47. Leader Ezekiel’s Suspicions
Chapter forty-seven
Leader Ezekiel’s Suspicions
S olveig was numb to the chill as she strode into the temple. She would have to be for what came next. Locking away her softened heart that the prince had wounded as she cursed herself for allowing him to affect her.
An acolyte anointed her with waters they claimed came from the lake at the Elysian Caldera. She repeated the prayer back to them in a daze before they led her through the echoing hallowed halls. Two steps behind her parents, as always, to Leader Ezekiel’s private chambers.
The king did not knock—royalty was above the law in Torrelin in many respects, this being one of them. Face-to-face meetings with the Temple Leader were available to few people, but the ruler of Torrelin had an open-door arrangement with the temple and vice versa.
“Majesties.” Leader Ezekiel beamed as he stood from behind his desk. “Your Highness,” he echoed as his eyes caught on her. His arms stretched wide in welcome. White robes trimmed in gold, somehow still pristine despite the dirt hallways that spun off from the public areas of the temple.
“It is an honour to welcome you to the temple ahead of today’s… festivities.” His gaze grew hard on Solveig for a moment. “Please sit.” He walked around his desk, motioning for King Emerson to take the seat he had vacated. “There is something I wish to discuss with you all before we proceed.” Solveig and Asta each took seats to the side of the desk as Leader Ezekiel moved to stand before them in the centre of the space. “It pains me to trouble you with concerning news on a day such as this.” Creases formed above his brow as he looked toward Solveig’s parents. “But I must bring to your attention an alarming discovery from my private library this morning.” His eyes flickered to Solveig for a beat.
“What discovery?” the king ordered.
“My Acolytes were taking morning inventory when they noticed a book appears to have vanished into the night.”
“Which. Book?” the queen seethed, crushing the skirts of her deep red gown in her fists.
“The same one that Prince Malik attempted to abscond with.” This time, when Leader Ezekiel’s gaze fell upon Solveig, it lingered, piercing and cold.
“Your Highness, I know that you have been studying in the library of late. I sincerely hope you had nothing to do with this.” Solveig met Leader Ezekiel’s gaze head on.
“I ceased all my research on the topic the moment the queen informed me they had apprehended our culprit.”
“And is there anyone who can vouch for your whereabouts last night?”
“I sleep alone, Leader Ezekiel. Only The Oracle could tell you if they saw me slipping out into the night.”
Leader Ezekiel turned to face the king and queen once more. “I should endeavour to speak to our visiting prince to ensure he had nothing to do with this.” Queen Asta looked between Solveig and the temple leader for a moment, her eyes narrowed, mouth pinched.
“The boy is to return home soon, but we shall ensure that he pays you a visit first,” King Emerson agreed.
Solveig seethed in silent fury from her chair. The prince was a stupid, reckless fool. And now he may pay the ultimate price.
“If you would, Your Highness,” she heard Leader Ezekiel say, pulling her from her thoughts.
“I’m sorry?”
“I said I should like to conduct a mental well-being check before your trial this afternoon. To ensure all is in order.”
Solveig’s blood ran cold, for she knew what that meant. Prisoners within Luxenal had referred to it as a mental well-being check, too. Was this how they would pass it off to the masses?
“She would be happy too,” the queen spoke for her. Solveig’s head swung to her mother. Unable to hide the hurt that sliced through her.
“Excellent.” Leader Ezekiel clapped his hands and two acolytes entered, each taking one of the princess’s arms to lead her from the room. Ezekiel, the king, and the queen followed them.
“Your father and I shall pray in the main worship hall, dear. Come find us when you’re done, and we’ll head to the trial together.”
They led Solveig down a separate hallway. With the two acolytes at her front, and the temple leader at her back, escape was futile. Their footsteps echoed across the dirt floor and up the white walls. This deep within the temple, the hallways were narrow, dark, and cold.
“Is this necessary?” Solveig muttered, as she desperately fought to hide the growing fear from her voice.
“You’ve spent a concerning amount of time with that foreign prince. Gabriel and I worry about what effect he may have had on you.”
“You think I’d be here today if I wasn’t loyal to the cause?” Still, it did not stop the acolytes dragging her further and further down the dark passageway.
“It is merely a formality, Your Highness. And it shall be over before you know it.” It was pointless arguing with him. His life began and ended with worshipping The Oracle. But Solveig knew it wouldn’t be over before she knew it. Knew that it would last as long as The Oracle wanted it to. Knew that her scalp would burn with the remnants of their power as they shredded her mind to allow them entry.
They said The Oracle was omniscient. If that was true, then they shouldn’t need that device. The realisation only numbed her further. She didn’t fight as they strapped her into the chair, didn’t flinch as the copper disks bit into her scalp. She did nothing. Not until the burning began and the pain, like a knife cleaving through her skull, was too much to take in silence, even for her.