Chapter 29
Corinne let the hot water of the shower run over her as she stared at the wall, her mind uncharacteristically at ease. She should feel immense guilt for what had happened last night, but the water was warm and pleasant on her skin, and it was a new day.
A silhouette appeared through the steam, and Aryel stepped into the shower, entirely naked.
Corinne’s breathing picked up as he wrapped his arms around her, planting a kiss on the side of her neck.
She melted into his touch, letting him press his water-slick body into hers against the shower wall, her eyes drifting shut.
He kissed her shoulder, then her chest, his mouth traveling lower toward her breasts.
He closed his lips around her nipple, flicking it with his tongue—
Corinne woke abruptly, her entire body heated.
She was still in her gown from last night, and goddess, her upper arms had alit with her magic in her aroused state.
She scrambled out of bed and all but ripped the dress off before heading straight for the shower, trying to scrub away the images from the dream.
It was much harder to dispel the memories of the night before, the very real feeling of Aryel’s hands on her waist, her back, in her hair, his mouth moving desperately against hers—
Stop, she commanded herself, squeezing her eyes shut in the stream of water. She turned the tap to cold, shocking her body back into a neutral state.
A knock sounded from her room, and Corinne nearly slipped in the shower, scrambling to turn it off.
“Corinne? Are you in there?”
Vera. Goddess, help me. “One moment!”
As fast as she could manage it, Corinne dried herself off and threw on fresh clothing. She forced herself to take a breath before opening her door, fully prepared to face Vera’s judgment for her limp, wet hair and disheveled appearance.
Vera’s eyes grew wide the moment Corinne opened the door, but she said nothing at first, merely stepping inside. As soon as the latch clicked, Vera whirled on her.
“Corinne,” she choked out, gesturing up and down at her. “What has happened to you?”
Corinne hardly dared to breathe, terrified that Vera would somehow be able to tell that she’d kissed the prince last night.
“I—”
“You said you would recommit yourself,” Vera said, her voice pained. “And last night we arrive to the sight of you dancing with the prince, your burn healed early. Have you no shame, Corinne?”
Corinne’s entire body felt like she’d stepped into that icy shower again. “I feel more shame than you could possibly imagine. I feel it all the time.”
“Well, you do a poor job of showing it,” Vera snapped, crossing her arms. Tell them it was me. Corinne opened her mouth, the lie ready to spill forth, but Vera continued. “And that request for the Lightguards to transport food? What are we, pack mules? You have dishonored and humiliated us all.”
The typhoon of shame within Corinne came to a sudden halt. “I…but those people needed help, and we could provide it—”
“That is the Crown’s responsibility,” Vera said. “The only reason Mother Creita agreed to it was to not create tension between the monastery and Vytanos.”
“How is that any different from the protection we provide them in the villages? At the Boundary?” Corinne asked.
“Because we decide, with Helaera’s guidance, what is part of our duty.” Vera walked to Corinne’s window, casting a disdainful glance at the gown still in a heap on her floor.
The grief in Corinne’s heart grew tenfold. The Lightguards were displeased with her for requesting their aid for the people of Ashera.
“You have strayed too far, Corinne,” Vera said, facing her again. “You are just like your father.”
Vera, more than anyone, knew how much that would hurt her, how deep that wound ran. The words severed something within Corinne—something that caught fire.
“I am nothing like him,” Corinne bit out, angry tears stinging her eyes, and Vera balked. “If you believe that, then you never really knew me at all.”
Vera stared at her, blue eyes turning icy. “Perhaps I didn’t. I never expected you to fall so far from grace, yet here we are.”
Without another word, Vera stalked past Corinne, wrenching her door open and letting it slam behind her. Corinne’s anger flared for another moment before she caught sight of her nightstand by the window, her makeshift altar, and her heart stopped.
She’d forgotten to do her ritual this morning.
It was too late to do it now, the sun fully risen and Aryel soon to wake. A leaden feeling settled in her stomach. She’d never forgotten it, not once in fifteen years.
Vera is right—you have strayed too far.
Corinne felt like her chest would cave in. Hot panic raged within her once more, and she curled in on herself as her mind bombarded her with evidence of her own immorality.
You healed your burn. You wore extravagant clothes. You danced with the Prince. You kissed him.
No…
Heretic deviant, just like your father, you want to hurt those you care about, you want to stray from the Light, you are selfish, you had tricked them all, but now they know—
“No,” Corinne whispered, her head bowed as she began to tremble. I’ve tried.
Have you tried? If you had, you wouldn’t have strayed.
Stay the course, she told herself. Be the Light. Stay the course. Be the Light. They’re just thoughts.
Even Aryel’s words couldn’t entirely ease the onslaught of dread, not when Vera had just confirmed her worst fears about herself yet again.
Corinne didn’t truly believe she was like her father, but what if she’d just convinced herself she wasn’t to ease her own conscience?
Perhaps she deserved to feel so wretched all the time, and this was her fate.
Still trembling, Corinne retrieved her sword belt and sheathed her blade at her hip.
She couldn’t rationalize the fear drilling into her gut; all she knew was she’d forgotten her weekly ritual and something terrible was going to happen because of it.
She imagined telling Danai or Nik or Iliana about it, but they wouldn’t believe her, wouldn’t understand.
Ari might.
Corinne’s chest ached. She couldn’t talk to Aryel about it, either.
Not while the Lightguards were in the castle.
If that meant pushing him away again to protect him and herself, then so be it.
The Lightguards had already found out about her healing the burn early; if they discovered she’d let someone touch her like he had…
Corinne shivered. They’d punished her for far less.
She’d never heard of a Lightguard breaking that rule before.
If they found out, she’d simply have to accept whatever penalty they deemed necessary, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Perhaps she would end up burned twice over, handprints on both her arms. What would the Lightguards think of her?
Would they discharge her of her duty here?
Would she simply live in perpetual disgrace at the monastery, a cautionary tale for others?
And what would her friends here think?
Corinne breathed in, some of her fear dispelled. Danai and the others wouldn’t judge her, of that she was sure. And Aryel…he would be furious on her behalf if they hurt her again.
That’s part of Her Light too.
That knot in her chest that each of her friends had pulled upon began to loosen even more. She’d felt the tug of the thread again last night, when Nik and Danai had stood beside her, when Aryel had asked if she was all right. When he’d so readily offered to lie to protect her.
If they truly scorned her, if earning their love and respect was no longer possible, what would she do? She wouldn’t belong anywhere, would have no purpose.
But she wouldn’t be entirely alone. The thought both comforted and terrified her.
That’s not what I want. She wouldn’t be like her father.
She wouldn’t become a defector. Defectors were the most egregious affront to Helaera, and their magic became corrupt without the Goddess’s blessing.
She could not, would not allow herself to lose control in that way, to potentially hurt others.
Her insides roiling and her heart uncertain, she stepped outside to face the day.