Chapter 10
There is more power in Beauty than most understand.
Before I was the Goddess of Death, before I held the Godhood of Endings, I held the Godhood of Desire.
It was Desire that conquered Endings, darling.
Not the other way around. Remember this as I imbue you with its powers.
Remember that Beauty and seduction can be far more terrifying than Death, and it is always more memorable.
~Conversations between Lysara and the Prince of Bones
Fiona
I don’t have time to be afraid as we appear in the center of a luxurious bedroom lit by the orange glow of candles and the silver of the moonlight streaming from a window.
I turn to him and snarl as I draw my daggers from their sheaths. “Not willing to break the rules of Nyxthos? Had to take me out of the Great Hall to get your revenge for stealing from you?”
His expression doesn’t fit the atmosphere.
I’m ready to fight, and he looks like he’d be more worried about a stain on his coat.
“My revenge? Darling, if I were so bothered by the theft, I would have caught you before you left the outskirts of Averna. Instead, I made sure you had a peaceful stroll. Did you notice that not even the Mindless interfered with your leaving? Wasn’t that strangely convenient? ”
I pause. A shadow climbs my body to slowly caress my cheek, and I pull away from it.
Disgust fills my mind, but as I stare at the Prince of Bones, I can’t help the pounding in my chest that is decidedly not because of fear or revulsion.
I remind myself that he’s the Champion of Beauty as well as Death.
Every bit of desire I feel toward him is because of those powers, and it has no basis in reality.
Still, when he takes a step toward me, I can’t seem to convince my body to move.
His blood-red nails run down my cheek achingly slowly as he stares into my eyes, leaving a trail of goosebumps and making my heart beat even faster.
The shadows that glide through the air from him to me find every inch of uncovered skin, a soft mist on a warm night.
“How did you know I couldn’t shadow walk out of Averna?” I finally ask.
“I didn’t. But I do now,” he says with a smirk. The bastard. The knowledge that I’ve given up a secret of the Order already fills me with a combination of anger and shame, and it’s enough to pull away from the seduction he’s weaving around me.
I reach out my hand in anger, and his eyebrow arches, the smirk never fading.
Dragonfire erupts from my fingertips, but this time, instead of flowing in a stream of power that can incinerate nearly anything in Nyth, it just floats in front of me as if encased in bubbles.
Little baubles of destruction I now have absolutely no control over.
His father is the King of Flames, and he has far more control over them than I do.
“Now, now, little Priestess. If you want to play rough in a few minutes, I’ll be more than happy to show you just how much fun that can be.
” A shadow crawls up my leg and sensuously slips under my tunic.
Instinct tells me to pull away from it, to use my Mark of the Lantern, a power he has no control of, to defend myself from the invasion.
Instead, I do my best to remain calm. How many secrets am I willing to give up to the Prince of Bones in this confrontation? I can ignore his shadowed touch.
His smirk turns into a smile as he gestures to two chairs. He snaps his fingers and the bubbles of flame disappear as if I hadn’t just tried to incinerate him. I look from him to the chairs and grit my teeth. It doesn’t look like I have a choice, so I sit down.
“What do you want from me?” I ask.
He leans back in the chair. “Now, why do you think I want something from you? Couldn’t I just be interested in why a little Priestess is competing to become Nyxthos’s champion?”
“I’m here for the same reason all the other competitors are. To become an ally to my kingdom.”
He shakes his head slowly. “Maybe. But no Priests attended the previous trials. And you are… well, you’re a Priestess.
That is interesting all on its own. Has your Order become more accepting?
Or just more desperate? Did old Rhaskar finally realize that women are for more than breeding and cooking? ”
I want to snarl at his remarks about my father, but I know he’s goading me into revealing more information than I should. Instead, I stay silent and do my best to remain unbothered by his words.
He sighs. “Well, I do actually need something from you, little Priestess. I need you to not die.”
It’s my turn to arch an eyebrow at him. “Why do you care if I die or not?”
There’s a soft silence that grows louder by the second as we stare at each other.
I can’t help but think about the way he looks, about the way his body, those crimson nails, and more than anything, his lips draw me to them.
I can’t stop my heart from pounding or the throbbing between my legs at the thought of his touch.
This time, though, I don’t give in to the physical reactions.
I maintain my clear-headedness and silence.
He sighs again, but this time his smile is wider.
“I need someone to win these trials who is amenable to a less miserable existence for everyone. I assume that a little Priestess like yourself would prefer we all stop killing each other for at least a little bit?”
Peace? Is that even possible? “Why me? I’m sure everyone in this building would prefer the war to stop. Doesn’t everyone prefer peace to eternal war? Who wants to risk their life every day for eighty years?”
He chuckles. “No, darling. Everyone in this building, other than you and my Aunt Ainslee’s people, is perfectly happy with the status quo.
War is peace for us. We fight and die on the battlefields, but as part of the Pact, everyone but the champions are brought back to life after each battle.
Even the human foot soldiers have been given the tiniest bit of power to connect them to their gods.
It’s a process called Returning. Everyone who was wrapped into the Pact has their souls shoved back into their broken bodies and healed.
A month later, they’re back on Nyth and ready to fight again. ”
His lips curl into a smile, and he leans back in his chair.
“It wouldn’t serve to train anyone if, after they died, their gods would need new recruits.
The only ones who permanently die are the ones who haven’t been imbued.
Well, them and the dragons, since even gods have a hard time resurrecting dragons. No dragons have died, thankfully.”
I blink. No wonder they’ve never run out of soldiers. “Then why didn’t you all crush Sylvantia with your endless troops?”
His smile widens. “See, that’s where you come in. You, little Priestess, aren’t part of the Pact. When a human kills one of the Godforged, they stay dead. Even the gods are fallible, and they made a mistake not considering the Kingdom of Sylvantia in their Pact. Rhaskar Thorne surprised everyone.
“The gods’ armies could have crushed you a few years after the Pact, but too many lives were lost without the ability to Return them.
Instead of having their souls shoved back into their bodies and healed, they were lost to the Void.
We left you alone unless we needed something from you, which happens from time to time. ”
Is that why we survived? Initially, I’d taken him at his word, but now I wonder if this is all just a lie to manipulate me.
My father’s words echo through me. Don’t forget that you can’t trust any of them.
The only time I ever trusted a Fae, she ruined this world.
They will always put themselves and their agendas before anything else. Including you.
“So you want me to kill people in the trials?”
He shakes his head. “I want you to win. You weren’t part of the Pact.
You do not belong to any of the kingdoms that agreed to eternal life.
Even if you’re made Nyxthos’s champion, you were still born to the Kingdom of Sylvantia, a very important distinction.
If you kill people as Nyxthos’s champion, they won’t come back.
Instead of helping to train soldiers, you will eliminate them, and not even the gods want that. ”
“Then why would Nyxthos accept me as his champion? Why not just kill me now?”
He crosses one leg over the other and seems to get a little more comfortable.
Gods, he is beautiful. “Because he can’t.
No god can interfere in their champion trials as part of the Pact, and while you weren’t part of the Pact, his trials certainly were.
The gods may be incredibly powerful, but they don’t work together well.
To force all of them to work toward their mutual benefit rather than their own, they created very strict rules as to what they are and aren’t allowed to do.
They all made magical oaths that day, and if they were to break them, the godhood which resides within them and gives them the powers they have may decide to look for another host.”
“So he’s just going to let me win?” There’s no way something as powerful as a god can be forced into anything.
“He has to. He won’t tell the other gods what you are, so their decisions aren’t based on his influence.
It’s a tricky game he has to play. He wants you to die, but he can’t, in any way, make that happen.
He’ll know almost everything about you, including that you’re a Priestess.
That doesn’t really change anything, though.
As I said, no one wants to lose troops, especially after Saelira gave her prophecy.
Your people and lands will be safe even if your secrets may not be. ”
I frown. It’s just like my father said. I’m already giving up the secrets of the Order to the enemy. Hadn’t Azric told Ainslee the complete opposite?