Page 5 of The Half King
“In my vision,” the Reverend Mother whispered, “you were seated at a desk in the palace, studying the notes and the journal entries left behind for you by the former emissary. You were learning her role—quite dutifully, I might add.”
Cerise waited to hear more, but apparently, that was the end of it. She tried her best to hide her disappointment. She had hoped the vision would reveal something exciting, or at the very least help her understand why this “narrow path” intersected with hers.
“Is that all I’m meant to do, Your Grace?” she asked. “Is that my only role in breaking the curses? Being an emissary?”
“Is thatall?” the Reverend Mother repeated, leveling her with a glare. “Have you taken leave of your senses?”
Oh, no. She’d said the wrong thing. Again.
“Have you forgotten your lessons?” the Reverend Mother went on. “Every element of a path—down to a singular insect—is critical to its outcome. We may not understand the insect’s role until the future comes to pass. A hornet might sting a beast and spur the animal into a hunter’s range, providing nourishment, sustaining the journey of dozens of men who might have otherwise starved. Your duties as emissary may lead you to uncover a critical detail, make a new ally, or inspire a discovery that results in breaking the curses. Whatever your role may be, it is no more—and no less—important than that of the hornet. So how dare you ask meis that all?”
The fire of ten suns blazed in Cerise’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I didn’t mean it like—”
“Oh, save your excuses. You infuriate me.”
The last thing Cerise wanted to do was ask another question. But there was no alternative. She raised her hand like a youngling seeking permission to visit the privy…and hated herself for it. If she only had the Sight, she would know the answers.
“Please, Your Grace,” she said.
“What is it now?”
“May I ask what I would be expected to do as emissary?”
The Reverend Mother nodded. “Nothing beyond your scope. Your duties will include attending meetings with the king, advising him on matters of faith, and representing your goddess properly by conducting yourself as a lady of the temple.”
That didn’t help to clarify the role. Cerise couldn’t visualize any of her proposed duties except for the last one. She knew how to behave like a lady, at least most of the time.
“So?” the Reverend Mother asked. “Do you accept?”
Cerise pushed down the fear that had risen in her chest. She couldn’t possibly sayno, not if there was a chance, however slim, that her role at court could end a thousand years of suffering. She had no idea how to be an emissary, but her predecessor had left behind notes and journal entries to guide her. That was a start.
“Yes, Your Grace,” she said.
“Good. There is one other thing.” The Reverend Mother leaned closer. “In my vision, I sensed enemies of the goddess—nameless, faceless men who serve false idols. It may not be easy to tell them apart, so be careful who you trust. And even within…” She cut off, seeming to consider her words.
“Even within…?” Cerise prompted.
“Even within our own Order,” she whispered, her voice barely discernible, “there are overzealous servants of the goddess who believe that suffering is the only path to atonement. They may not want the suffering to end for the noble houses. The vision was fractured, incomplete. I could not discern what the goddess’s will is in this, only that there is a chance. We must protect this fragile thing. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Cerise didn’t need the Sight to know exactly what kind of priest the Reverend Mother was describing. Most priests were calm and gentle. Then there were others—men with sharp, cold gazes who seemed to enjoy nothing more than catching a novice breaking a rule. She already did her best to avoid those men. And until the will of the goddess was clear, it was her sacred duty to protect the vision, much like a rabbit kit in her palm.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Keep the revelation to yourself,” the Reverend Mother said, “until you know who your allies are.”
“Yes, Your Grace. When do I leave?”
“At once. I will order a carriage to take you to the harbor. The journey to Mortara will last several days, and there’s not a moment to waste. Go and say goodbye to your family. I’ll fetch a team of servants to help you pack.”
At once?Cerise reeled. This was happening too quickly.
In a daze, she returned to the garden room to share the news with her family. She barely registered what she told them. When she had finished speaking, no one replied. Her parents sat frozen with their lips parted. Nina’s expression was hidden by her veil, but she had gone unnaturally still, too. Cerise understood their shock—she felt it herself—but she had expected a hint of excitement from her family, or at least pride in her sudden rise in station.
“I know I don’t deserve it,” she said. “But to serve at court is a great honor.”
Her mother blinked as if waking from a dream. “Oh, my dear, of course you deserve this honor and a thousand more. The king would be lucky to have you. We’re just…”
“Concerned,” Father finished.
