Chapter Twenty-One #2
Roman noticed my approach and did his best to sober up as he elbowed the two trainees standing with him.
Acting as though we were bosom buddies and he hadn’t ended a man’s life mere hours ago, he looked me up and down and wiggled his brows.
“If I had realized you cleaned up this nicely, I would’ve won you over before the HP had a chance. ”
His words inspired my second eye roll of the evening. “You could’ve tried,” I retorted, and his companions scoffed.
Unoffended, he blew me a kiss and winked. “It’s easy for you to dismiss my prowess when you’ve yet to experience its potency.”
His boast earned fresh snickers from our audience.
I couldn’t quite pin down how I felt about these guys, especially Roman. But. The bed-hopper was an expert at acquiring information. “Have you heard anything about Winslet’s condition?”
He waved a hand through the air, dismissing my concerns. “She’s fine. Only had a few scratches.”
Um, had we not participated in the same blood battle?
She’d had far more than scratches, thanks to a bullet and an arrow.
“I got an up-close view of her injuries. If they weren’t kill shots, they were the next best thing.
” And yes, I believed in instant healing.
Look at what Ember had done for me. But she was a conduit for Soal. Those aligned with CURED were not.
“Either way, Emperor Dolion has access to special medications and treatments.” Roman hiked his shoulders, the incongruity of his words escaping him once again.
“I don’t know the nitty-gritty details, but I did see Winslet walking around.
Hey, look at this guy and tell me if you see a resemblance.
” He hiked his thumb at the statue of a man reaching for the orb.
I frowned as the statue’s features maybe kinda sorta shifted before my eyes, molding into a profile similar to Roman’s. One of the creepiest things I’ve ever seen.
“I’d like a word with you, Arden.”
The familiar enunciation came from behind me, just as it had done before dinner with the emperor. Roman and the other trainees backed off in a hurry as I faced Felix.
I inclined my head in greeting. “May I inquire about the subject?”
“You may not.” He offered me his elbow. “Come.” An undeniable command.
Great. I glanced at Cyrus, or tried to. He and Lolli were gone. So much for remaining in his line of sight. Clinging to my fraying calm, I accepted the high prince’s arm. “I’m glad you and Cyrus set aside your differences to aid each other.”
“I’ve always loved my brother. I have no wish to harm him.” He guided me forward, snagging a glass from a tray and passing it to me. “This is a special kind of champagne. Taste it.”
Trying to unpack his words for any hidden meaning, I accepted the beverage and took the smallest sip, marveling at the effervescence. I told myself I’d had enough, that I should consume no more, yet I took another sip. And another.
“Good, yes?” he asked with a hint of satisfaction.
“Beyond.” Before I knew it, I’d finished the entire glass. A huge mistake. In seconds, the bubbles migrated to my brain, and my head swam in an ocean of silliness.
“I’ve always loved my brother,” Felix repeated, then dipped his head closer to mine and lowered his volume. “You, I’m not so enamored of.”
Rude. “Thankfully, I’m not dating you.” Maybe a second glass of champagne wouldn’t be amiss.
“Vyle believes you might be Soalian, but I disagree. I know a CURED handler when I see one.”
Me, a handler for CURED? I snorted. “You think I’m with Cyrus to spy for the emperor.
” I wanted so badly to build my defense and list all the reasons the prince was mistaken.
The champagne said, “A fabulous idea!” But I didn’t do it.
I bit my tongue instead, refusing to elaborate and explain I loved Cyrus and would never betray him.
“I wanted you to know that I know.” Felix stopped before Briar Rose’s statue, acting as if he hadn’t just insulted me. “Tell me what you’ve heard about her.”
Wobbling on my feet, I looked up, up and took in her familiar delicate bone structure. Her high cheeks and elegant nose. Her full, heart-shaped lips and slender jaw.
“Not much,” I admitted. “Only that she is Astan’s wife and a grower.” And the ex-wife of Tsuri.
“To the people of Theirland, she was the equivalent of Mother Nature. A beloved caretaker of the earth and its blooms. Kind to many but savage when provoked. Astan touts her as the treasure of all treasures. The prize of all prizes.”
“You speak as if you’ve spoken with him directly.”
Felix continued, ignoring my attempt to steer the conversation. “Before wedding Astan, she was married to Soal’s son, Tsuri. Are you familiar with the story?”
“Hmm,” I muttered, noncommittal. My heart pounded.
“Soalians tout Tsuri as a being of love and light, but if that’s true, why did his wife have a torrid affair with Astan? Why did she choose Astan even after Tsuri died from healing her?”
Questions I’d asked myself. And yet, in that moment, the answer seemed so clear. “Your argument is skewed.”
Felix blinked with surprise. “Is that so? Please, elaborate.”
“You lay the blame for Briar Rose’s unfaithfulness on the husband she betrayed.
” I walked a tightrope here. By defending Tsuri, I could get myself into big trouble.
But I couldn’t not point out the obvious, now that I saw it.
“Whether he is love and light or not, she had a free will, the choice hers. From what you’ve described, it sounds like she had a duplicitous heart. Why not condemn her for the affair?”
Like me, Felix muttered, “Hmm.”
A trumpet blasted, startling me and everyone else.
I stiffened, thinking Astan’s horns were responsible, but I breathed a sigh of relief as the reason presented itself via masked servants who opened a set of double doors to welcome the emperor.
He strode into the room with Giselle at his right, Winslet at his left, and Mr. Vyle on his heels.
What a sight. They each wore a voluptuous black robe, with shadows draped over their shoulders like fur cloaks.
They said nothing, and thanks to the champagne, I almost laughed at the spectacle.
They stopped at the statue of Bala and stepped onto one of her paws, which now faced up with its claws flared, providing the perfect protective railing. That paw raised until the foursome looked down upon us. While others oohed and aahed, I vacillated between shock and horror.
Though silence reigned throughout the chamber, everyone reverential, the emperor raised his fist in the air in a demand for quiet.
“Many in this room will soon be presented with the honor of a lifetime. The possibility of hosting a god, their power ours. Those of you selected will have a seat at my table and wield abilities beyond imagining. I know, I know,” he said.
“Many of you have only just discovered these gods are real and that they wake.”
Astonishment charged the air. A single phrase snared me. Their power will become ours. Ours, he’d said, not theirs. He meant to accept a god, as well, but which one? Not Astan, the leader, since that “honor” (currently) belonged to Cyrus.
“Look past your shock,” he said. “Listen for the call . . .”
My ears twitched, and my brow wrinkled. There was nothing, no sound.
Wrong. A soft melody drifted over the airwaves. A familiar, haunting song hummed by . . .
“Arden Dawn Roosa . . .”
My gaze zoomed back to Briar Rose. The sound had come from her, her vocal cords trembling the slightest bit.
“Arden.” She angled her head toward me and blinked. Her stony gaze peered into my soul. “Not as lovely as the high princess, but able to do what she never has: inspire loyalty in a king. Well, a future king.”
“You’re speaking. You’re a statue, and you’re speaking.”
“Yes, but only in your mind, just as you are speaking in mine.”
I shook my head, attempting to dislodge her. Had to be the alcohol.
My gaze swept the room, landing on Roman.
He stood in front of his look-alike statue, staring up, quiet, utterly entranced.
In fact, everyone stood in front of a statue, staring up.
Trainees and royals alike. Cyrus had returned, and he, Felix, and Summit stood in front of Astan.
High Princess Lolli now pressed at my side, focused on Briar Rose.
What was even happening right now?
“Let me know you,” the goddess said. She shifted her position and extended a flower down to me, as if in offering.
Queasy, I rasped, “You think to choose between the high princess and me.”
“I do. The problem is, Soal seeks to recruit you.” The barest tendril of hatred slipped into her tone. “He’s erected a hedge of energy around you, preventing me from performing a proper read.”
The queasiness worsened. She sensed Soal. How long until she and the others realized he protected me not because he desired to work with me but because he already did? “Let me make your decision easier. I refuse to host you.” Perhaps the wrong thing to admit to her face.
Her chuckle tinkled like bells, the amused sound seemingly genuine, telling me she was unoffended by my refusal. “That’s because you haven’t yet realized the truth about Soal. How dangerous and deceitful he is. How we are the only line of defense capable of defeating him.”
“And yet you didn’t defeat him,” I reminded her. “Even now, you’re trapped in stone because he bound you.”
“And you think we learned nothing from our failure?” Bitterness hardened her voice, making the words as sharp as blades.
I rapidly blinked. Okay, so, I’d touched on a sore subject. Got it. “Why would you pick me?” She’d already hinted, but I wanted the reason(s) stated in full detail.
Her lips quirked. “Two reasons. You are Cyrus’s chosen, and Astan is mine. But right now, the only thing that matters is stopping Soal before he ends us all, your people included. So I’ll make a deal with you. Accept me, and we will reign beside Cyrus. His agreement is already secured.”
Already secured?! “No,” I snapped. “That’s a lie.”
“Refuse me,” she continued, “and I’ll merge with Lolli. She’ll be the one at his side, and you’ll be dead.”