Chapter 35
She'll Never Know
My mouth dried up and pressed tight as my eyes did the opposite, but I managed to fix my face before following Veda’s gaze.
Still, I couldn’t possibly swallow with the desert that had taken up residence on my tongue.
There he was—the enormous man somehow more dangerous in a white button-down and embroidered black dress pants—standing just a few feet behind me, staring straight into my soul.
He was made for whatever genre of clothing we were all wearing that night.
In fact, he was made for any clothing or none at all.
Soren ruffled his hair, making a mess that didn’t match his outfit at all, further cementing my need for a whole bucket of water.
“She always looks nice,” he answered Veda, still watching me, eyes taking their time.
Oh, god.
No! Don’t go forgetting he was all over Marigold again right after that…kiss.
Heat flushed upward from my chest and into my cheeks.
“Y-you don’t look too b-bad your…self,” I stammered. But the jerk didn’t even wait for me to finish before heading to the seat Marigold had saved for him.
I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. Fortunately, Veda had wandered off during that lightning-fast exchange and didn’t witness the scrunching of my nose as I scanned the room, hot with fury. Definitely fury and not embarrassment or hurt.
I found Salah and Farren at a table in the corner and joined them with a smile I couldn’t feel anywhere but my face.
It was only after we’d started eating that I noticed Adriel and Matthias sat two tables away with another boy they seemed close to.
Adriel talked quite intensely with him, voices low, but Matthias kept making eyes at Salah.
“I can’t believe I almost forgot about The Feast of Forever while we were in training!” Salah whisper-yelled at both Farren and me as she grabbed breads of every shape and color from brass platters.
“Still weird that you celebrate a guy’s death,” I mused.
Feeling adventurous and also famished, I followed her lead and snatched up a round bagel-shaped piece with orange and pink fruit-like bits poking out.
Then I broke off a piece of challah. I made sure to grab one of each from a platter of small rainbow brioche buns with white powder on top.
Farren and Salah looked at each other knowingly, and then both looked at me with wide eyes and hints of smiles.
“The night before the Anointed was killed,” Salah spoke slightly louder as she poured red wine from a clay jug.
The heavy and sweet smell was already giving me that heady feeling.
“He sat with The Twelve Knights of the Scepter and had dinner with them. He told them the secrets of the past and the future. He told them of the purpose of creation and how he would fix the damage caused by The Fall.”
“That’s where the prophecy about the Daughters started!” Farren said excitedly, leaning across the table. “He warned that he would go away for a while, but promised that one of their daughters would find him at the right time.”
Salah cleared her throat and made a face at Farren. “So, we celebrate what he did by—”
Ting! Ting! Ting!
A hush fell over the room, and the chatter fizzled out. Everyone turned in their seats toward the sound of a spoon tapping against Ezra’s wine glass.
“Welcome all, to my favorite night of the year!” Ezra announced.
Cheers, hoots, and hollering erupted all around. Everyone except for me seemed thoroughly invested in this celebration. Though I probably should have cared more, considering this night was the same night that set me on my current trajectory.
Ezra waved the revelers down before carrying on.
“This night is a time for us to remember the sacrifice that the Anointed made by giving His life to break the curse that had fallen on all of Creation. He laid down His own life to set us free. Without the spilling of His blood, we would still be bound by the Dark One and his enslavement. But we are free!”
More cheers. I looked around and tried to understand what everyone was so happy about.
Free?
They lived in constant fear. They trained like soldiers. They fought like prisoners.
How would this be freedom?
Sure, they could say what they wanted about each other and those in power, and they sure said whatever they wanted.
They married whom they wanted, had however many kids they wanted, and believed whatever they wanted.
They loved whomever they wanted. But was all that worth it?
Was that freedom worth the fear and the fighting?
“However,” Ezra’s tone dimmed, “There are still many living under the curse. They are trapped in a web of lies built on hate.” A knot formed in my chest. “They have no hope of peace and are seeking any kind of purpose, whether it is wealth, power, or even vengeance.” The knot tightened.
“So, let’s remember during our celebration tonight that the war is not over.
We still await the Resurrection and the promised reign of the Anointed.
We pray for all to know the love that has filled our lives and to receive the gifts of the Charisms and the peace that comes with knowing the Creator. ”
Applause erupted in finality, and I chugged my whole glass of red to try and loosen the mess my throat had now tied itself into.
These people might have lived in freedom, but I lived in obligation. If I helped them, I would sacrifice my own life and my own goals. If I didn’t help them, according to their beliefs, I would be condemning billions of people to enslavement under the most evil being in the universe.
Tighter and tighter, the knot drew.
Fortunately, the chatter started up again, and everyone went back to scarfing down food.
Some partygoers soon trickled toward the middle of the room to start dancing.
I broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of dancing.
If anyone dared to come up to me to ask, I’d probably punch them in the throat.
The intimacy of the art had always freaked me out, and considering my status here, I’d end up gaining a few unwelcomed eyes as I fumbled about.
Besides, the only person I wanted to stand that close to was a complete and utter asshole who was surely going to be swinging Marigold around in a moment. Though imagining him partaking in such a gentle and intimate activity brought a bubble of laughter to my throat.
After the first song finished, Matthias appeared next to me behind Salah with his hands pressing down on the table as he leaned forward, his alcohol-reddened face descending to hover next to Salah’s cheek.
Salah nearly fell out of her seat despite drinking only water so far.
“So, who’s gonna help me tear up the dance floor?” Matthias slurred.
“Screw that,” Farren cackled. “I only dance solo.” She smacked a hand down on the table and then sauntered off to do just that.
If I came back in another lifetime, I’d want to be her.
The confidence and devil-may-care attitude she brought to every aspect of her life surely meant she didn’t have time for worries or anxieties.
She’d have probably already killed Azazel if she were me.
“She would have already had Soren as well,” the voice hissed.
I focused on Salah’s reaction to her crush’s invitation and not the tingles in my gut at that thought. My friend was busily spinning spaghetti al nero di seppia on her fork with her cheeks nearly scarlet, as if Matthias wasn’t practically holding her in his arms as he spoke against her ear.
“I don’t dance!” I quickly clarified and nudged Salah’s foot under the table.
Matthias tilted his head to whisper something else to her before taking the fork from her hand and leading her away. My own neck heated in anticipation for her.
At the same time, something bitter boiled inside of me.
More and more people crowded onto the floor, leaving more seats empty than filled.
Everyone was occupied now, and I’d made my appearance.
I saw my chance of escape from this charade and was going to take it.
After all, I hadn’t come to Chapel to feast and dance.
I came for two things: help with killing Azazel and the Jonathon bow.
With my friends busy in the throng of dancers, I slipped around the perimeter of the room and darted out between the double doors that hung open for everyone to come and go. I wasn’t breaking any rules.
I headed for the library and let out a small sound of approval when the handle gave way under my grip. I wasn’t even breaking and entering tonight! But I froze with the door cracked just a few centimeters when two familiar voices wafted out from deep inside.
“You will have to tell her eventually,” Ezra muttered.
“No, I won’t. I've kept this from her for this long, and I'll do it until the day she dies. She’ll never know,” Soren’s voice growled.
“Don’t you think it’ll be a hard secret to keep? And what if the Creator gives the vision to someone else? Prophecies are not meant to be hidden. She’ll find out from someone else and will draw her own conclusions without hearing your side of things.”
“I will do whatever it takes to keep Eliana from learning the truth. My vision will never come true. I won’t let it. I can't let it. She deserves better than that. She deserves life.”
The truth about what? What vision?
My heart stopped.
Zero thuds.
Is it about me? My future? Something I do—or something he does? Why would he have a side to tell?
My fists tightened into balls with one at my side and one still pressed against the door to hold it open just enough to keep eavesdropping. Though with their voices quieter now, I could only make out a few words here and there.
At the sound of my name, I had to consciously resist the urge to take in a sharp inhale. What the hell were they talking about now? It couldn’t be all the Daughter of the Scepter stuff. That was far from a secret. What were they hiding from me? What was Soren hiding from me?