especially not our fucking cherished. It is a title wrapped in thorns and shackles. You cannot run from us again, do you understand me?”
Staring up at Griffin, I allowed his words to percolate through me, to understand what they meant. “I will not—”
He pinched my chin harder, his fingers digging into the bone. “No Raven! All it takes is one misstep and then she will take you.” His eyes danced in fear.
Pure, unfiltered.
“How old is she?” Julian cut through the tension, his pupils dilating in anger as they narrowed on Griffin’s fingers. “The High Priestess.”
Griffin didn’t release me, but his attention flicked to Julian. “Nobody knows for certain, but there is rumor she was around when the prisoners were sent to Violencia in the first place.”
He relaxed, releasing my face and readjusting me in his arms, until he was practically cradling me. The rocking and vibrating of the carriage had somehow managed to turn comforting.
“Where are the others?” I asked through a yawn, my exhaustion catching up with me all at once.
“They are behind us. They should arrive shortly after us.” Griffin moved his arm up, providing support for me to rest my head.
Julian shrugged out of the cape he was wearing, the one that matched Griffin’s.
“Marry you both?” I asked, another yawn escaping me.
“Yes, it is going to keep you safe. We will both be able to remain by your side this way. It’s time to rest now. We have protection on all sides and a few hours trek to the castle. We can discuss it in more depth later.”
Julian leaned forward placing the thick material in his hands over me. Bringing it up, I stuffed my face in it, simultaneously heating my nose up and inhaling his scent.
I didn’t want to sleep. Wasn’t sure I could avoid nightmares about what I had witnessed. But I had been on edge since Griffin had intruded on me and Julian this morning, and the anxiety hadn’t eased. It simply transformed over and over again as each new surprise and shock was thrown my way.
The rocking and bumping of the carriage, the steady beat of Griffin’s heart, the scent of Julian, the warmth I was wrapped in. They worked one by one to layer up my comfort, to forcefully shove me into the comforting embrace of sleep.
But just as sleep doused me in its embrace, a single image flashed behind my eyelids.
Branton.