Chapter 30 #2
Aryel’s eyes hardened. “I meant what I said, Corinne. Tell them it was me.”
Corinne took a steadying breath. “Okay.”
“I’m serious,” he said, taking a step closer to her. “Don’t give them the chance to hurt you like that again. You did nothing wrong.”
The realization that she agreed with him made her feel lightheaded.
“I’ll tell them,” she whispered.
Aryel moved closer again, and Corinne backed up until she hit the door. He stopped, closing his eyes for a moment.
“I just want to be clear,” he said, his voice strained as he looked at her. “If you felt in any way obligated to…reciprocate…the other night, I’m sorry. I never want anyone to feel like they have to do what I want just because I’m the prince.”
“Ari, we can’t talk about this right now,” Corinne breathed, her chest aching. Had he been worried about that this whole time? The conflict in his eyes pulled the next few words from her. “That’s not at all how I felt.”
The tension in his shoulders melted away, and he took a slow, deep breath. He stepped closer again, startling her as he braced his hands on the door on either side of her head.
“Then I’m going to kiss you again before I leave Helaera’s earth, Corinne Anastos,” he said quietly, those beautiful eyes holding her captive.
She shouldn’t want this, but every part of her seemed to glow with him so close, as he confirmed that he didn’t see their kiss as a mistake.
He wanted her as much as she wanted him.
Aryel turned away from her as though nothing had happened, ever the impeccable actor, and Corinne clumsily gathered her scattered thoughts. Goddess help me. She had a meeting with the Lightguards to attend, and she needed to embody the same collected exterior Aryel had.
After he disappeared into his rooms and another guard arrived to relieve Corinne, she dashed inside her room to change her clothes and muster her courage.
None of her shirts or tunics were just right for what she wanted—they were either too plain, or too wrinkled, or too flattering.
Knowing she was short on time, she settled for a bone-white tunic with sleeves that went down to her elbows and a gold hem.
She quickly shook out her curls and splashed a bit of water on her face, staring at her hazel gaze in the mirror for a moment, hands gripping the edges of the stone sink. Stay the course. Be the Light.
You did nothing wrong.
That’s part of Her Light too.
Corinne was going to lie to the Lightguards for the first time in her life. She would simply have to beg Helaera for forgiveness—in the end, Corinne answered to Her. Surely the Mother of Ashera would understand why she couldn’t bear to be burned again.
Why she now questioned if she’d deserved it the first time.
That revelation settled heavily on her heart. Helaera guide me, I beg you. Corinne straightened, retrieved her sword, and set off.
Orana met Corinne by the entrance hall, ready to escort her to the guest chambers the royal family had given the Lightguards. The matron of servants looked absolutely exhausted.
“How are you?” Corinne asked as they began walking, and Orana blinked at her in surprise.
“I’m well, thank you,” she said, leading Corinne toward the north wing of the castle.
“I know it can’t be easy managing all the extra nobles in the castle,” Corinne said. “I hope you’ve been able to get ample rest.”
Orana was quiet for a moment as they ascended a flight of stairs. “You are kind to say so, Corinne.”
They continued on in silence until they reached a door on the third floor, unremarkable and at the end of a short hallway.
“Have a good evening,” Orana said with a soft smile and left Corinne to stand before the door with a thundering heart.
She forced air into her lungs, then out again, then knocked.
“Enter.”
Corinne stepped inside, her stomach dropping.
The Lightguards had rearranged the large room—four beds lay within, and two couches, but they had been shifted aside to make room for a semicircle of the Priestesses, resembling the Hall of Mothers.
Mother Creita sat in a chair directly ahead, Chala and Bria on the right and left of a folded rug in the center.
Vera stood by the window behind Mother Creita, her arms crossed and her expression stony.
The normal lanterns were lit in the room, but they’d found candles somewhere too, setting them out to form a more distinguished semicircle with the missing Priestess.
When Mother Creita beckoned her toward the room’s center, Corinne let the door shut behind her and forced her heavy feet to bring her forward.
Her instincts screamed at her to get as far away from that center rug as possible, recalling all too well what had happened the last time she’d been in such a position.
But there was no way they would punish her here, not when so many would hear her screams.
Doing her best to hide the trembling in her legs, Corinne removed her sword and knelt, placing the blade beside her.
“Corinne Anastos,” Mother Creita began. “We hoped not to be here again, but you have much to explain.”
“I’m here to beg your forgiveness,” Corinne said, her voice shaking. “And Helaera’s.”
Mother Creita and the two other Priestesses nodded. “Proceed, then.”
The tears came too easily, not entirely false. “They made me heal the burn early, Mother Creita. They insisted I attend the ball to keep watch over the prince, and he did not want the questions the scar would invite from all the attendees. I had no choice but to obey.”
The High Priestess’s expression softened somewhat, and some of Corinne’s fear melted away. “Very well. We’ll have to rectify that at some point, but I can understand it was forced upon you. Do you agree, my sisters?”
Priestess Chala and Priestess Bria looked to Corinne, then back to Mother Creita before nodding their approval. Corinne didn’t allow herself to dwell on her relief.
“And what have you to say about the participation in party activities?” Mother Creita asked. “I assume the attire was also forced upon you, but surely the dancing was not.”
Corinne let more tears fall. “It was for the prince’s protection, Mother Creita.
He and the king and queen don’t entirely trust some of the nobles.
We agreed I would intervene should any of those nobles try to get too close to the prince.
” She hung her head, allowing her shoulders to slump.
“It was all a farce, and I did it in the name of duty, but it was shameful nonetheless.”
Corinne didn’t dare lift her head as she waited for them to respond. Please. Please, Helaera above.
“Your contrition is admirable, Corinne,” Mother Creita said. “And as Helaera forgives her children, so we forgive our own as well.”
Corinne looked up, hardly able to breathe.
“While you remain here, if you continue to show the utmost devotion to your purpose, we will stay the reinstatement of your punishment and consider your penance fulfilled. But this is your last chance,” Mother Creita warned, standing from her chair and walking toward Corinne.
She took her chin in her fingers, lifting it, and Corinne fought the urge to recoil.
“Remember who you are, Corinne. You can still prove yourself to us and Helaera.”
“Thank you,” Corinne whispered, closing her eyes.
The High Priestess removed her hand and stepped away, and Corinne got to her feet.
Behind her, Vera wouldn’t meet her eyes, turning to face the window with her arms still crossed.
Vera had made it very clear to her that their friendship was over, but this displeasure with Corinne’s atonement sent another knife through her heart.
How had they ever been friends if a single mistake from Corinne could make Vera hate her so completely, abandon her without a flicker of remorse?
“Mother Creita, I have a question, if you’ll allow me to ask it,” Corinne said as the others rose from their chairs.
“Ask, child.”
Corinne swallowed. “The aid I requested we provide…was I out of line in asking for such a thing?”
Mother Creita pursed her lips. “Not out of line, precisely, but I’d hoped you would have known such tasks are not ones that should fall to us.
If we provide such services to the Crown, it may become too reliant upon us for things the royal family should do itself.
It diminishes our purpose and our reputation. ”
“Is it not a service to the people, rather than the Crown, Mother Creita?” Corinne asked, her brow furrowing. A bit of fear twisted behind her sternum as the High Priestess narrowed her eyes.
“We are here to protect and fortify the Boundary, and to provide basic protection to villages around Ashera,” Mother Creita said. “You would do well to spend more time in prayer, Corinne. Don’t lose sight of the path.”
Corinne nodded, and as she crossed her arms over her chest to bid them farewell, one thing became clear, settling into her bones.
She did not agree with Mother Creita. She and Vera had very different ideas about what mattered most in serving Helaera, in being a Lightguard.
You just want an excuse to be selfish and do what you wish.
Corinne let the dread and fear prickle through her chest and constrict her throat as the thoughts followed her out the door and down the corridor.
Perhaps it was true. Perhaps she had strayed and dishonored herself, but Helaera knew her heart, and that had to count for something.
She’d been prideful. She’d healed her burn. She’d pined after Aryel. She’d lied to the Lightguards. She’d kissed a man and might’ve done more. If she was damned, she was damned.
A fire within began to burn alongside the fear, a radical acceptance of her fate.