Chapter 10 #2
The image of Lisabel Salis’s bloodied and brutalized body, lying discarded amongst the rubble, flashed through Anniliese’s mind just as she processed the silence of the room behind her.
Inside her mind, she tensed. No more moans or groans or growls or grunts. Not even a softly spoken voice; just a quiet rustle, the sound of clothing being gathered and slid back over bodies.
It was just enough warning before the door swung open and Ksee breezed past her, cheeks flushed, hair thrown into a hastily secured coil atop her head. The High Priestess sneered coldly, adjusting her pale robes.
“Let’s go, Priestess.”
“No.” Kol’s voice rumbled behind Anniliese. He appeared at her side, buttoning the final clasps on his shirt. “I wish to speak with her.”
Ksee bowed her head. “Of course, Your Excellence—”
“Alone, Ksee. You may go.”
Ksee blinked in shock. “Of…of course, Your Excellence.” She turned, casting one final glower at Anniliese as she breezed from the room.
A dark humor again filled Anniliese. That priestess loved pretending to be superior, but she could never say no to the command of a powerful man.
Kol slowly slid his burning gaze to her, and Anniliese’s streak of delight vanished in a puff of smoke. His gaze seared into her cheek, the side of her face. She felt far too exposed. Too vulnerable. Nothing more than a lamb placed before a dragon.
Kol was silent for a long moment. An uncomfortable moment. The longer the silence dragged on, the more Anniliese began to twitch and squirm within her imprisoned flesh.
What if his words to Shawth were nothing more than that: words? What if he’d protected her from Shawth only because he wanted her unspoiled for himself?
Anniliese whimpered.
Kol softly cleared his throat. The sound was almost human.
“Come.” He strode toward the comfortable sofas in the sitting room. He folded himself into the suede, gesturing to a wide chair across from him. “Sit.”
Anniliese’s legs moved, though she gave them no command to do so. She watched, little more than a passenger, as her body settled into the chair, primly resting her hands on the coarse wool of her white robes.
Kol watched her, something hidden and masked in his fiery eyes.
“Anniliese,” he said slowly, drawing out the syllables of her name. “I want to have a true conversation with you. If I clear the effects of the uxosil from your system, will you agree to stay and speak with me?” He paused. “You may answer.”
The tethers around Anniliese’s mind loosened. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I will stay.” As if I have much of a choice. Can’t very well refuse the request of a god, no matter how dark.
Kol nodded, smiling slightly. “Good.” He lifted a finger, and she gasped.
The uxosil fell away, her body flooding back to her. It was staggering and overwhelming and intoxicating all at once. Anniliese doubled over, and a sob wracked through her, arms and legs trembling and unsteady even as she sank deeper into the plush comfort of the chair.
She stayed there, folded over herself, the world tumbling and buzzing around her.
Eventually—she had no idea if it had been minutes or seconds or hours—her surroundings stopped wavering, her body beginning to feel more familiar and like her own.
Anniliese lifted her head, only to blink in surprise at Kol standing above her, watching her with that same curious mask.
In his hand was a glass of water. He offered it to her, his movements slow, as if she were some damaged, frightened animal that might flee at the first sign of movement.
Anniliese sniffed, wiping her face. Wetness smeared across her cheeks, though she didn’t remember the tears falling. She slowly straightened her spine, meeting the god’s bright stare.
She was Anniliese of House Hareth, the only heir to an ancient bloodline. No matter what they took from her or how they tried to break her, she was no animal. She was a lady of Onita, and she could swallow her fears and behave like one.
She took the offered glass, quelling the tremors in her hand as she raised it to her lips and took a tentative sip.
Cold. Fresh. Untainted by the bitter taste of uxosil. Relief settled in her as she set the glass down on the table beside her, straightening her spine.
“I am going to command Ksee to stop giving you the uxosil.”
Anniliese met Kol’s gaze, doing her best to mask her shock. “Why?”
“Because I don’t think you need it. I think you understand the nature of your situation here and are smart enough not to test it. Am I correct?”
Anniliese hesitated, trying to unravel his words, before slowly nodding. He was right. She knew all too well the realities of her new life. It would serve her no good to try to break from it.
Kol smiled and returned to his seat, crossing one ankle over his knee in a sprawling, relaxed pose.
“I must say,” he started, “you are certainly a surprise.”
Anniliese arched a delicate brow. “A surprise, My Lord?”
Kol nodded. “I knew Ksee kept priestesses in her service. I knew those priestesses were all magic wielders,” he said.
“But it never occurred to me that there might be some of the noble class.” He smirked.
“Though I suppose there’s a reason for that, isn’t there? And that makes you quite the enigma.”
Anniliese was silent. At this moment, lounging on a couch in a resplendent room, fire roaring in the hearth beside him, the god looked so normal. Mundane. Mortal, even. Those dark whispers of shadow she knew lurked within him were gone, and even the red of his eyes appeared more muted.
Kol tapped a finger on the back of the couch. “Tell me about your life before this, Anniliese. What was it like to be a Royal Lady of Onita?”
Anniliese swallowed, toying with the fabric of her robes. “It was…” She fell silent again, thinking.
What was it like to be a Royal lady? What had been the purpose of her life, even when she’d thought she was destined for the throne?
“It was boring,” she finished. Kol cocked his head, interested.
She continued, “I was the only female Royal born around the time Ryenne announced to the nobles that she’d undergone the abdication.
Because it had been many millennia since a non-Royal was Chosen as queen, it was all but assumed by the Royal families that I was to be Ryenne’s successor.
” Anniliese turned her gaze to the fire, watching the flickering embers.
Her own flames, the ones that lived inside her soul, tremored in response.
“I received the finest education. I was taught to read and sing and dance and speak, how to be surrounded by powerful men and abide by their council. I was taught how to address a nation, how to negotiate with merchants. But most importantly, I was taught how to be quiet and let those who knew more than me—who would always know more than me, regardless of how long my life spanned—take control.”
Anniliese took a breath, steeling herself.
“Of course, when the Choosing came and went and I wasn’t Chosen, none of that training and schooling mattered.
The Goddess decided to name a common-born girl from Andburgh as next in line to the throne, and I was sent back to Ettervan with nothing except the disappointment of my entire family. ”
“You are the only heir to your house, are you not?” Kol asked quietly. “If you’d been Chosen as queen, your family’s line would’ve ended. Qhohena’s Queen cannot bear children.”
“I know.” Anniliese nodded “But that was something my family was willing to accept. After all, there would be no greater honor than knowing your house went extinct only because its last surviving member was sitting on the throne.” She looked at her hands.
“But with that honor no longer a possibility, my usefulness to my father was reduced to my ability to produce a viable heir.”
Kol was silent for a beat, fidgeting with the suede of the couch. “Could he not remarry?”
Anniliese shrugged. “I suppose. But marrying me to a powerful ally was easier.”
“But now that is not a possibility for him, either.”
“No. It’s not.” Anniliese almost chuckled at it all, a surge of grim humor washing through her. She’d never been one to laugh at the darker parts of life; it was not proper, not polite.
But with all that had happened, she found it easier to seek amusement from painful things. There was no other source of happiness around her now, anyway.
“I suppose that’s why he hasn’t spoken to me since…this happened.” She gestured at her robes. “He knows I’m still here. He knows Ksee claimed me. But I failed him a second time, and in his mind he would rather let his house die with him than acknowledge a priestess as a daughter.”
The silence was broken only by the occasional crackle of the flames. It was not an uncomfortable silence, but it did grow heavy as Kol watched her, his lips parted and his deep red eyes soft with his thoughts.
“Tell me about the night you got your magic,” he finally said.
Anniliese tensed. She’d witnessed the confrontation between him and Mariah. Had seen his demon henchman slice the throat of her mother, had watched the callous way he’d mentioned her sacrifice.
But he’d asked her for honesty, so she would give it. She was already trapped in hell; how much worse could it get?
So much worse, and you know it.
She ignored the nagging voice in her mind.
“It was the night of your return,” she began quietly. His eyes blazed for a moment then dulled again. “I was scared. Something drew me to the gardens, even though they were nothing more than a smoking ruin.” They still were, but efforts to restore them were well underway.
“Everything was ash and blood. Some embers still burned, the dragonfire not quite gone out. I walked through the rubble until I came upon the platform. The one where the Salis family was held.”
A muscle flickered in Kol’s jaw. Anniliese forged ahead.