Chapter 48 #2
When she finally pushed the plate away from her, resting back in her chair, she had to stop herself from asking for seconds.
“That good, wasn’t it?”
Ciana jumped, eyes going wide as she met the king’s gaze across the table. She’ll admit; she’d forgotten he was there for a moment.
The food was that good.
Any embarrassment she might’ve felt was washed away by a happy haze of contentment, the flavors coursing through her system. She gave the king a genuine smile, taking a small sip of her wine. “That was probably the best meal I’ve ever had in my life.”
“I will be sure to give the chef your compliments.”
“Please do. Before I ask Mariah to steal him away and hire him in the kitchens in Verith.”
Nik chuckled. “I fear that might be enough to start a war.”
“A worthy one, though. It was nice knowing you, Your Majesty.”
They both laughed softly, warmth spreading through Ciana’s chest, settling in her cheeks. She held the king’s gaze, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the trimmed edges of his hair, the broad frame of his shoulders.
He really was quite nice to look at.
“Okay. My turn.” She set down her wine glass, leaning on the table. The mirror of how Niktael had been before dinner. “Tell me of your god. I want to know more about Ydros. That was him in here when I arrived, wasn’t it?”
Nik slowly nodded. “Yes. Yes, it was. I suppose I should’ve known you’d be able to guess, seeing as he’s not the first god you’ve encountered.”
“Once you’ve met one, you’ve met them all.” Ciana waved her hand. “But what’s he like? Is he kind, clever, trustworthy?”
A faint smile tugged at Niktael’s mouth. “Ydros is the God of Earth and Knowledge. He is, for lack of a better word, brilliant. He is quiet and reserved, and he’s curious about you and your queen, but that is what he was made to be. He is a scholar; it’s his purpose to wonder.”
Ciana cocked her head. “What’s his role in Vatha? Before he returned to this realm. Was he worshipped, the way we worship Qhohena and Priam?”
“We are a people of science and learning, Ciana,” Nik said.
“The only thing we worship is the earth beneath our feet and the knowledge it has to teach us. Ydros is recognized for what he is—the divine source of our magic and connection to the earth—but he is not worshiped in the way you might think. There are no temples to his honor, no statues in his likeness. He and his Consort generally stay out of the affairs of people.”
“His Consort?” Ciana asked, curiosity blooming in her chest. This must be the last god she hadn’t yet met, the last she knew nothing about.
“Krilene,” Nik said. “Goddess of Sea and War. I think the pirates of her Kizar Islands should tell you enough about how she chooses to interact with humanity. Though the records say she is the fiercest and most spiteful of the gods, so perhaps they are more like her than we realize.”
“She fought against the Scourge in the First War though, didn’t she? She and Ydros.” Ciana spun the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. “I think that’s all it takes for them to be good. Regardless of what else may drive them.”
Niktael’s eyes sparkled. “You know more about history than you let on, Lady Visseau.”
Her cheeks heated. “Mariah went through a frantic history researching phase last fall,” she said. “I read more dusty old texts and scrolls than I ever want to again.”
He chuckled. “You sure you’re still curious about our archives? I’m afraid it’s far worse than whatever your queen might’ve put you through.”
Ciana hesitated. The archives. There was something about them she wanted to say, wanted to ask…
Her mind was too hazy—too filled with satiated contentment. So, she only giggled, and shrugged, and took another sip of her wine.
The kitchen doors swung open, and the room swarmed once again with the servers and staff. Empty plates were swiped from the table as the silverware was replaced and glasses were filled. A server set a final plate down in front of her. Her weak protest about being full died in her throat.
“Dessert is served,” the chef said with a bow, before he and his staff again vanished into the rooms beyond.
Ciana picked up the small dessert spoon, slicing into the perfect circle of ice cream. Growing up near the desert, there was something so out of reach about ice cream. The few times in her life she’d had it, it had always been such a treat—a true delicacy.
When the spoon met her lips, when the tart flavors burst across her tongue, she realized this wasn’t ice cream; not quite.
She lifted her gaze, eyes wide, to Nik. “What is this?”
He smiled, tasting his own dessert and humming. “Passion fruit sorbet,” he said. There was something hesitant and tentative in his expression. “Do you not like it? I can ask the chef to prepare you something else—”
“No!” Warmth again hit Ciana’s cheeks. “No,” she repeated. “That’s not what I meant. It’s delicious. I just thought it was ice cream, but it’s definitely not.”
Nik chuckled. “Not ice cream,” he agreed. “But in my opinion, it’s better.”
Ciana wasn’t sure about that, but she wasn’t about to disagree with a king at his own table. She smiled and nodded, returning her attention to the bowl of sorbet.
A few moments passed again in silence, and the more Ciana ate of the sorbet she began to think that maybe the king was right. Maybe it was better than ice cream. It was sweet and tart and light, and the way it made her tingle from her ears all the way to her fingers—
“Ciana,” Nik said quietly when she finally set her spoon on the table, relaxing in her chair with a contented sigh. “You know why the gods are back, don’t you? You know what woke them up.”
Ciana’s eyes fluttered closed. “I do.” But that was such a sad story, and she felt so wonderful. She didn’t want to talk about all that.
The king was insistent. “Can you tell me?”
“All right,” she said, opening her eyes to meet his inquisitive ones across the table.
“They’re back because Kol—or the Scourge, or Flétrir, or whatever name Vatha has for the demon god of Enfara—got Mariah to shift.
Oh, Mariah can shift, by the way. Into a dragon.
Like how I’m assuming Ydros can.” She took a small sip of wine.
“Long ago, at the end of the First War, the gods locked Kol away with a spell that would hold as long as they didn’t return.
But Qhohena, without telling any of the other gods, gave her grace to the first Onitan Queen.
I guess to keep her from being tempted to return and free her sister. ”
Nik’s eyes were wide, his jaw slack. “To the Onitan Queen…” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “That’s why your queens have always had such long lives and unique magic, isn’t it?”
Ciana nodded and winked. “Nailed it, Your Majesty.” She took another sip of wine.
“But what does that have to do with the other gods returning?”
“Right. Yes.” She set down her glass. “So, since Mariah, as the new queen, has Qhohena’s grace—or godhood, I guess—she had the power to shift.
But once she did, the god’s spell treated that as one of them returning to the earth, which broke Kol’s prison in Enfara.
He was able to return, but I suppose the impact of the spell breaking woke the rest of the gods, too. ”
“Wait,” Nik interjected, “so the dark god is back? He escaped Enfara?”
Ciana nodded solemnly. “Yes. Mariah fought him. Apparently, he’s a real shithead.”
Nik thumped back in his seat, shock written across his face. He muttered a word, some curse in a language Ciana didn’t know. “And your queen is who freed him?”
Ciana shifted, something warm blooming in the pit of her stomach. “Not on purpose,” she said. “Kol murdered her mother in front of her. She lost control. He’s free, but it wasn’t her fault.”
“Of course, Ciana.” Nik leaned forward suddenly, his shock and confusion clearing. “That’s not what I meant. This is all just very…surprising. And troubling. The First War was a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean it’s dark stain on history has been forgotten.”
Ciana relaxed. “You’re right.” She paused, her full stomach and the buzz of wine giving her a new-found sort of courage. “That’s why I’m here. No place on the continent has knowledge like the Vathan Archives. What if there’s a way to defeat Kol once and for all somewhere in its rows?”
Nik lifted a brow. “And here I was, thinking you were here to grow the diplomatic relationships between our two nations.”
Ciana shrugged. “Can a girl not be in a place for more than one thing?”
“I will concede to you there,” Nik said, chuckling. He rose from the table, Ciana following his lead. The king circled the carved tree trunk, offering her his hand. “I fear I’ve kept you quite late. May I accompany you back to your rooms? Before your Armature companion gets too worried.”
Ciana grinned, taking the king’s hand. The moment her skin touched his, though, her exhaustion slammed into her like a tidal wave, a rush of tiredness that made her want to collapse right back into her chair and go straight to sleep.
“That would be—” A yawn shuddered through her. She blinked up at the king, embarrassment twinging. “That would be lovely,” she finished.
He thankfully only gave her a warm smile, and before she knew it, he was leading her through the beautiful, flower-laden palace. It was a blur, a dream-like haze, but somehow she was suddenly outside her rooms, staring up at a pair of concerned hazel eyes.
“Ciana? Are you okay—”
“I’m fine, Sebastian,” she said sleepily, yawning again. “I just had the best meal of my life and am exhausted.”
The king laughed again. Ciana liked the sound of his laugh. She turned to him, grinning as he raised her hand to his lips. They brushed her skin, soft as a feather, a barely there kiss. “Thank you for the lovely evening, Lady Ciana. I look forward to the next.”
“I do as well, Nik.” Warmth blossomed in her chest, spreading up her cheeks, and for a moment she thought she truly meant her words.
With a final, lingering glance, the king left them, his proud frame striding confidently down the hall and disappearing around the corner.
There was a brief pause, a thick silence. “Ciana—”
Ciana ignored Sebastian, stumbling into her rooms. She made for her bed, not even bothering to remove her dress or shoes, and collapsed amongst the down comforter and silk sheets.
The deepest, most dreamless slumber of her life found her quickly, wrapping around her mind and sweeping her away.