Page 9 of Godbound
It’s late into the night, but sleep remains elusive. Every time I close my eyes, I see the Archpriest thrash, hear his screams cut off mid-breath.
I sink lower beneath the cooling water, willing it to cleanse my mind for the hundredth time, to wash the images away. But my thoughts circle, relentless as vultures.
With the Archpriest gone, the Churches would fight for control, each vying to place their own leader in his seat. A small, selfish part of me dares to hope that maybe, just maybe, the new Archpriest or Archpriestess would at last unseal the records that reveal the identity of the Chastity Warden who lashed my mother.
But what if Thul'Barak gained dominance? The last time his Archpriest ruled, centuries ago, slavery was still legal, and every king who opposed Thul'Barak’s teachings mysteriously fell ill, dropping like flies, one after another. In the end, he relieved the royals of their crown altogether and seized power for himself.
And even though the Partition Decree should protect Ryker’s position from any new Archpriest or Archpriestess, the thought still unsettles me.
A cold weight settles in my stomach as my mind races through every grim possibility. The only thing worse than the evil we know isthe uncertainty of the one yet to come, and the god they might serve. Whoever ascended could either bolster Ryker’s reign or oppose him at every turn, especially if they shared the former Archpriest’s hatred for the cursed.
I wish I had paid more attention in my classes, when the High Priests, the heads of each Church, taught us what each god demanded.
Their rites vary. Some require physical sacrifice and flagellation, while others crave unwavering spiritual devotion.
With the last Archpriest ruling for so long, people had grown placid, unconcerned with the implications of his eventual absence. Maybe that’s what upset the gods?
How they all agreed to remove him is a mystery, but gods don’t owe us mortals explanations. They do what they will, and the people have to deal with the repercussions.
All I can hope is that, by tomorrow, the fallout overshadows the mindless girl who defied the Church and stopped a warden’s arm mid-swing. Because Ryker and I never secured my father’s official blessing, as is custom in Calcatra, our marriage feels precarious. If the public’s opinion of me begins to sour, the Consul may compel Ryker to renounce our union.
Fear wedges at the base of my throat. It was my pride, my foolishness, that kept me from facing my father after so many years, delaying the inevitable confrontation with the man who had dealt me only cruelties. As much as he despises me, I doubt he would have stood in the way of a marriage that could only benefit him politically. Now, I regret clinging to my pride.
The water grows cold and I climb out, unsure how many hours had passed since Ryker sent me away. Chaos must have erupted in the Archpriest’s absence. Consuls, Church leaders, and the people of Calcatra, all reeling from what had happened.
Restlessness settles against my ribcage as I realize just how much Ryker has to mediate right now. I should be by his side, offering my support.
But of course I can’t, not until I am officially his queen.
Steam curls around me as I step into my bedroom. I yelp, startled,and come to an abrupt halt at the sight of a figure on the chaise.
My heart lurches, then sinks like a stone when I realize who it is.
“What are you doing here?” I snap, cinching the belt of my robe, a gesture that mirrors the sick feeling tightening my throat. “It’s improper for us to be alone in my chambers, as you well know.”
For twenty years, I’ve never been alone in a room with a man who isn’t my father. And now, for the second time today, I’m alone with this one, Ryker’s brother, the kingdom’s favorite misrule.
The thought sends a flurry of nerves dancing along my spine.
Eleanor should be on a bed, placed just outside my door, but she’s been missing since this afternoon and clearly is yet to return. There is no way my duenna would allow him into my chamber, prince or not.
Mael lifts a glass of wine to his smirking lips, utterly unfazed. “You’re so insufferably saintly, I think a bit of scandal might actually improve you,” he drawls, taking a slow sip. When I glare at him, he sighs and rolls his eyes, gesturing to the other glass already waiting on the table. “And frankly, no one’s paying enough attention to notice whether our little queen-to-be is properly chaperoned. It’s chaos out there.”
“You should leave.” I grip my robe tighter, as if the fabric alone might shield me from the weight of impropriety.
We are both breaking etiquette by being alone in this room, but the stakes are far higher for me. Because I am a woman. Because of the stain of scandal that still clings to my family name. And because no matter how much I try to outrun it, the only way to truly erase it is with a wedding ring and a crown atop my head.
“Have I ever been where I was supposed to be?” Mael chuckles. “I’ll have you know I am following the orders of the king himself. Even your duenna can’t argue with that.”
I roll my eyes. He is a scandal waiting to happen, or perhaps… a reputation waiting to be rewritten. A thought coils in the back of my mind like a clever fox stretching its spine.
For better or worse, a large faction of the nobles adore him. If I can endear myself to him, it will only help my role on the throne.
Besides, if not for the curse of the Goddess of Blood and Decay,wouldn’t this be exactly how men and women were meant to behave? As equals. As humans. Without fear.
I reach for the second glass of wine. “One drink. That’s all.”
He nods, still watching me as he swirls his drink, then leans forward, holding up his glass to clink against mine.
