Page 88 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

“He’s problematic—and I’m not proud of it—but that history is still there.”

“Sure,” Amryth said skeptically. “And what was the fallout from the incident with the King yesterday?”

“That was the fallout,” she murmured while trying to wash quickly.

Amryth sighed. “Don’t trust him, Mar. Promise me you aren’t trying to have kids. Are you taking anything?”

Marietta paused, not having thought of that. Swearing, she earned an exasperated sigh from Amryth.

“The guards get their drugs in the garrison infirmary, so I’ll be back.” Amryth pushed off the doorframe, her face half turning toward Marietta. “Try to be dressed when I return. I’m going to the temple, and I’m following up on a promise to bring you with me.”

After sending Keyain a note that she wished to visit the temple, a handful of guards escorted Marietta and Amryth to a carriage. Though she preferred to walk, despite the scorching heat of the day, she didn’t wish to fight with Keyain so soon. Otherwise, she would have undermined her own efforts.

The city blurred by in shades of white and green as their carriage wove through the streets. When they neared the temples, their pace came to a crawl along the crowded lane as people walking outside the carriage passed them.

At first, Marietta wished to throw open the doors and walk the rest of the way; yet, the slowdown meant she could inspect each place of worship as they passed.

To one side sat a temple made of pale-yellow stone.

Golden yellow banners stamped with a chimera hung between ornate columns.

Like the other temples, this one had an extensive set of steps leading to the top, adorned with shrubbery and statues decorating the path.

The statue out front brought uneasiness to Marietta’s chest, the figure’s features obscured with what was carved to be a veil. She marveled at the sculptor’s ability to chisel fabric from stone, to look as if a body peeked through the veil—neither man nor woman. It was ominous, almost shifting.

“Oramytiz,” Amryth said. “Deity of reality and deception.”

“The statue is stunning.” Marietta placed her hand upon the glass, wishing to be closer.

“You should see the other side.”

Marietta turned her gaze to the temple across the way.

Taupe-colored stone, much to the same style as the others, with light gray banners divided by a lightning bolt, rose before her.

The statue was of a woman with curled hair twirling over her head as if a gust twisted it up.

At her feet was a false cliff face, the stone carved to look as if stones crumbled away from the base.

A stirring woke in her chest, ever so slightly, like the goddess’ twisting hair.

“Seidytar, goddess of chaos and order.” Amryth leaned forward, looking to the following building. “And that,” she said, pointing, “is Kystrorgiste, god of creation and destruction.”

The vibrant red stone was shocking next to the gray, with the familiar flame inside a water droplet on crimson banners.

Before them rose the statue of a long-haired god, one arm raised with water expelling from the hand, and the other curled below with flames.

“I know this one.” A smile pulled at her lips, the memory returning a crackling, heated sensation to her heart.

“I had a handful of friends sworn to this deity.”

Amryth snorted a laugh. “You had friends who were attendants, yet you never asked about their god or temple?”

Marietta shrugged. “I was never one for religion.”

As they neared the last temple before Therypon’s, Marietta marveled at the black stone temple, ominous against the bright blue sky. Statues of people in pain, of the elderly, of those collapsing into the arms of another, lined the steps. “Those are ghastly.”

“That they are. Zontykroi, god of life and death.”

A black crescent below a thin circle outline marked bright white banners that flapped in the breeze, contrasting with the temple’s dark facade.

The darkness reminded her of the King’s eyes, yet they were missing the amber flecks.

Marietta shook the thought from her head, startled it even came up.

Thinking of the King when he wasn’t present was a habit Marietta didn’t want to make.

The statue before the building was plain.

A man with short-cropped hair and made of white stone was stark against the dark stone structure.

His face was handsome, austere yet solemn.

A heaviness filled her, like a weight on her chest. From that distance, it was hard to see, yet Marietta knew she wasn’t mistaken. “They didn’t carve ears.”

“None of the deities’ statues have ears,” Amryth noted, “to show that the gods belong to no race. Plus, no one knows what they would be in a mortal form.”

“Do they have a mortal form?” Marietta squinted as they passed, her eyes scanning the temple.

“Some scriptures say they do but no one has ever seen them.” She shrugged. “Lastly, of course, there’s Therypon, goddess of healing and pain.” A smile lined her lips as she stood.

“Now that we brought up the ears, I can’t remember if Therypon had them during my prayer. I remember her dark skin and hair, but not her ears.” She wracked her brain, trying to remember.

Amryth’s grip stilled on the handle. She turned slowly, brows furrowed. “You saw the goddess?”

“Yes, last time when—”

Amryth silenced her with a hand, peeking out from the carriage. “Say nothing about this until we’re inside the temple.”

Curious, Marietta bit her tongue. Wishing to ask Amryth why, Marietta refrained as they left the carriage, and the guards closed in. Unlike last time, they escorted Marietta up the steps, only stepping away when she entered the antechamber.

The temple was peaceful, the chapel quiet, with pious folk sitting in prayer to the goddess. Instead of sitting at the benches, Amryth led her off to the side of a hallway. After a few turns, she stopped at the door, knocking.

“Come in!” called a familiar chipper voice.

Inside, Deania sat behind a desk, her long, dark hair loose and cascading over her cerulean blue tunic.

She bit at her nails, reading a paper before she finally looked up.

“Oh! What a surprise,” she said, jumping to her feet.

She skipped from around her desk, embracing Amryth on her tiptoes to make up for her lack of height.

The cleric turned her bright eyes to Marietta, arms opened. “It is wonderful to see you!” She wrapped Marietta in a hug before she responded. All she could do was laugh and embrace her back.

“Deania, will you knock that off!” chided a voice behind her. Coryn stepped into the room with a half-hearted scowl on his face. “You’ll scare off another one.”

She released Marietta, spinning on the spot. “For the last time, I did not scare him off!”

Coryn gave a face that said otherwise.

“Trust me—she isn’t going anywhere.” Amryth flagged them in, her smile faltering, giving way to tight lips.

The office was roomy and bright, with white walls, a small window, and blue tapestries. Next to Deania’s dark wood desk sat a couch and few chairs, of which Amryth took a seat.

Coryn closed the door behind him as he ushered Marietta into the room. As before, he wore his blue tunic beneath his armor. “Saw you two walking up the steps but I was surprised when you weren’t in the chapel.”

Amryth pursed her lips, waiting as Marietta took her seat. “Mar, can you tell them what you told me in the carriage?”

“That I can’t remember if Therypon had ears?” Marietta narrowed her eyes, confused on why she’d have to repeat it. “Why’d you tell me to stop talking in the carriage?”

“The other part.” She crossed her arms, leaning into the couch.

“That I saw her when I prayed?”

Deania and Coryn exchanged surprised glances. “You saw Therypon during your prayer?” Deania said, scooting to the edge of her chair. “You’re sure about this?”

“Well, yeah, she looked identical to the statue. And when she spoke—”

“She spoke?” Coryn interrupted. “As in, she told you something?”

“She told me a few things,” Marietta said, turning to him. “We had an entire conversation, but it was in my mother’s herb garden.” Marietta turned back to Amryth, who looked as if she’d be sick. “Is that not normal?”

“No,” Deania answered, her grin growing. “Marietta, only those who are Iros receive visions like that.”

“And even then,” Coryn said, leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees, “not every Iros converses with the goddess, let alone does it on their second time praying.”

“I don’t know what Iros means.” Marietta’s heart skipped a beat at their range of emotions.

“Iros are paladins of the gods, chosen to be their elite warriors for unique causes.” He rubbed the scruff on his chin as his gaze was lost in thought.

“Usually only those who are an attendant to a god or goddess are claimed as an Iros. It’s a rare honor and holds the highest respect in the temples. ”

Coryn shifted to the end of his seat and reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up to expose his torso.

Gods, he was muscled. It took her a moment to notice that inked onto his dark skin were two intertwined snakes through a lattice of X’s.

The tattoo extended from below his hip up to his neck, ending in twin snake heads.

“Those of us who are Therypon’s Iros share the goddess’s mark inked into our flesh.

The sign of the Iros is this, the goddess’s serpents.

” He let his shirt drop and leaned forward on his knees once more.

“Once that ceremony is complete,” he said, holding out his hand before him, “we gain control over both of Therypon’s domains—healing and pain.

” White light emanated from his fingertips, then gave way to black crackling energy.

“That’s a lot to hear,” Marietta said, blinking at the magic. Her friends in Enomenos had never shown her that. “But I’m not an Iros. I’m not an attendant.” She craned her head to Amryth. “I’m not any of that.”

Amryth shook her head with a shrug. “You’re a lot of things, Marietta, but I can honestly say I know no one else who’s had a vision that early.”

“She should pray in the hand!” Deania said, jumping out of her seat. “Right now, actually.” She pulled Marietta up from her seat.

“In the hand?” Marietta asked.

“Yeah, in the goddess’ giving hand within the chapel! It’s normally what attendants do when they’re seeking a more meaningful prayer with the goddess.” She led Marietta to the door, Coryn and Amryth in pursuit. “All Iros are claimed in her hand.”

Returning to the silent chapel, fewer devotees occupied the benches. At the front, the statue of Therypon loomed over Marietta as she approached.

“All you do is kneel in her hand,” Deania said, guiding her over. “Then you pray as you did on the bench. Got it?”

“Not really.” Gods, what did they think would come of this? Perhaps Therypon knew Marietta needed help, so she had manifested. Marietta wasn’t an Iros, couldn’t be. The idea was ridiculous.

Stone bit into Marietta’s bone as she knelt, the pain not unbearable, but she was unsure if she’d be able to clear her mind enough to speak to the goddess.

She tilted her head back, facing the statue.

With her mind focused on ignoring her uncomfortable seated position, she let her conscious fade, reaching for the Therypon’s warmth.

The pain in her legs subsided, and her vision went white.

First came the eucalyptus and peppermint scent, then the white faded and she stood in the center of her bakery’s kitchen in Olkia with Therypon standing across from her.

A choking sob built in her throat at the sight of her home, at the place she felt most herself.

A knowing smile came to the goddess’ face, her onyx skin glowing and her long black waves blowing though there wasn’t any wind.

“Welcome, Marietta.” Her tone was still affectionate and earthy, comforting and familiar.

“My goddess,” she said with a bow of her head. “Thank you for giving me a direction.” She looked up, glancing around the kitchen, her hand falling onto the wooden countertop. “For giving me one last time to see my home.”

“Who said it would be the last time you saw it? Things, as they are now, won’t be as they are in the future—nothing is set in stone.”

Marietta’s heart skipped a beat. “You said you know my future. Will I return to Olkia? Will I be free of Satiros?” At her anxiety, the goddess glowed with golden light. A comforting warmth settled deep into Marietta’s chest, and she held onto it, savoring it.

“That will always be a possibility, but only if you seek the truth. You came to me today, not for your goal, but answers. What do you seek?”

She reflected on the conversation she just shared with Deania and Coryn. “They say I might be an Iros because you speak to me. Is that true?”

“You are, and have always been, one of my Iros, my chosen.”

“But why?” Marietta asked, her heart stricken. She had never been religious; she never paid the gods much attention. “Why do I deserve to be your Iros?”

“It is less what you deserve and more what you will do—what you are and who you become.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your future decides the fate of many, your lifeline entangled with those you do not know.”

Marietta tried to bite back her surprise. “My future? How will that decide anything?”

“It is your choice of future that shall decide. Death will be a known friend to you.”

Well, that was ominous. Marietta’s chest tightened, but the warmth of the goddess soothed her uneasiness. “Can I prevent the deaths? Are those the decisions I’ll need to make?”

“Death will follow any decision you make. Some choices will bring more and others will lead to less.”

“But what will I do? What is my goal that makes me a chosen one?”

“Seek the truth. Answers follow. You have already learned this.”

Exasperated, Marietta asked, “Is that my only goal?”

A smile tugged at the goddess’ lips from Marietta’s impatience, as if her emotions were amusing. “Stay true to who you are. Forgetting yourself will affect the choices you make.”

“What will happen now that I’m one of your chosen?”

“You’ve always been my chosen one. The only change is that you’re now aware.”

“But what will change? What do you expect of me?”

“Train and learn. Follow the other Iros, the one named Coryn. Devote yourself to me, and you will earn the strength to deflect your enemies.”

The warmth faded from her body. “What of the King? My husband? What will happen if either of them knows I’m an Iros?”

“They will kill you.” The voice was a whisper in the back of Marietta’s head. Her entire body shivered, twitching.

Marietta’s eyes opened, facing up at the statue of Therypon.