Page 120 of The Half King
“You don’t get to say that,” she told him. “I was the one who had to watch her die, not you. I’m the one who loved her, not you. Don’t talk to me about trading places with her when you took that choice away from me.”
“Cerise,” Delora interjected from behind her.
“No, it’s fine,” Kian said, but that wasn’t true. His color had dulled, his throat shifting as he tried to swallow. “Padron lied to you, Cerise. You have to know that. You and Nina were the living proof of his darkest secret. He could only erase that secret by erasing both of you. If you had surrendered, he would have killed Nina anyway. Two would have died instead of one, and you wouldn’t have broken the curse or driven him into hiding or defeated the Order. You wouldn’t have survived to save us all.”
A small voice told Cerise that he was right. Father Padron hadn’t kept his promise to Cole, and he wouldn’t have kept his promise to her. But the wound was too fresh and the grief too intense. She had to let some of it out. She hardened her gaze and told him, “At least you don’t command me anymore.”
Pain flashed in Kian’s eyes, but it didn’t take away from hers. If anything, the pressure in her chest only compounded from knowing she had hurt him. He seemed to shrink in the moment before he turned away from her. He reached into his pocket and bent low over Nina’s head. She didn’t understand what he was doing until she heard asnip, and then she watched him tuck a chestnut curl of hair inside an oval locket that dangled from a fine golden chain.
Still facing away, he handed her the necklace. “This belonged to my mother. I thought you might like to have it. Now a part of Nina will always be with you.”
Cerise stared at the locket while shame leaked from her eyes. She had hurt Kian—on purpose—and in return, he had given her a keepsake from his own mother. How quickly she had forgotten that he’d lost a mother, too—and at the hands of Father Padron.
“Thank you.” Cerise let her touch linger when she accepted his gift, prompting him to look at her. There was no need for words when their eyes met. They exchanged apologies in a single glance, each of them understanding the other. He was sorry for her loss but didn’t regret compelling her to survive. She was sorry for blaming him but wasn’t ready to admit that nothing could have saved Nina. So for now, they made peace.
“You’re welcome,” he told her.
He moved aside so she could say goodbye.
Cerise closed her eyes. She decided not to remember Nina like this, with her cheeks colorless and her exquisite face frozen in death. After everything that Father Padron had stolen from her, she refused to let him taint her memory of Nina, too. She summoned the image that she treasured most: the smiling, bright-eyed Nina who loved fiercely. That washerNina, the secret side of the veiled beauty that few had seen and no one could take away.
“Goodbye, Nina,” she said. “Thank you for loving me.”
She felt blindly for Nina’s veil and lowered it for the very last time. And then she finally confronted the task she had been avoiding. She rose onto her knees, lifted her face to the ceiling, and recited the prayer for the departed.
“Mother Shiera, mistress of worlds,” Cerise called out as loudly and as clearly as her tear-roughened voice would allow. “Please welcome your servant Nina into your arms and grant her mercy for any offenses she committed against you.” A fresh sob squeezed her windpipe. The prayer was complete, but deep in her chest, she felt the swelling of words left unsaid, a pressure that would not be contained. And so she broke with tradition and pleaded with the goddess from her heart.
“I know that darkness is as sacred as the light. I know that pain is as necessary as pleasure. I know that many of your faithful servants have died in ways that were cruel and unfair. But not like this. Nina was the best of your daughters. She was strong and loyal and kind—a woman made in the image of a mighty goddess—and her life was taken by a man. And not simply a man, but an unholy, undeserving priest who resented her flame as much as the priests of a thousand years ago resented yours. That man didn’t deserve to stand in Nina’s warmth, let alone to steal it. Don’t let him win. Let there be justice for Nina. That is what I ask of you.”
“I ask it as well,” Kian murmured and clasped her hand.
“As do I,” Delora said.
Cerise wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She didn’t know which side of Shiera might be listening that day. In mercy or in wrath, she only hoped her prayer had been heard.
34
Because there was no one left to scold her, Cerise dressed for the day in a gauzy linen tunic and leggings and then gathered her hair at the nape of her neck in a plain braid that was more befitting of a lady’s maid than a lady of the temple. She didn’t care. She was the high priestess of Shiera now, and she could do as she pleased. She wasn’t going back to the temple—not now, not ever—and to prove it, she pulled her black-and-white gowns from the closet and tossed them off the balcony. When the last dress had flittered over the railing, she donned a pair of sandals and returned to the sanctuary to see if Blue was awake.
She tried to stop her gaze from wandering to the empty spot inside the prayer room where Nina’s body had lain, but naturally that was the first place she looked. A deep throb was her punishment. The floor tiles were scrubbed to a high shine, all traces of fire and death removed. The sanctuary looked the same as ever, aside from the missing curtains…and the presence of a massive dog snoring in the middle of the room.
She knelt down next to Blue. Settling a hand on his head, she willed him to wake slowly, for his mind to stir and his body to rest. As her magic passed over him, his snores quieted and his eyelids fluttered. Blue opened and closed his eyes several times before he blinked alert and sharpened his gaze. He peered first at the floor and the walls as if to orient himself. When he eventually focused on her face, his stumpy tail wagged in athump thump thumpagainst the tile.
She smiled. “Feeling better?”
The thumping quickened.
“Good. Let’s get you on your feet.” She awoke the rest of him and warned, “Slowly, now. Don’t jump—”
Instantly, he leaped to his enormous paws and shook out his pelt. He arched his back in a stretch and then bounced in excitement as if waiting for her to throw a stick. She laughed and pressed a silencing hand over her mouth. It seemed too soon for laughter, almost like a betrayal. But her ribs continued to quake, and each chuckle released so much pressure from her chest that she refused to hold it back. She ruffled Blue’s head and laughed until her stomach hurt. Then Blue’s own stomach rumbled loud enough to quake the ground.
“Healing is hard work. No wonder you’re hungry. Come on,” she said, standing. “If we hurry, there might be leftover sausages from breakfast.”
She crossed the threshold into the open-air corridor and found a palace guard waiting for her there, scratching his jaw and peering into the sanctuary as if he didn’t know whether or not he was allowed inside now that the priests were gone.
“My lady,” he greeted. “Or should I sayYour Grace?”
Cerise shook her head. She refused to be calledYour Grace. It reminded her too much of Father Padron or the Reverend Mother. “My ladywill suffice.”
