Chapter Seventeen #2
Heart hammering, I cleanse his hand the way he did mine, feeling strangely intimate as I hold his wrist and draw it through the water with finesse so as not to slosh any droplets over the side nor handle him too harshly.
He stares at me rather than where I cleanse him, and my chest expands.
I neutralize my expression and accept the gauze His Majesty offers.
My fingers tremble so much, it cannot escape his notice.
Especially since I did not react the same during any of my other Guards’ vow ceremonies.
I swallow against the tension and wrap the gauze around Varic’s warm hand, noting the tiny scars he’s earned since I last studied them, leaving the question of what left these marks on him in my absence.
I flush hotter as Varic continues to stare while I finish tying off the bandage, then turn to the Emperor as Imperial Priest Kado once again begins to speak.
“Imperial Grand Witch Tasch will now prove her acceptance of her new Imperial Lead Guard by placing the ceremonial mask on Imperial Lead Guard Varic.”
I could refuse him.
I could reject his appointment.
I could send him back to the border where he would not have to witness nor endure all I must. Where his overprotective nature toward me, and his impulses which verge on aggression when it comes to my safety, mean it would be best to refuse him.
But this is all just a formality. A pretty display of how they pretend to grant me agency. Rituals they created to make it seem I have any choice in this, when he’s already made the vow, and we are now blood-bonded.
“After placing the ceremonial mask, Imperial Grand Witch Tasch will paint a ring around each of the prospective new Imperial Lead Guard’s eyes—an homage to our Empire’s sigil, wherein a Dragon breathes a circle of flames around itself in a show of strength and power, one which will be necessary should Imperial Grand Witch Tasch accept his appointment,” Imperial Priest Kado says, before turning to Varic.
“Once every ritual is complete, we will announce your new title as your charge welcomes you to her detail, granting you the honor so few hold, requiring you to protect her life by both blood and vow.”
Imperial Servants present me with two obsidian boxes lined with crushed black velvet, upon which sits the Imperial black ceremonial mask and a gold-plated eye pencil, respectively.
With the pressure of every eye on my being, I lift the mask from its box, then carefully pull at the edge of the masterfully folded shape made to resemble a circle of flames before turning back to Varic—the sorcerer who is to be my new Lead Guard, if I complete these traditions.
Fear and concern war in my stomach, halting my progress.
Varic stares down on me with kindness while my heart kicks at my ribs in protest.
This isn’t how it should be.
Not between you and me.
Warm fingertips cast up the inside of my wrist, and I gasp as he continues to caress it, encouraging me while everything else screams for me to stop this.
“Go on, mei waella,” he says just under his breath, barely moving his lips, missing the notice of everyone but us.
My heart quirks with his use of this term, settling my nerves in a way only he is capable, though I must remain vigilant.
He doesn’t understand what he’s agreeing to. Though he must believe otherwise.
I stare back at him with pressure mounting in my chest, knowing what I am expected to do next. And yet—I cannot do this to you, Varic.
“You can do this.” His tone is low and soothing, and my eyes flick up to his once he says it.
“Only if you tell me what those terms you use for me mean,” I blurt in a whisper, keeping the Emperor from seeing my lips moving.
Varic’s cheek rises in a smirk, while his eyes sparkle back at me.
“Maybe someday,” he whispers, with a subtle shrug. “If you’re nice to me.”
My lungs depress a frustrated breath.
“Please do not punish me for not disclosing.” The small smile he shares with me is unfair treatment.
“You can do this, mei meida.” His breath skates along the exposed skin on my arms, and gooseflesh rises in its wake. “Please, Tasch. I want this.”
Tears flood my eyes, and I need to explain what he’s asking. To help him understand why it would be better for me to throw the black fabric mask into the flames and refuse him.
“I promise. I am exactly where I want to be. More than anything.”
The sincerity in his expression and tone shakes my very foundation as I lose all resolve.
Nodding in understanding, I pry the fabric apart with trembling fingers, then raise my hands and take a step forward. Our chests press together, and my lungs fill with nutmeg and cloves—him. The scent of my Varic.
I rise up on my toes before pulling the mask down over his thick brown hair, past the impossibly bright light behind his eyes, then the bridge of his nose to place it firmly over the shaven golden-brown skin of his cheeks and angular jaw.
His eyes watch mine as I pull the remaining fabric beneath his chin and bring the rest to hide within his collar, then raise my fingertips to smooth the hem covering his nose better before straightening the tight seam across his cheekbones.
We each release a breath and stare until an Imperial servant clears their throat, and I spin to take hold of the eyeliner pencil to uncap it.
Stilling my hand as well as I can, I tilt my head back when Varic leans in and drops his chin, allowing me to rest the pad of my palm on his cheekbone where I slowly, unevenly, draw distinct black lines over the thick row of black lashes.
I hold my breath as the warmth of his hand envelops my wrist—never relinquishing his grip as he helps me to even out the line before moving on to the next.
Deep gray smoke fills my periphery, and I shake my wrist while tilting my head to indicate the Emperor. Varic’s chest expands with an intake of breath as he releases his hold just before His Majesty’s magic wraps around my wrist where he held me steady.
I make the final stroke without challenge, then step back to break all contact with Varic.
My captor finally retracts his magic from my wrist, and I resist the urge to rub the skin he held hostage.
My heart squeezes as I stare at him, utterly awestruck by how Varic appears in the full ceremonial uniform worn by my Guards. The brightness behind his eyes is amplified by the mask obscuring the rest of his otherwise distracting features.
The page steps forward, clearing his throat as he unfolds the scroll with the script I am to repeat for this traditional acceptance oath.
“Imperial Grand Witch Tasch, you are to look your prospective Imperial Lead Guard in the eye and repeat after me,” he explains.
Tears well within the black lines I drew around Varic’s lashes, and I swallow against the constriction growing in my throat, ruing this particular reaction happening just before I am to project my voice to be heard by thousands of citizens.
Varic steps closer, and I startle, not having expected it. “I will never be able to convey just how sorry I am that I failed to save Hendry,” Varic whispers. “And while I will never try to replace him, I vow to you that I will do everything in my power to take care of you, Tasch.”
An incessant ringing fills my ears as the page reads off the parchment, and I strain to hear well enough to repeat the words I have no real right to refuse saying to him.
“I, Imperial Grand Witch Tasch, do hereby accept you, Varic Euclid, as my Imperial Lead Guard. I vow to the Dragons, the Ampara Deicra Empire, and to you, that I will respect your leadership and trust your decisions regarding my safety from now until we are parted.”
Varic’s cheeks wobble beneath the fabric, and I pull in a deep breath, entranced despite the circumstances.