Chapter Eleven #3
“What if we bring her into the fold officially?” Aenwyn leans on her forearms against the table. “The gods cannot take mortals sworn to another god.”
“You want me,” I point to myself, “to swear loyalty to Celesta? To serve her?”
I’m met with silent stares.
“No.” My tone is firm and ice cold.
The entire reasoning behind escaping the hells was to escape servitude. I’m not about to jump right back in with the goddess of deception.
“Netharis cannot touch you as long as you remain within the temple walls,” Artemise says softly, reaching out to gently touch one of my clenched hands. “These grounds are holy, consecrated.”
“And I am half demon,” I bite back, pulling my hand away.
“Yes. You are,” Artemise nods. “You’re also Celesta’s daughter. Of course she would make an exception for you.”
“Bringing her into the fold would also lessen questions about her being here from the royal family,” Cora adds softly. “We have a few other initiates being inducted tonight. Vestaris could be sworn in along with them.”
“I said no.” I level a withering glare at the human, and Eve sits up straight. A protective gesture, I realize.
“If she doesn’t want Celesta’s protections, let her go,” Eve shoots back. “Let her figure it out on her own.”
“We can’t do that,” Opal argues, shaking her head. “We’ve been given orders.”
“We’re the ones responsible for her safety,” Aenwyn adds, folding her arms across her chest.
“You’re asking me to serve a god I don’t know, when I’ve just escaped a twelve century long contract with the god of death.” I push the bowl away from me, suddenly nauseous. “I will not.”
“What if we feign?” Cora pins her stare upon Artemise. “Have her participate in the Induction, but not join? Have her celebrate in the Weaving, but not commit?”
“Would Celesta still grant protections?” Opal’s eyes narrow.
“No.” Artemise shakes her head. “But it would stop Lilith from asking too many questions if we manage to pull it off.”
“The Sovereign King is expected to return from Vis any day now.” Cora pushes some of her hair behind a rounded ear. “He saw her the night of the Ascension. If we’re going to do this, it has to be tonight. He attends all ceremonies when in Ollora.”
“Your Sovereign King is the least of my concerns,” I reply coolly, my face setting in a scowl.
“He should be one of your primary concerns behind Netharis.” Artemise huffs a sigh as she rubs her brow. “We anticipated having to hide you from the royal family, but not also the god of death.”
“I am not scared of a mortal,” I scoff a laugh. “I can kill a mortal. I cannot kill Netharis.”
Eve laughs, genuine amusement. “If you believe yourself strong enough to fight a thousand year old fae, go right ahead. When you kill him and plunge Eldoterra into war, let me know how that turns out for you.”
Opal gives me a rather sinister smile. “Nothing draws the god of death faster than the death of a powerful being.”
Clenching my jaw, I remain silent.
Artemise rises from her seat. “It seems you have a decision to make, Vestaris. I suggest you make it by dinner.” She looks to Aenwyn and Opal. “Come, we still have preparations to be finished.”
As the three leave, I turn to the two that remain at the table. Eve watches me closely, weary, whereas Cora’s stare is more curious.
“I’m sorry,” Cora says softly, her tone genuine. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to live in the hells. I’m sure your escape wasn’t easy.”
Her words wrap themselves around my newly minted heart and squeeze.
“And I’m sure this isn’t the welcome you were anticipating,” she adds, lowering her gaze.
Honestly, I don’t know what I expected, if I expected anything at all. I didn’t quite think this far ahead in my haste to leave. I draw a deep breath, letting my chest heave with the motion. Unsure how to handle such sincere empathy, I ignore her and meet the stare of Eve.
“Why do I need to be concerned about this Sovereign King?” My tone comes across as more demanding than I’d intended.
“Because you are winged fae,” Eve answers, her face stern.
I’d expected further clarification, but she continues to stare at me.
“Not because I’m demon?” I ask, arching a brow.
“A Sovereign King marrying a demon won’t give him the High Throne,” Eve laughs. “And it’s not just our Sovereign King you have to worry about. It’s all eight of them. Ours just happens to know you exist because of the Ascension ritual.”
I blink. A few times, trying to process what Eve had just said.
“You’re telling me I have to contend with eight fae kings to retain my freedom?” My pitch rises along with my bewilderment.
“You don’t know about any of this?” Cora asks.
“No. Mortal traditions and cultures aren’t something I needed to understand,” I answer honestly, fighting against the rising panic in my chest.
In the hells, Netharis was my largest obstacle.
A god, but simply one entity—a known entity I could handle. Mostly. Alright, avoid. My lips work themselves into a fine line. I’m beginning to realize I’ve stepped into a world where I have many more enemies than I ever did in the hells.
What in the nine hells have I done?