Chapter 14
For the first time, Liane was leaving the temple, and she wasn’t sure what was worse: the prospect of facing fanatical crowds at the ball or the idea of finishing the letter she’d started to her mother about the Avatheos’ prophecy.
She’d attended thousands of balls without incident before, but the shadow of her attack on the dock lingered, and her nightmares of it had taken on a more sinister twist—the people who attacked her were now her family, rotted and putrid with chunks of skin peeled back to reveal the bone.
As was usually the case, obligation won out.
Luzie suggested that she act as Liane’s body double during the event.
Luzie and her were of similar height and build, and should the situation get tense, they could swap places.
While she didn’t love the idea of putting Luzie in danger, Luzie didn’t seem frightened at all.
When Liane had protested, Luzie countered with, “We’ll be among our peers.
They won’t dare swarm you. It’d look improper.
Besides, it’s been ages since we’ve been out to any sort of soiree. ”
With Luzie’s reassurances, they prepared for the ball.
She had to admit it was the first time she’d been glad to wear the veil.
This time, the level of anonymity would be welcomed.
Luzie helped her get ready, excitedly chattering about who might be in attendance, what waltz they might dance, and on and on.
Liane let their conversation flow over her like water as she tried to forget her concerns for Luzie’s sake.
But the dark thoughts continued to swirl.
“Ready,” the head priestess declared as she pinned the sash of Liane’s robe just so.
Luzie held up a mirror for Liane to admire her reflection, and through the gauze of her veil, Liane saw a complete stranger.
She was draped in gilt fabric. The crown on her head and the chains around her waist reminded her of statues of Cyra.
In fact, if she weren’t looking in a mirror, she would have thought she was looking at Cyra herself.
It made the small hairs on the back of her neck rise. She felt like a fraud.
There was no time for self-reflection, as their priestess entourage arrived.
The priestesses and Ludwig escorted them through the temple.
They descended down a flight of rough-hewn stairs that reminded her of the tunnels beneath the Golden Palace and into a storage room, where stacks of crates and barrels were crowded together.
The doors opened onto a city street, and Liane braced for a mob.
But it was empty except for an unmarked carriage.
Luzie giggled as they climbed in. Ludwig took a seat next to the driver.
Then the driver took them through the city.
It was an open and bright place with people drinking wine on balconies overlooking the street, who waved to them as they passed.
If she weren’t terrified of being attacked, she would have loved to explore the city more.
Their destination was in one of the richer neighborhoods, where the villas loomed.
Their courtyards were filled with citrus trees and fragrant flowering vines.
Their host’s villa was surrounded by high walls, and Midnight Guards were posted at the entrance.
A few commoners were lingering outside the gates, and at the sight of them, her chest clenched.
But they passed them by without issue. Unlike her usual arrival at events, she was let out of the carriage at the back servants’ entrance.
The Avatheos arrived separately, in his private carriage, and when he stepped out, he offered his bent arm for her to take.
They climbed the narrow servants’ staircase and entered an unfinished hallway.
This was how the Avatheos seemed to materialize into rooms. The priestess in charge informed them that Luzie would wait in the servants’ passage until she was needed.
For now, Liane and the Avatheos would take their seats and wait for guests to arrive.
The guards and Ludwig did a sweep of the perimeter before declaring it safe, and guests were allowed to enter.
There were two gilt chairs at the head of the room, somewhat akin to thrones.
It felt wrong to sit there after what the Avatheos had said to her.
She’d never try to usurp her mother, or Aristea, for that matter.
Liane had seen the pressure being a ruler put on them both and had no desire to share their fate.
Whatever the Avatheos’ vision might have been, there must be another way around it.
Liane twisted her hands as she watched guests pour in.
They lined up to greet her, giving her a bow and making the sign of the star against their foreheads, before filing off to mingle and pick at the banquet table.
She’d eaten before she arrived, at the Avatheos’ insistence.
The divine didn’t need to sustain himself on something as mundane as food.
Ludwig leaned in from behind her and whispered in her ear, “If you need a break, just say the word.”
“I’m fine,” she said.
Ludwig stepped back without another word, and she felt the sweat gathering on her neck.
She was sweltering beneath layers of fabric, and her back was starting to throb.
Was a fever brewing? Stars above, she hoped not.
More people filed by; their faces ablur.
And she took a few deep, calming breaths.
She could do this. The goddess wouldn’t have chosen her if she weren’t capable.
Visions could be misinterpreted, even by the Avatheos.
When the ballroom was sufficiently full, the Avatheos stood. And she thought she would be able to hear a pin drop as the crowd turned to face her, their attention hungry.
The Avatheos held the silence for a few heartbeats before he said, “Thank you all for coming tonight. We are pleased to present the goddess’ chosen vessel, the holy warrior who will conquer the darkness.”
A cheer erupted from the crowd. Glasses clinked in a toast, but the fire burning up her back was becoming unbearable.
More people lined up to greet her, but their faces melted into one another.
And each new wave of people that came up to her felt like waves crashing against the shore.
Some wished her well, others offered prayers or subtle bribes for miracles she couldn’t perform.
It was a strange out-of-body experience.
She felt like she was choking. She grasped hold of the arm of her chair, nails biting in hard enough to bend them back, her breathing ragged. She stood, and they fell silent, waiting for her to say something profound.
“I need a moment to catch my breath,” she said.
Ludwig was at her elbow, guiding her out into the secret passageway. Luzie had been slouching in the hall but perked up when they entered.
“I need a few minutes. Mind taking over?” Liane asked.
“Take all the time you need.”
Liane squeezed Luzie’s shoulder and hurried down the hall and out the servants’ entrance. She’d really mucked it up. If it weren’t for Luzie, she might have made an even bigger mess. She needed air and a second to think. To clear her thoughts with something that wasn’t destiny or doom.
The villa had a back garden, with tall hedges that she could get lost in.
The air was humid and sticky, and she pulled back her veil to uncover her face, but it got caught on the golden spikes of her headpiece.
She wanted to rip it off her head, strip down to her underclothes, and splash in the fountain that she could hear somewhere in the garden.
The weight of her veil and gilded crown made her head throb.
The fountain she’d heard was mounted against the garden wall, and a stream of water trickled from it.
She cupped some cold water in her hands and then splashed it against her face. It did little to soothe her.
The coiled trapped feeling she’d been ignoring for days was ready to snap.
She wasn’t suited for life within temple walls, shrouded in silk, and meant to act mysteriously divine.
Maybe she should confess her vision and be free of this role as avatar before someone really got hurt.
But then what became of his vision of doom, and the sword in her back?
The fate of the kingdom was on her shoulders, and she couldn’t stand it. She wanted her life back.
A jasmine bush climbed up over an archway leading to a shadowed part of the garden.
Liane glanced at Ludwig for a second before running into it.
Her feet pounded on pavement, and his armor rattled as he pursued her.
She ran through the garden until the fear that spiked her veins subsided, and she was doubled over.
“What are you doing here?” Ludwig asked.
She popped her head up to answer, but he wasn’t talking to her. Her breath caught in her throat to see Erich haloed by moonlight. Her stomach swooped. Was this a hallucination, or was he really there?
“I just want to talk to her.”
“You have no right—” Ludwig started to say, but Erich ignored him and looked at her.
When their eyes met, she felt as if his gaze set her skin ablaze as she remembered their last kiss.
The garden, the party, and everything else fell away.
She thought giving him up would be easy, but nothing about him was ever simple.
He took a step toward her, and Ludwig inserted himself between them.
Erich’s eyes flashed gold for a second before he extinguished whatever fire had burned in his gaze and looked at Ludwig.
“Let me talk to him. Alone,” Liane said in a commanding voice.
“Liane.” Ludwig suddenly sounded very tired.
She crossed her arms and stared him down. After a few minutes, he ran his hands through his hair, a sure sign of defeat, and said, “This better be the last time.” And then he left them alone at last.