Chapter 5 #2
The most incredible attribute of the room, however, was the throne.
It sat atop a velvet dais, raised a few feet off the ground by a short staircase.
Crafted from the same oak as the ceiling, though stained a slightly deeper shade, the throne housed carvings of constellations.
The illustrations decorated the sides of the chair, along with jewels placed randomly throughout the wood grains.
“Wait here,” the soldier spoke at last, showing me to a much less impressive chair before exiting the room.
I sat down and tried to get comfortable, even though my half empty rucksack prevented me from leaning back and my mind stopped me from relaxing.
I wasn't sure what to expect. I had no indication of what the king meant when he said that I was the most blessed of them all.
I assumed that was a good thing? But again, I had no idea.
I blew out a sharp breath.
If I die today, I swear to the gods—
Lucan sat down in the chair next to me, his legs barely touching the wood below him. His hands were folded in his lap, placed on top of the parchment he had written on during the ceremony. His eyes squinted over to me, his gaze roaming over my body while he muttered to himself.
Weird.
The silence was obliterating, and I couldn't take being stuck inside my own head any longer.
“What the hell is going on?” I blurted out, granting myself a wide-eyed look from the king's advisor.
Lucan became aware that he was ogling at me, and his face softened.
He rose from his seat then bent down in front of my chair, performing a quick check of the room before speaking to me in a hushed tone.
“The stones you wear on your face are rare enough simply by their number and location.” His head shot up and did another look around before he continued.
“But the strain of jewel you were gifted has never been recorded before in history.”
My face scrunched in perplexity at his words. Did he mean the constellastone? That was impossible. Blythe had never gifted her stone to a mortal.
Before I could ask a follow up question, he straightened his knees and abruptly backed away to sit back down in his chair. He must have heard something that I didn't, because as soon as he sat down, the soldier who brought me here had returned, along with the other nine head soldiers and the king.
The soldiers stationed themselves at the front of the dais, bowing at the waist as King Hawthorne walked through the gap they left. He climbed the velvet staircase then set himself down properly on the throne.
I did not give him a chance to settle down before I questioned him. “Why am I here instead of saying goodbye to my family like everyone else?”
“You make quite the first impression.” King Hawthorne chuckled. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Maeve Willawood.”
I gave him a silent nod of acknowledgment. I probably should have bowed like the soldiers did—or at the very least approached the throne to address the king more formally.
Oh well.
The king's hands clasped together as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Are you aware of the gift you have been presented with?”
“I am not, Your Highness.” I rose to my feet and straightened my posture, suddenly intimidated by all of the authority that surrounded me in this room.
He cleared his throat before speaking. “As you know, Blythe is the Goddess of the Mind, and I assume you are aware that she has never gifted her cherished jewel to any mortal?”
I nodded slowly in response.
As it became evident that I wasn't going to approach him, the king rose from his seat. He descended the steps he had only just climbed and advanced on me, stopping inches from where I stood. My spine shivered at the feel of his cold, calloused hand when he reached out and cupped it over my cheek.
He examined me as if I were artwork at auction—like he was trying to decide how much I was worth. The way he rotated my head to see every angle of my jewels made me dizzy. I eventually jolted my neck back. I had enough of being gawked at for one day.
His brows furrowed, but he slid his hand from my face and sighed in obvious irritation.
I glared into his soul, trying to demoralize him as he was to me.
He stared back, unaffected, before speaking in a manner that made it seem like the information made no difference to him at all. “You have been gifted the purest of constellastones from the Goddess Blythe.”
I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times, before my eyes widened and stayed that way.
King Hawthorne gave me a moment to process, which was more than appropriate as I was in complete and utter shock. This was obviously an error on Lucan's part. The fact that I was even gifted by a god was a rarity on its own. But the fact that I was gifted by her—that was impossible.
I saw my stones. They were diamonds. They had to be. Sure, they had a tint of aqua, but that wasn't uncommon with the gem.
I shook my head, denying his claim. “No. Sorry, Your Highness, but that is not true.”
Lucan stepped forward. “It is, Miss Willawood. I have been studying minerals ever since I was a boy. There is no question that the jewels adorning your skin are from the Goddess of the Mind,” the advisor said.
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. This was insane. They were delusional. “They are clear. Icy like a diamond,” I argued.
Lucan held a finger up. “One moment. Let me just—” He rummaged through his pockets, then pulled out a small mirror, silver and round. He flipped the hinges open then held it up to my face.
“See here. Though they are small, you can make out the colors within the stones. From afar they appear as diamonds, but up close it's clear that they are something much greater.”
I took the mirror from his hands, trying to see what he was describing.
My hope vanished when the lighting of the throne room made it obvious that my gems were not diamonds.
The hint of blue that I had seen was sprinkled throughout the icy stone, along with a dulled shade of violet.
There were even some tiny iridescent specks of white captured within the grains of the mineral.
They were exquisite—the most beautiful gems I had ever seen. But their beauty did not make up for the fact that I didn't want them.
I snapped the mirror closed and shoved it into Lucan's hand, then crossed my arms over my chest. “Why?” I asked him, not elaborating because I myself did not truly know what I was asking.
Lucan stuffed the mirror back in his pocket. “Why what?”
I threw my arms in the air. “Why did she choose me? Why do I have three stones? Why are they on my face? Just…why?”
Lucan dropped his head, and his voice was soft as he spoke to me. “We don't know. But it is not our job as mortals to question the goddess’ choice.”
I shook my head again, backing away from the two of them. “This is crazy. It's not possible. This—”
Lucan interrupted my stuttering. “What we do know is that as the Goddess of the Mind, Blythe is the most powerful deity.
You hold a fragment of her power within your jewels.
Even though we don't know what that power is, we can assume that you will be more powerful than any other gifted mortal in this kingdom, or even this world,” he said in one long breath.
King Hawthorne rejoined the conversation, just to wreck me even more. “We have no way of knowing what you may be capable of. But regardless, you are now the greatest asset Caelestis holds, and you will be protected at all costs.”
Every word the two of them said crushed me more and more. The reality of my situation set in, and I stumbled back as fear swallowed me in one harsh gulp. I began to shake furiously, my whole figure quaking under the pressure that was just placed upon me.
The king did not remove his eyes from me as he rambled on—something about my safety and his son. But my brain screamed, rattling against my skull and causing my ears to ring so loudly that I couldn't make out what he was even saying.
I threw my arms around myself as I glanced around the room.
The king's soldiers were watching us—I had forgotten they were there until my eyes met a set of deep blue ones.
The soldier didn't look away like he had before, and for some reason unbeknownst to me, the subtle familiarity of his gaze helped me to gather myself.
I took a deep breath, cherishing it in my lungs before fanning it out. A small sense of ease washed over me. Not a lot. But enough for me to snap back to reality.
I dropped my arms and my gaze, refocusing on King Hawthorne, who stood still as he waited for me to contribute to the discussion. My mouth clenched shut when I discovered the expression of smugness set proudly on his face.
He almost looked excited. Excited that my power would benefit him.
That pissed me the fuck off.
My body stiffened as my panic turned to anger and I blurted out a statement that everyone in the room would find downright disgraceful. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I yelled, not an ounce of shame in my bones for my language directed at our kingdom's ruler.
Gasps emitted from some of the soldiers.
Lucan's jaw clamped shut.
The king's eyes widened, then narrowed into a scowl at me.
I found some courage and stepped back towards him before anyone could respond.
“Let me get this straight. I was gifted by the one goddess who hasn't even acknowledged mortals in what? Thousands of years?” I paused to breathe. “So not only am I damned to a fate like theirs—” I pointed towards the soldiers. “Now I’m your greatest asset, too? For the love of the gods.” I rolled my eyes.
The irony of my situation was astounding.
And hilarious.
What were the damn odds?
The surprise in the king's face, mixed with the actuality of literally everything, drew an unexpected reaction from me. Within seconds I was beside myself, laughing so hard and heavy that my stomach ached. I grasped at my sides, my fingers tangling in my shirt as I fell into a fit of hysterics.
“It's just…just—” I tried to form words.
It wasn't really funny, but I had so many emotions swirling within me that needed to escape. I had promised myself that I wouldn't cry today, so this was my only outlet.
I peeked around the room, observing everyone’s reactions to my certainly unexpected reaction.
Lucan’s bulky glasses didn't hide the way his eyes filled with concern—no doubt for my mental status.
The woman soldier's mouth was agape—likely in plain shock that I would speak to King Hawthorne in that manner.
The scorching hot soldier had an eyebrow raised and almost looked amused as he fought back a smirk.
The rest of the soldiers managed to keep a straight face, indicating their successful training.
Lastly, King Hawthorne just looked absolutely bewildered.
I didn't care. Not about any of them—any of it. I hunched over at the waist and my breath warmed the hand that I slapped over my mouth.
“I didn't want this.” I laughed into my palm before dropping my arm. I let out a wild gasp of air and pushed off of my knees to stand up, putting myself face to face with King Hawthorne’s incredibly displeased expression.
My hands held my cheeks as I looked up at the glorious ceiling above me, shaking my head. “I didn't want this," I repeated in a sigh.
Dropping my head, I lost control once more, but in a whole other sense. “I don't want any of this!” I screamed, throwing my arms around in a vague gesture.
My vision narrowed to the floor beneath me as my knees weakened and I crumbled under my weight. The room around me faded as I blocked everyone out and stuffed my head into my hands.
I don't want this.
I finally granted my eyes permission to swell with real tears, and they flowed out of me like rapids after a storm. My body shook with my sobs and I refused to pull my head from my hands. It was too heavy. I would stay here as long as needed. I would rot here in this glorious room if I had to.
I didn't look up when King Hawthorne cleared his throat and excused himself, or when I heard the footsteps of the soldiers filing out after him. I didn't look up when I felt Lucan's hand pat the small of my back, rubbing once in comfort, or when he assured me it would be okay.
Only when my eyes were so puffy that they burned and I was confident that I had been left alone, did I raise my head from my hands. I rolled my stiff neck and looked around, only to find a dark haired soldier sitting in the throne, staring at me.