9. Chapter 9 #2
“Leave her alone, Lily,” someone calls out.
I follow the source of the sound around the corner, only to stumble upon a metallic-looking area.
A flurry of silver garlands are dangling across chrome-colored bookshelves, and a woman is seated on a silver-studded chaise with a heavy book in her lap.
I nearly miss her, given how her gown is silver and matte, much like her surroundings.
Her blue hair is pinned back away from her eyes, its coloring reflecting off the metal vases to her right.
Her skin is a cool shade of white, with blue veins peeking out beneath her arms. Everything about her is chilling and steel, aside from her eyes.
Those are warm and brown, framed by a pair of quirky glasses that she accidentally knocks off her face when she half-smiles at me.
“Shadow, was it?” she asks, waiting for me to nod before continuing.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Bella, and I’m sorry that you got yourself stuck in this mess.
Truly, this is the worst possible situation you could’ve ended up in.
” She fixes her glasses on the bridge of her nose and then tucks a flyaway strand of hair back into her braid.
“Bella is the only Memorykeeper in the realm,” Lily hastily interjects, plucking a piece of hardened candy from a nearby bowl and stuffing it in her mouth.
“Although it’s not exactly a useable trait in battle, is it?
” she adds loudly, casting Bella a judgmental look.
“Even so, I’m sure that the God of Wisdom has his reasons for choosing her. Show her your spellmark, Bella.”
Bella lifts her arm, revealing a tiny golden spellmark in the shape of a book. The spellmark is so miniscule, it almost gets lost in the grandness of the room.
“It’s pretty,” I breathe out.
“It comes with a lot of pain and torment,” Bella replies nonchalantly.
My stomach squirms in response. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Bella nods, her dark eyes revealing a wise yet stubborn soul within. I get a feeling that we could be friends, if we weren’t trapped inside this castle.
“Oh, this conversation is too drab,” Lily says in exasperation, setting a piece of candy back into the bowl with a clink.
“I’d like to get back to pondering why the gods chose us.
After all, it’s the highest honor in all the land to be…
” Lily continues blabbering, but her voice is drowned out by my heartbeat thudding in my ears.
If the gods have truly chosen these women based on their bountiful supplies of bloodmagic, then what will they do to me once they figure out I’m magicless?
Stuff my head in a guillotine? Hang me up in the gallows?
Behead me in a throne room? Is this what Augustine wanted to happen?
Of course it is. This was his plan all along, silly.
Another voice cuts into the conversation, this one more sultry than the rest. “Rest assured ladies, us being here probably has something to do with that pesky marriage doctrine that the queen sent out a few days ago.”
An empress garbed in a scarlet gown appears around the corner, with sienna skin and voluptuous waves of dark, wavy brown hair.
Her dress is constructed by waves of chiffon, its flowing folds secured in place by bronze plates of armor that hug her torso and shoulders.
She approaches us in silent confidence, her fierce expression requiring zero explanation.
If she was chosen by a god, then that god in question was undoubtedly the God of War.
“I assume you have heard of the marriage doctrine, haven’t you?
” she asks, pausing beneath an archway. Her jewelry is dripping in gold, and her gorgeous sunburst stare meets mine in a game of cat and mouse.
Heat rushes to my cheeks, mostly because I feel like a wet moth in comparison to her beauty. “Of course I’ve heard about the marriage doctrine,” I sputter out.
But that doesn’t mean I intend to follow it.
“And do you really believe the queen would enact such a mandate without cause?” she asks, shooting her question straight through my heart.
“I suppose not,” I reply ruefully, picking at my nail as I contemplate this. “In fact, now that you mention it, I’d venture to guess the queen never does anything without an ulterior motive.”
“Exactly,” she says appreciatively, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. Her gaze drifts up and down my body in brazen judgement, as if she too has noticed that I’m caked in mud. “After all, she is a goddess.”
“Where are you going with this, Maxine?” Lily butts in, giving the warrior princess a look of disdain, as if they’re dutifully sworn enemies.
A wide, meticulous grin spreads across Maxine’s lips. “It’s rather simple, really. I believe the gods intend on marrying us. All of us. Including you.” She banks her head at me and cocks a brow, adding, “What was your name again?”
“Shadow… er… Shay,” I answer, a plume of heat bubbling up in the pit of my stomach.
What I want to say is that the only reason I’m even in this fucking predicament in the first place is because of Augustine.
But before I can explain further, I’m propelled forward by Maxine, who snatches up my sore wrists and tugs me around another corner, to a place where weapons clutter along the blood-red walls in glass display cases, and battle logs scatter across various tabletops.
A trunk full of luggage sits at the end of a royal-red bed, which is strewn with weathered maps of Aurora.
But what stands out most is the unmistakable fiery glint in Maxine’s eye, along with a lack of raw rings on her wrists, leading me to believe that she didn’t need to be dragged here in handcuffs.
She came here willingly.
She removes a little dagger from its tempered glass on the wall and sheathes it in her thigh holster before turning back to me.
“Tell me, Shay, have you figured out which god has chosen you yet?” A moment of silence passes between us.
After I don’t answer, she motions toward the north wing of the chamber, which resembles a faraway dream.
“It’s said that the God of Dreams is a fiercely protective demon.
You would be equally favored, yet ill-fated, to be chosen by him. ”
I don’t remember striding across the room.
But suddenly, my fingertips are grazing the fabric of a translucent canopy, and my body is collapsing into a mountain of sheer blankets which feel softer than moonlit clouds against my back.
Mist fogs the mirrors of the ceiling overhead, blurring my reflection… this can’t be happening.
“Ahem.” A low grumble resounds.
I jerk upright and look around, only for the walls that had been splitting apart our rooms to start lowering into the floor, creaking and groaning as if they’re on mechanical hinges.
With the walls lowered, the Atrium becomes one big open space, with four beds in each corner, one for each of us.
That’s when I spot a butler standing idly in the doorway, who looks rather proud of himself.
“Hello all, my name is Regent,” he says with a little heartfelt wave, looking around at all of us.
“I’ve been instructed to give you all a tour of the castle today.
” He pauses to drink us all in like a tall glass of wine, until he stops short at me.
Then he begins sputtering like he’s choking.
“Oh my, who let you in here looking like that?” His golden spectacles slide down the bridge of his nose as he stares at my torn-up, muddied clothes.
Finally, someone who realizes that I’m not worthy.
He dips his head back into the hallway from where he came and begins snapping his fingers like a maniac. “Get her bathed and changed at once, we have no time to waste!” His voice echoes harshly.
Just like clockwork, I’m suddenly swarmed by a collection of maids, who spill into the room at a rapid pace, their skirts rustling with nervous haste. This time, I don’t fight as I’m dragged away.