Chapter 19 #2
I looked at my friends gathered around me, eyes drifting from Malakai before me to Jezebel where she whispered to Erista.
From Santorina in the corner of the stairway, to Cypherion whistling beside her.
Finally, I met Tol’s eyes. Leaning against the banister beside a group of girls from Palerman, sleeves rolled to his elbows.
He winked, and my grin widened, laughter bubbling up my throat.
This. This was why I fought for my position. To bring this level of levity and stability to a people horribly, unfairly ruined. And this was only the beginning.
After hours of garden games, watching children fling rocks into chalk-drawn patterns and older Mystiques spar with dulled blades, I tucked into a banquet table with my core guard, Erista, and Esmond.
Pitchers of red cocktail with fresh fruit slices floating in it lined the table between floral garland.
Trays piled high with spring vegetables, rice dishes, and cured meats were passed around.
“Vale!” I called as the Starsearcher wandered past our table alone. I set aside the salad Malakai had been handing me and stood to pull out the last empty seat at our table of nine. “Dine with us.” My smile was genuine, but the request wasn’t debatable. I wanted all three delegates here today.
“Thank you, Revered,” she said, taking the seat between me and Cypherion. In her dove-blue dress with twinkling jewelry, she looked like a vision cut from the earliest hours of dawn, when darkness warred with day.
I grabbed a pitcher and poured both myself and Vale a full serving of the deep red drink, then raised my glass.
“I’d like to thank our guests for celebrating the festival with us.” The other hundred tables were filled with chatter, but at mine, eight faces looked at only me.
“As if the five of us are nothing special,” Jezebel muttered to Tolek.
“I am grateful for you every day,” I chastised. “But today I’d like to honor our friends from different clans and thank them for giving me the opportunity to prove myself. For all of us to prove ourselves.”
Directly across from me, Tolek lifted his glass. “Well said.”
“And to you, Revered,” Malakai added louder, eyes intent.
We all took long sips of the sweet cocktail and began on the feast. The staff of the Revered’s Palace had outdone themselves. When I told them I wanted to host a full Renaiss festival, I’d worried they wouldn’t be able to pull off one so elaborate.
I’d have to speak with Alvaron and ensure they were being paid accordingly, because the food was exquisite.
Everything was fresh and flavorful, spices I hadn’t tasted in years dancing across my tongue.
Where they got such ripe fruits and vegetables on such short notice, I didn’t know, but I didn’t care as I slipped each bite between my lips and savored the taste.
“Well, I don’t know about you all, but I’m certainly ready for the evening.” Tol’s lips twitched mischievously as he used two fingers to capture a berry where it floated in his wine and pop it into his mouth, looking me directly in the eye. A challenge.
“Renaiss is often a night to remember,” I answered, finishing what was left in my glass in one sip. Malakai’s hand snaked around my shoulders.
“Or a night not to remember,” Jezebel corrected. I didn’t think anyone besides me caught the wink she threw toward Erista.
“If any of you are too inebriated to find your beds, I won’t be carrying you,” Cyph scolded—as if he didn’t celebrate right along with us every year. Well, every year that we used to celebrate.
“I feel as if I’m missing the joke,” Vale said, pausing with her fork over her dish.
“Every year on Renaiss, the cities in the Mystique Territory throw festivals that last the entire night. Dancing and drinking. Honestly, any excuse for all sorts of raucous behavior,” Tolek explained.
“Which is Tolek’s favorite kind of behavior,” Rina added. He nodded at her, eyes dancing with mirth.
“Damenal used to host the largest celebration of all,” I explained to Vale. I briefly wondered how the Starsearchers celebrated the day. “This is the first year the festival will return.”
“And rumors say this event will top those in the past,” Malakai finished, voice strained.
Under the table, I gripped his knee, running my hand up and down his thigh, and a bit of the tension left his body.
It was the first holiday in years that he was not locked up.
What gruesome memories would that bring to the surface?
“I’m certainly ready to see how Mystiques celebrate.” Erista’s voice carried across the table.
Everyone fell back into their private conversations, some serving themselves more food or drink. Jezebel and Erista rose and disappeared into the crowd. Tolek was swept away for a game with Hylia, which Rina and Esmond joined.
Soon, Malakai stood, too, kissing my cheek. “I think I’ll go challenge some old friends.” His eyes were on the sparring ring where a number of men about our age gathered, but his voice was hollow.
“Don’t let them win.” I winked. That left Cyph, Vale, and me.
When Malakai was out of earshot, the Starsearcher asked, “Are the rumors about what he endured true?”
I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful she hadn’t asked in his presence. Malakai was brutally fragile lately, like he could shatter completely at any moment.
“I’m sure the horrors you’ve heard were accurate. Especially the most unbelievable of them.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m so sorry.” She laid a hand atop mine on the table, squeezing gently.
Her gaze flicked between me and Cyph, who reclined in his chair on her other side.
“Truly, what you’ve all survived—what you’re doing each day here—it’s admirable.
I’m going to recommend Titus votes for your appointment. ”
“Thank you, Vale.” I squeezed her hand in return.
Then, I exchanged a knowing glance with Cypherion.
“Do you have any insight into Titus’s premonition? The one that made him suggest this system of delegates in the first place?” Her eyes narrowed slightly, then quickly resumed their wide innocence, but it was a moment too slow. I lowered my voice to ask, “What do you hide, Vale?”
She folded her hands in her lap. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you in the Rapture. Titus defers to you before making decisions. Your opinion is vastly important to him. There’s cunning in your smile and kindness in your heart, and apparently a wealth of secrets hidden behind those lovely green eyes of yours. I’d like to know what.”
“I am the apprentice of Titus. My purpose is to support him. To collect insights that may help or harm him and the Starsearchers through whatever means necessary.” Absently, she ran a hand over the place where her shoulder met her neck, rubbing circles across the skin hidden by her hair.
“I find cunning and kindness to be useful tools.”
And though it didn’t feel like the whole truth, it was enough for now. I liked Vale, and I didn’t want to interrogate her. “That is also admirable.”
A breeze gusted across the table, rifling the garland and lifting my hair.
Cyph gasped. His eyes were locked on Vale—on that place where her neck met her shoulder—a murderous calm I rarely saw in him slipping over his features.
He dropped his voice, leaning in. “You’re a slave?”
I craned my neck to see what he was looking at. The wind had blown Vale’s hair back behind her shoulders, revealing a halo of stars pressed into her skin. They were etched over in silver ink, as if to hide the scar, but from this close it was clear it had been branded into her.
Vale eyed us both, that cool evaluation seeping back into her sharp-featured face. “I am not.”
Cypherion and I exchanged a wary glance.
That stamp on her skin meant she belonged to one of the temples of the Starsearchers.
Or at least, she had. The archaic practice of the temples claiming young girls was supposed to have ended centuries ago, but in some far stretches of the continent it lingered.
It was rare but not unheard of to meet a girl with one of the temple symbols branded into her skin.
The sight of it now had my gut churning. It was disgusting and a complete violation of a warrior’s power and rights to commit anyone to such a life unwillingly.
Vale’s hands shook, but she clasped them in her lap.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” I soothed.
“I’m not ashamed of where I’ve been,” she snapped. Her usually soft eyes turned brutal. “I did belong to a temple once, yes. Maybe one day I’ll tell you of that. But it saved me. And when I fell into Titus’s household, he had the scar covered for me. I am not a slave.”
“Vale.” Cypherion was calm. Hesitant. “You don’t have to share it with us. But you can tell us the truth.”
A wall snapped up behind her eyes. Though Cypherion’s voice dripped with nothing but kindness and she was recommending my appointment to Titus, it didn’t mean she trusted us with her personal strife.
“There’s nothing to tell,” she deadpanned. “I am an employee of Titus and lucky to be so.”
Cyph’s throat bobbed. “Not all cages look like prisons.”
Vale locked her gaze to his. “Not all chains are meant to be escaped.” She pushed back from the table before either of us could respond. Cyph shot to his feet, but he didn’t go after her. Instead, he tracked her through the crowd and up the stairs into the palace.
Then, he turned the opposite direction and stormed toward the training yard.