Chapter 45
XLV.
Torren
Zel is gone, but I have bigger issues than a servant girl right now. I’m busy facing off with the High Priestess of the temple of truth.
All five-three of her is draped in a silk-and-crepe dinner dress, but she is anything other than soft and delicate. Kerasea stares at me, the embodiment of power and resolve.
“You just impeded my investigation.” I state the obvious to break the silence in the chamber.
“Bring me before the Senate, then,” she says.
She doesn’t shrug, but the sentiment is in her voice. She has no regret, no nerves or shyness. I am staring at a woman who is very much a leader in the republic—not the girl she played at being during this conclave with her blushes and sighs.
I don’t know whether to respect her or be furious, but I’m glad we have dropped the pretenses.
I glance at the door. I could run after Zel and still overtake her, but the truth is, I don’t want to.
I wasn’t looking forward to questioning her under pressure.
However, the evidence I found was too much to ignore.
I would’ve done my duty despite my reservations, but now I have to handle the High Priestess.
A rush of excitement flows through me, and I recognize the rare feeling—it’s meeting a worthy opponent in the ring.
I decide to shift into a more conversational stance, letting my shoulders relax while I choose my next move.
“The priests to the god of protection will intercept the girl and bring her back,” I say. “No one is to come or go from the conclave.”
“I didn’t send her to the capital,” the High Priestess responds.
“Where did you…”
I trail off and think about where else she would’ve told Zel to go. It would have to be somewhere out of my reach, somewhere Kerasea holds sway. There are multiple temples of truth in every province, but Zel would still run into the same issue of leaving the conclave…unless she didn’t leave.
“The divining room,” I say.
She nods, respect glimmering in her eyes.
The tower is technically an offshoot of her temple. It’s based on a thin reasoning, but the Senate and the Ministry of Justice would side with her if I tried to take the girl from holy ground.
Let it never be said that Kerasea Vestal isn’t clever.
Amusement fills my chest, and the corners of my lips rise. I force the smile from my face. I shouldn’t feel this. I shouldn’t be anything other than furious that she stymied my investigation and broke our alliance over a servant girl.
“Who is Zel to you?” I ask.
This time she does shrug. “An innocent girl.”
I have no choice but to respect that. It’s the same as I feel about the cook, only I didn’t expect Kerasea to have a sense of justice and certainly not feel a sense of obligation to a servant.
I don’t know many nobles who would. But is Zel innocent?
I still have the book in my hand. Kerasea is correct in that all of this is too much evidence to have in one room.
If Zel were actually responsible, these items should’ve been burned, disposed of, like the bodies.
They were saved specifically to implicate a suspect, but it is still my duty to investigate.
“One could assume these effects to be yours, if that is the case,” I say.
Kerasea arches an eyebrow. “Go to the Senate with that, Praetorian.”
She knows that this is not nearly enough—even if I found these items on her person, the Senate would not break un exorum. There’s no proof anymore that Eyo was even poisoned, and I said Antinous had died accidentally. No, they’d censure me for looking into her affairs without permission.
“Someone else was staying here,” Kerasea says. She turns hesitant as she glances around the room.
I nod. “Undoubtedly.”
Kerasea’s brow knits. “You know that, yet you were going to torture her?”
She can’t hide the disdain in her voice. But there are those who get their hands dirty and those who can wring their hands over the manner in which they are kept clean.
“I was going to lock her up with minimal food until she gave me the identity. Call it torture if you like, but plenty of citizens in the Northside live worse than what I’d subject her to for a short amount of time.”
The High Priestess stares at me and then shakes her head. “Your reputation is deserved.”
Her condescending tone makes something inside me snap. How dare she sit swaddled in luxury and judge me.
She holds still, even as I storm closer. Anger propels me, molten in my chest.
“It must be so easy to cast judgments down from your golden palanquin.” My voice rumbles through my locked jaw.
Her mouth opens in outrage, and then she shuts it and breathes out a laugh. “You think it’s easy for me?”
“I think you’ve never known a hard day in your life. Nor would you know what to do with one.”
“You don’t know a thing about me.” She holds her body rigid, her chin high even as I stand a breath away from her.
“I do know you, Kerasea. I have for years. Cross me again and, innocent or not, I’ll bring you down from on high. I swear it on the five gods.”
She narrows her eyes slightly. “You won’t ever see me on my knees, Praetorian.”
That smug mouth.
She’s too close, and the image she painted in my mind is too vivid. I look at her face, and all I see are her perfect lips. All I can think about is how I want to taste her.
I reach out and grab the side of her face. This time not the gentle way I lifted her chin before, but something else entirely. Surprise lights her eyes, but then they grow heavy-lidded in desire.
“I will see you on your knees, Kerasea,” I say.
Her eyes widen, and then she smirks. “You first.”
The pull toward her feels as natural as falling. I lean down and press my lips against hers.