Page 28 of The Concubine King
“Fa’harath,” a familiar voice breathed an ancient word.He didn’t know the meaning, but he felt it: tender, aching, realm-shattering love.
Ethyr gasped, sitting up and looking around.The room was empty.
He sank back on his heels, staring forward.He knew that voice.But he couldn’t place it for the life of him.Arousal had been doused under a cold bucket of unease and sorrow, and he couldn’t place that either.
He put the book away and went to sit on the balcony railing, looking up at the night sky drifting occasionally into view between dark clouds.
CHAPTER EIGHT
He didn’t fall asleep until dawn was breaking across the stars.
“Your Divinity.”
The voice, calm but firm, woke Ethyr from sound sleep.Sitting up groggily, he looked at Gionan laying new garments across the end of his bed.
“It is past noon, you must wash and eat and prepare for tonight.”
Ethyr tousled his hair, looking out at the bright sky.“Did the other kings have to stay up all night, too?”
“Yes.The gods are busy during the day.”
“Busy?”Ethyr furrowed his brow.“Doing what?”
Gionan pulled at his arm and Ethyr reluctantly let the man drag him from the bed.
“Answering prayers and keeping the kingdom safe, of course.”
That didn’t really answer his question, but Ethyr wondered if Gionan even knew.Could a mortal understand the ways a god worked?He followed the man from the bedroom to the dining room to eat breakfast.Or dinner, maybe.He didn’t know how to keep track of it anymore.It was the usual breakfast fare, but well past any normal breakfast time.Then he was washed, thoroughly, and brought back to his room to dress in yet another new outfit.At that point, his wardrobe could clothe his entire village.
This one was a soft blue tunic that, instead of being translucent and body-tight, had a loose draping neck and open sides, and was tied around his waist with strips of fabric that left his midriff exposed.Though it wouldn’t have mattered even if it went all the way to his hips, because the open sides showed off plenty of his torso on their own.He was starting to wonder why they put tunics on him at all if they did nothing to cover him.
His pants were tied under his knees, like the previous pair he wore for the gods, but were red instead of gold and didn’t have open sides.Maybe that was why his shirt did; having no open sides in his clothing was apparently unfathomable.
Another belt of gold rings, though these rings were significantly smaller, with little stars and moons made of silver dangling intermittently from them.When hooked loosely around his waist, one end of the rope-like metal was left hanging halfway down his thigh.His wrists and ankle were once again adorned with gold bangles.To his great dismay, this outfit came with gold slippers.No cosmetics, though, when Ethyr told Gionan what the gods had said.He seemed skeptical, but took Ethyr’s word.It was him who’d have to face the consequences if he was lying, anyway.
Poyut was standing dutifully by the carriage, and she held out her hand to help Ethyr inside.He looked at her as he stepped up, trying to convey a silent apology, but she didn’t meet his gaze.
He stared miserably out the window as the carriage ascended the mountain, since it was better than staring miserably at the old priest.This time the crowd greeting them was significantly smaller, only a few of the older priests in robes.Ethyr was brought once again to the room, dishes were laid onto the altar table, and he was given white petals to eat.
When everyone was gone and it was quiet, he let out a heavy sigh and looked around.Tonight’s offering was dismal compared to the previous one.Ethyr caught himself in surprise and shame at the thought.The amount and quality of food on the table was better than any meal he’d had in his life up until all this.It was just that, in comparison to the sea of food the gods were offered before, it seemed like an insult in itself.
Was that Yorith’s plan?Would the gods be offended by the offering and take it out on him?He swallowed, gripping his pants and forcing his knee to stop bouncing.They hadn’t seemed likely to offend easily, but Ethyr couldn’t possibly claim to know their moods and whims after spending one night with them.
He wanted to see how the dreary room transitioned into the grand opulence of the previous night, but the same fatigue fell over him and he couldn’t keep his eyes open.Light opened them again to a room of comfortable luxury.
“Ooh, he’s back,” Gallus said, delighted.Leaving his goblet of wine on the table, he took Ethyr’s hands and pulled him to his feet before spinning around in a few dizzying circles, laughing.His laughter was boisterous and musical, and once Ethyr got his feet under him, he couldn’t help but laugh a little too.
Gallus slowed to plant a hard kiss on Ethyr’s mouth.“Welcome back.”
“Gallus, bring him here,” Varuut called from the table.He dropped one of Ethyr’s hands, squeezing the other tighter to pull him over.
Catocus and Langath were sitting by the wall, examining a game board on the floor between them.Ithna lounged on a nearby seat, arm tossed elegantly over the high side as she watched the game unfold.
What surprised Ethyr most was the sight of Kiaro, whose disinterest had been clear enough the previous night.He sat facing the room, elbows on his knees as he turned over an interlocking puzzle like ones Ethyr had often played with at festivals.All of the gods were stunningly gorgeous in their own ways, but Kiaro was heart-stopping.The cut of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the slope of his nose.He wasn’t beautiful like a person, but like a force of nature.
His dark eyes rose to meet Ethyr’s and Ethyr whipped his gaze away, staring hard at the table instead.
He settled next to Varuut, Gallus falling beside him and leaning against his shoulder.Varuut combed Ethyr’s hair back with her fingers and tucked a pink blossom behind his ear.
