24. Jezebel the Unpredictable
Jezebel the Unpredictable
J ezebel, wearing almost nothing, save a thick golden rope that covered just enough, stood at the entrance, surveying the scene before her.
For the first time all afternoon, Mila saw Culis’s shoulders sag slightly, and that movement spoke volumes. Not only had he taken an inch on this venture and run a marathon with it, his demonstration had also revealed to Jezebel exactly why he’d wanted to obtain Mila from her. And it had nothing at all to do with the push-pull dynamic of their relationship, or deepening their bond, or whatever other bullshit he’d fed her.
Rather, it had everything to do with greed and furthering his own interests, and now Jezebel knew it too.
“Princess!” the priest called out, relieved to see her. “What an honour to have the God-King’s daughter with us. Who else better placed to rectify this confusion. Does the heir to the Artor Trading Company speak the truth, or does he speak blasphemous lies?”
Jezebel turned her head and studied Culis and Mila silently for a moment before responding. Her face was not light and co-conspiratorial. It was clouded and sharp.
Mila’s chest was so constricted with stress that her breath came in short gasps.
This was it. It was all about to fall apart.
Jezebel opened her mouth. “He speaks the truth,” she said.
Mila’s jaw dropped in shock.
“My father made it clear multiple times,” the princess continued in a tone that now became somewhat scolding, “that there is no hierarchy to the Heretical Behaviours. This seems to be a fact that the Church continuously likes to conveniently forget!”
There was an excited muttering amongst the crowd. Mila wondered if there were dissidents among them and if they would seize this moment to further their cause. They would be foolish not to, for here was the princess, confirming their message; the Church could not be trusted to interpret the word of the God-King.
Mila remembered Jezebel’s glee when Abbott had been corrected and silenced by Midas all those weeks ago. This priest’s challenge today made it evident that the High Priest had ignored that correction and had not passed that message on to his priests, and this seemed to have made Jezebel furious. More furious even than recognising Culis’s lie for what it was – at least for the moment.
“I shall remind you all now,” she roared, “for the last time. One who commits any of the Eight is a suitable candidate for sacrifice. All heretic behaviour is condemned. All heretics will be sacrificed in time, and all those who are obedient and obey may be saved. This is the word of my father. ”
“Praise be,” intoned the entire stadium obediently.
“Even in ten years’ time,” Culis interjected smoothly, seizing the moment. “A demon contracted to serve a human is not exempt from sacrifice. Their servitude merely…delays it, until the human master determines an appropriate time.”
The delivery of this final pitch was the only misstep in an otherwise perfect performance. It sounded too much like a technicality, like desperate scrabbling. Even without full use of her power, Mila felt the energy of the crowd shift towards caution and hesitancy.
For a moment, she thought the cause lost. Even if they left here now without resistance from the priests, no one in the audience would have been convinced that a demon trade was a legitimate business enterprise. No one would invest enormous sums of money into it. The risk of reputation, loss of wealth, and perhaps even their lives, was too high.
And then, against all expectations, Jezebel spoke again. “Indeed.”
And with that simple confirmation, she saved everything.
Suddenly, Culis had the royal house’s public endorsement that this was a perfectly legitimate trade, and Culis had every right to sell a demon contract that expired after ten years.
From beside him, Mila felt Culis breathe again as the audience broke out into frenzied discussion. The priest signalled to his jesu to relax their ready stance before nodding respectfully to the princess and backing away. Culis used their departure to orchestrate his own, bowing a deep and sweeping bow of respect to the princess and shepherding Mila off the arena in the opposite direction, back to where their carriage waited.
“Best we depart immediately,” he told her in a hushed voice, and for once, she was in complete agreement. The situation behind them had been a success, but still felt volatile somehow .
“Why was Jezebel here? And why did she support you?” she asked as they pushed their way from Central. “I thought it was all over when she appeared.”
“I invited her,” he admitted as he closed the door behind them and tapped the signal to the carriage driver. “I provided her with the opportunity she’s always dreamed of, to publicly assert her authority over the Church. Although I’ll admit, I didn’t quite know if she was going to come, or if she was going to seize the moment when it appeared.”
His audacity left Mila speechless.
Culis leaned back, savouring her expression. “I knew the accusation of blasphemy would be thrown around. Who better to challenge that than a princess who has been made to feel redundant by the Church? It was her opportunity to shout them down and claim her birthright. And she seized it. I’m proud of her.”
“You’re lucky,” Mila scoffed. “I’d wager she was a heartbeat away from being done with the both of us. You’ll have some mending to do if you still plan on being in her good graces.”
“I know,” he said gravely. “But, for now, let us take the win where it was offered. Don’t worry. She’ll come back around to me again in time. She always does.”
“It’s quite wrong the way you toy with her,” Mila said, surprising both of them with her empathy for the princess.
“Don’t delude yourself, little demon.” Culis leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “You know better than anyone that Jezebel loves to be toyed with.”
Mila bit her tongue and sat back, wishing she’d said nothing. She did not want to be too outspoken or disagreeable, lest Culis tire of her quickly, and Jezebel certainly wasn’t worth sticking her neck out for.
She sat in silence as they left Traders Bay behind them .
It wasn’t until their journey back to Culis’s manor was well and truly underway that he finally released a deep breath, cracked his knuckles, and engaged with her again.
“Well, I think, on the whole, that was a resounding success.”
“A success!?” she spluttered. “Which part do you mean? The controversy? Outrage? Or the open threat of violence?”
Culis’s smile broadened at her words. “All of it. Word of what occurred in Central today will be spread to every tavern in the country within a week. It was perfect.”