Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
“Good morn, Artemise,” Eve and I return in unison.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.” Her eyes volley between me and Eve.
We shake our heads.
“Good. Today I need your help,” she says, giving us a smile. “Today, you need to meet the Sovereign King.”
“What?” Both Eve and I breathe the word.
I continue, “I thought Celesta didn’t want me anywhere near the Sovereign King?”
“Is that a good idea, Artemise?” Eve echoes the sentiment.
“That little ring of yours will help in this,” Artemise says, her eyes scanning my face. “The temple council is calling a meeting with the Sovereign King and you need to be there. That little ring you have will serve you well today.”
My face pinches with my confusion. “You want me to wear a glamour to stand before the Sovereign King?”
“Yes,” her answer is swift, firm, and simple.
“Why?”
“Celesta has declared you as her chosen,” Artemise begins with a small nod and pursed lips, “and the ritual she wishes conducted the night of the eclipse requires the Sovereign King’s approval.
You will have to stand before him and attest you are a willing participant in the ritual, that you have accepted the role Celesta has bestowed upon you. ”
Eve scoffs a dark laugh, shaking her head. “You can’t be serious, Artemise. Please tell me this truly isn’t what Celesta has asked.”
“The ritual requires the use of blood magic, Eve,” Artemise says, her voice going cold and firm.
“And without the Sovereign King’s approval, it cannot happen.
This ritual has to take place. It’s Celesta’s only opportunity where everything she needs aligns.
I would rather not contest King Alaryc, but I will if I have to. ”
“Blood magic?” I repeat as I try to wrap my mind around a conversation where I’m missing critical pieces. “Blood magic is outlawed across Eldoterra. Why would Celesta require the use of blood magic in a ritual?”
Artemise levels a stern glare in my direction. “Curses forged in blood can only be broken by blood.”
And I am Celesta’s blood.
She really does seek to break her contract with Netharis.
What blood magic ritual does she know that I don’t? I’ve spent centuries studying and learning dark arts meant for creatures of death. And would any ritual be stronger than the bindings of the god of death?
The night of Celesta’s ascension and the ritual conducted then comes to mind. My brows shoot high. Artemise sacrificed—killed—the man upon the altar to draw down the moon goddess. All the remaining years of his life in exchange for a few moments to see her.
“No.” As I shake my head, my spine straightens. “I will not return to the hells.”
“No one is going to return you to Netharis, my child.” Artemise leans, stretching an arm across the table toward me. “You are protected here. Celesta is asking you to return the parts of her she’s given you.”
What does that even mean?
What parts has she given me?
As the words sink into my brain, a male voice cuts across the garden.
“High Priestess.”
Following the source of the sound, my head swivels left. A tall fae in silver armor emerges through the sanctum doors into the open space. Sharp lavender eyes scan the garden, catching on our table as Artemise stands from her seat.
No one else dares to move as the Captain of the Royal Guard strides swiftly toward us. Behind him, rows of royal guard stream into the garden and people begin to take notice.
“What is even happening right now?” Eve whispers in disbelief beside me.
“Captain Cyran,” Artemise greets with sugared tones and a smile. “What is the meaning of this?” She peers past him at the dozens of guard.
Cyran. The same guard who chased me through the South Ward. He’s tall. Taller than Ryc, and Ryc has me by at least a foot.
“Sovereign King Alaryc has set a decree.”
All the blood in my body pools in my feet. Eve’s hand finds my bicep where she grips me tightly, neither of us able to tear our eyes away from Cyran, waiting for his next words.
He removes his silver helmet, revealing a handsome russet face and curling lavender hair. Tucking it under his arm, he pulls a folded note from a pouch at his waist beside his sword and extends it to Artemise. She takes it.
“The temple will be under royal guard until further notice.” The tone he uses doesn’t invite argument.
I almost heave a sigh of relief. It’s not an order to be brought to the castle. Beside me, Eve’s eyes slide to mine. Her expression tells me she still has reservations.
Hastily, Artemise breaks the seal and unfolds the note. Her scowl grows deeper with each passing second. She refolds the note and huffs a sigh.
“This is unnecessary, Captain.” She gives the note an agitated shake. “Celesta keeps her devoted safe. The wards are infallible—”
Ignoring her, Cyran gestures with a point and the guards behind him disperse. They move through the garden, pairs posting themselves at each entrance. Others continue into the temple itself.
“High Priestess,” the Captain of the Guard shifts his weight, “it is in the interest of the Sovereign King to ensure Vestaris Moonshadow remains safeguarded against threats—”
“This vampire attack in the Twilight Mire isn’t a concern!” Artemise interjects, her voice growing wild.
“Both outside of the temple and within,” Cyran finishes despite the interruption.
At the mention of my name, I tear my eyes away from the Captain to stare at the mug wrapped in my fingers. Beside me, Eve tenses, her grip growing tighter and I’m sure she’s going to leave bruises.
She leans in close. “Ves, did you forget a few details about last night?” she whispers so quietly I have to strain to hear her.
I purse my lips, unable to meet her stare.
I don’t look at her. I can’t.
I don’t dare take my eyes away from my mug.
“He’s a minor detail,” I say, my voice feeble.
“Oh, I’m not judging,” Eve says and I can hear the smirk in her tone. “Except that I am.”
She stands from her seat, pulling me with her, linking her arm through mine. The Captain of the Guard takes notice.
“Lady Vestaris,” he greets me with a tight bow and my eyes widen.
And just like that all eyes in the garden that had been so intently fixed upon Artemise and Cyran now land upon me. Because of course he knows who I am.
“I’ve been assigned to accompany you during your remaining time in the temple,” he says, straightening himself and my eyes race to Artemise.
“I have already given her a guard, Captain. Your services are not needed,” she says, piercing me with her angry stare before turning to Cyran. “None of this is needed.”
“Cyran remains,” Ryc’s voice sweeps through the gardens and all heads swivel. “You’re not defying a set decree, are you High Priestess?”
Muted shock rises, gasps, hushed whispers. People leap to their feet, bowing as he passes and my breath hitches in my chest. Lacking a cloak, I’m given full view of the Sovereign King. He moves with the expected grace all fae seem to possess, holding my stare as he draws closer.
As I lower the shadowed ward stymieing our channel, he senses it, arching a brow.
“What are you doing?” I send the thought through.
He smirks as he stops beside Cyran. “I much prefer you in anything other than these temple robes, little demon. They are an injustice to you.”
My cheeks and tips of my ears heat.
I don’t think I can manage being bound to the fae for the rest of his life. At least, not without losing my own damn mind.
“Sovereign King.” Artemise sweeps into an elegant, practiced bow.
“High Priestess,” Ryc returns the greeting but does not bow.
“You waste your resources sending guard to protect what Celesta has already protected.” Artemise clings to her futile argument, sighing with exasperation.
“I would argue Celesta would be honored I take the safety of her daughter seriously,” Ryc counters in even tones. A strange contrast to the playful, dulcet tones he’d just used with me.
Artemise stammers.
“Now that that’s settled, the temple council has arrived for the meeting you’ve requested.” Ryc flashes a handsome smile, as if he takes delight in getting under Artemise’s skin.
Artemise shoots me a glare over her shoulder, her lips vanishing as she presses them into a tight line.
“Of course,” she relents with a bow of her head as she turns to Ryc. “I would like to have a word with the council before we begin.”
“Anything you need, High Priestess.” Ryc nods once, and while it sounds like a genuine notion of support, the tension between the two doesn’t dissipate.
Artemise peers past Ryc, and Opal rises from one of the tables a short distance away. Without another word, both Artemise and Opal vanish through the sanctum doors.
“Be careful around her.” I catch Ryc’s eyes. “Opal is an emotion siphon.”
He nods once.
Closing the space between us, Ryc offers me his arm. “Walk with me?” he asks, his voice low.
Eve releases me and steps aside.
I hesitate. The weighted stares of the others in the garden press upon my skin.
“Let them stare, little demon,” he says softly, “but don’t let them stand between us.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I take his arm. I may not have emerged into Erus society last night, but I’m sure as the hells doing it right now. This is going to spread like hellfire through the temple, through the city.
As we move farther into the garden, toward the northern doors, Eve and Cyran fall in behind us.
“I know Artemise has called me to meet with her and the council because of the upcoming eclipse.” He places a hand over mine and my heart begins to race.
We’ve walked like this before. This should be nothing.
But then, he wasn’t the Sovereign King—or at least, he wasn’t the Sovereign King to me.
“Celesta has declared me her chosen and wants to use me in a ritual during the eclipse,” I say, keeping my voice low.
His brows crease. “Another ritual requiring approval?” he asks, mostly to himself.
He stops, turning to me. “Is there anything Artemise has told you about the nature of this ritual? I don’t expect her to be forthcoming about it when I speak to her.
She wasn’t regarding the ritual during Celesta’s ascension. ”
He means the sacrificial ritual.
Did Artemise lie to him about that?
And if so, is she lying to me about this?
“I don’t know the exact nature of the ritual, but Artemise and Celesta believe I’m key in breaking Celesta’s contract with Netharis. Artemise insists Celesta seeks to help return me to my Fate.”
“Does she?” His jaw tightens.
In a swift motion, Ryc cups my face and presses a kiss to my brow, leaving me stunned at the ease of the gesture.
“Raise your mental wards, little demon,” he encourages quietly. “Or I’ll be too distracted to do what I need to.”’
I almost laugh.
I’m the distraction?
Releasing me, he turns to Cyran.
“I will remain with her, Your Majesty,” Cyran says with a firm nod.
“Thank you, Cyran,” Ryc grants with a small smile.
In a bright flash, Ryc vanishes.
“I warned you fae courting is a hassle,” Eve sighs, stepping in beside me. “And somehow you’ve agreed to court one of the most powerful fae in Eldoterra.”
Reality comes crashing into me, toppling down on my head.