Page 56 of The Castle & the Cloister

Fia’s hands were on his now, and his fingers curled reflexively around her own as she thought of breaching the space that still lay between them. For his part, the Priest kept still as marble, waiting for her. His self-possession was maddening, and she wondered how long it would last if she closed their little distance, giving him license with her lips to unleash the force and reckless energy the two of them were constantly fighting back.

A rapid-fire knock sounded at the door, shattering the silence and tension that had been building like a storm. The Priest turned aside and swore, and when he got to his feet, Fia couldseehow badly he’d wanted her to move, all while remaining motionless himself.

“Beneson,” he growled, opening the door just enough to speak through it. “What can you possibly need from me right now?”

“It’s not you I came for,” the page said, his voice high and panicked. “It’s her. Fia.Her Matria’s here.”

If fear had plagued Fia on her way to the Priest’s cell, it was nothing compared to the trepidation coiled inside her on the journey back. While it had not concerned her what the Inver court might think of her reappearing from the darkness in the company of their Priest, to stumble back into Matria Dolenza’s presence was another matter entirely. The Matria, with her canny eyes and her way of plumbing the depths of someone’s soul, would surely see all that had transpired since Fia’s arrival on the mountain. That she had aided Honoria’s queen, yes, but done it through bribery and violence, and so recently been tempted by the leader of their rival faith that her blood still ran hot with desire.

An amused murmur rose from the gathered celebrants as Fia and the Priest emerged from the darkness with Beneson leading them to the altar rise. Orden and his party stood there, scattered among the shrines and talking genially with Dolenza. The Matria stood before Tyrus’s altar, on the centuries-old stain that marked the place where Olienne had fell, and if she realized what lay beneath her, she took no notice of it.

Of course she realized, Fia thought. Nothing escaped Dolenza.

“… and just where have you been keeping my postulant?” Dolenza asked easily as Fia ascended the rise, inviting her into the circle of power formed by herself and the ruling heads of every nation present at council.

Orden’s eyes cut to Fia and to the Priest beside her. A smile tuggedat the corners of his mouth. “I believe my brother, the Priest, has been instructing her in our Inver traditions. She seems an eager pupil.”

The Priest said nothing, halting at the fringe of the small group with a face that might have been carved from stone. Dolenza beckoned to Fia and she had no choice but to go, presenting herself before her Matria with a hesitance she seldom felt.

“Fiametta Raeana,” Dolenza said, offering Fia the customary greeting of a hand over the heart. Fia drew close enough to receive it, and to reciprocate, and felt caught beneath the force and insight of Dolenza’s gaze. “I’ve been listening to the king tell of how you presented yourself to Her Majesty as a gift, and have been a great support to her since your arrival on the mountain. I appreciate your willingness to serve as Raea’s emissary in this.”

Fia would have writhed beneath Dolenza’s scrutiny had so many dignitaries not been present. Instead, she stood tall and still, finally reckoning with how grossly she had overstepped the bounds of the role she’d been given, as a simple courier conveying a message.

This was the end. Raea’s cloister would never be her refuge now. Her heart sank as she thought of what it had been like journeying to the Solis Plains. Of how she’d arrived at Raea’s house with her feet in tatters, her swollen belly the only thing about her that hadn’t dwindled to skin and bones, and begged for a postulant’s position.

Bowing her head, Fia waited for Dolenza’s chastisement. To her great surprise, it did not come. Instead, she felt the infant prince settle into her arms as Ariana appeared at her left side, and the stolid warmth of the Priest as he moved to her right.

“We have found your daughter’s service invaluable,” Ariana said in her sweet, mild way, and the Priest nodded in agreement.

“It has been instructive, having a servant of Raea on the mountain. I hope for greater unity between our two sanctuaries in future.”

Orden looked vastly pleased, glancing from Dolenza to her postulant flanked by his wife and Priest. Gileta was tight-lipped and disapproving. Afon bored and disdainful. The Arbiter and Arbitress had wandered off, but Gwylen stalked up the rise in their place, moving to stand just behind Afon. She caught Fia’s eyes and gave her the smallest possible nod of approbation.

Raea help me, Fia thought.I am out of my depth.

But just as quickly as all had focused on her, attention shifted. Dolenza turned back to Orden, and to the conversation they’d been engrossed in.

“What I should like,” she said in the magnanimous voice Fia had heard her use to placate the wealthiest of merchants or the most fractious of children, “is to present Honoria in just the manner your Priest indicates. As united, strengthened by an accord between the old ways and the new. The gulf between us has gone unbridged long enough. What, after all, is an Inver king but a flame—a twin to the burning sun. It would be our honor to show you our light, and to receive yours in turn. I have no desire to see a weakened Honoria, and if those present wish to undermine our nation’s interests, then it is time Raea’s house takes a more active role in the affairs and decisions that chart our country’s course.”

Orden was transparently flattered by Dolenza’s courteousness, and by the comparison between himself and the foremost sister of the Beloved Three. He went so far as to put an arm around the Matria’s shoulders as he answered, and Fia nearly snarled. Even from where she stood, she could smell wine on the king and hear it in the timbre of his voice. As Orden spoke, the Priest let out the barest huff, audible to no one but Fia.

That hint of dislike and disdain was the only thing that kept her silent, rather than raising her voice to hotly protest the king’s overfamiliarity with Raea’s chief representative.

“Truly, our light burns brighter than ever this year,” Orden answered. “Have you seen the prince? He’ll be a blaze to rival the sun itself, I’ve no doubt.”

“A marvel,” Dolenza confirmed, glancing down at Justus, who Fia knew to be an entirely unexceptional infant. “A future king, and one sustained by a daughter of my order. From such small beginnings, new eras dawn. To that end, I should like to invite all present to Raea’s house for the conclusion of summer council, along with Honoria’s king and queen and whatever members of court they choose to accompany them. Bring your son to my cloister, Majesty, and I will give him a gift fit for a ruler, to further the accord between us.”

“You pique my interest, Matria,” Orden said with a bow. “How canI refuse such an offer? The moment the prince’s naming ceremony ends, we’ll begin preparations to visit you. I should like a chance to see the coast—all my life I’ve lived in Honoria and never been.”

Dolenza’s eyes and Fia’s met briefly at the admission, which the king surely would not have made were he less in his cups. Thousands of Honorians walked willingly or were forced onto vessels bound for Vesper every year, crossing the waves to serve as fodder for the Invers’ war. Some died in the crossing, throwing themselves overboard rather than arriving at the front. Other ships sank in storms or were blown to pieces by the weaponry of the Vesperins. There were many ways to meet a watery death before ever facing the hellfires of the front.

And Orden Inver had never seen the sea.

“Raea’s blessings are manifold,” Dolenza said smoothly, turning back to the king. “Our harbor and vineyards and granaries give life to Honoria, and line the cloister’s coffers well. It will be my pleasure to show them all to you, and to discuss how the abundance we’ve been granted might further benefit Honoria at large. I believe there has been talk of sanctions at council thus far, leveled against us by other nations—forgive me if I keep informed of such matters, Majesty. It would be Raea’s pleasure to mitigate the effect of any such censure.”

Orden kissed Dolenza’s hand, and Fia fought an urge to roll her eyes. It was an insipid gesture, and one never practiced by followers of the Three. Either you were trusted enough to warrant a hand over the heart, or you were kept out of reach. None of this pageantry or insincerity.

“Glora,” Orden said, raising his voice as he straightened. “Where are you? Matria Dolenza and her attendants will require rooms for tonight, and we will travel on the morrow. See to it the Matria is quartered in the Hesperid Wing and has everything she requires.”