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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Aurelia

B y the time the carriage draws to a halt near the Prospirian temple, impatience is gnawing at my gut. This was the closest site dedicated to Prospira I could find that fit the impressions my gift gave me, three hours’ trek from the capital.

The farmlands that surround the temple seem the perfect setting for a place of worship dedicated to growth and abundance. Even this early in the season, a few crops are poking up in tidy rows, while other fields have been recently plowed to churn the soil. A rich, loamy scent drifts in the breeze.

The temple sprawls rather than looms, its wooden walls still sprouting leaves. As I approach the entrance, a warbling sound reaches my ears from the river coursing past the back of the building. Thick strands of grass wave along its banks as if beckoning me over .

I head into the temple instead. The cleric hustles over to greet me before I’ve made it halfway down the entry hall.

He dips his head low. “Your Imperial Highness, we’re honored to host you today. Is there anything I or my devouts can help you with?”

I smile at him, suppressing the anxious quiver in my nerves. I’ve tapped into my gift for this purpose before. Surely Prospira won’t turn me away?

“I’m hoping that with some meditation I can determine exactly what would help most,” I say.

The cleric motions to a nearby devout dressed in a similar yellow hue. “We can clear out the worship room for you. There are a few petitioners here today, but?—”

I hold up my hand to stop him. “I don’t want to displace any of my citizens. I hardly need the whole space. But thank you.”

My guards follow me into the room at the end of the hall that’s somehow both grand and homey. A hearth crackles with a lively fire at one end while beams of sunlight stream with a honeyed glow from the glazed windows above.

The statue of Prospira poised across from the hearth is sculpted from a living tree, the twigs of her hair dappled with budding leaves, her feet merging with the roots before they sink into the floor.

As I’ve often seen, she’s depicted pregnant, one hand resting on the swell of her belly with a sheaf of wheat tucked under her arm.

Her other hand is extended as if in offering, balancing a few coins that glint bronze and silver. It’s common practice for those hoping to improve their financial situation to leave a small offering and pray to see the wealth come back to them many times over.

A carved rabbit nestles next to one of her legs. Flowers both etched and left as offerings decorate the space on the other side .

A couple and two solo petitioners are kneeling on the yellow cushions spread throughout the room, facing the statue. At my entrance, their gazes flicked toward me. They’ve frozen with widening eyes.

I don’t want to disturb their prayers any more than I can help. Silently, I take a cushion near the wall. My guards form a semi-circle around me, shielding me from view but leaving my line of sight toward the statue of the godlen unobstructed.

Marc’s curious gaze lingers on me, but I don’t have answers for him yet even if I wanted to share them.

I inhale slowly, tap my fingers down my front, and open myself to both the divine energies of the temple and my gift.

Oh great Prospira, so many people of the empire are struggling to make ends meet rather than enjoying the abundance you would offer. How can I best champion that cause for you? How can I heal this rift that’s cut through the realms?

I focus my gift on that last question. As with Estera, I need to convince Prospira of my commitment to following her principles and imbuing my rule with them. The opulence of my current living situation hardly matters if I can’t share some of that lavishness with the people who need it most.

An image wavers through my mind: rippling waters coursing in a steady current. I have the impression of coolness lapping at my limbs, of my body buoyed on subtle waves.

My pulse skips a beat. Perhaps the river really was beckoning me, or this temple’s patron godlen was calling to me through it.

I can only imagine what my guards will make of this development, but if they could tolerate me climbing onto rooftops, they’ll have to accept this endeavor too.

Without a word, I slip out of the temple and go to the carriage. As quickly as I can, I remove my jewelry, my belt with its pouch and knife, and my slippers.

“Your Imperial Highness?” Kassun asks.

I suppose my behavior is bizarre enough that he doesn’t feel he needs to put more of the question into words.

“Prospira has shown me how I must make my full appeal to her,” I tell him. “You needn’t worry. I learned how to swim when I was a little thing splashing around in Accasy’s lakes.”

“Swim?” he repeats with a note of consternation, but I’m already striding toward the riverbank.

The tall grass hisses against my skirt. If I were being completely practical about this task, I’d strip my gown off too, but I can only imagine how horrified my guards would be by that immodesty.

No, I’m meeting Prospira as empress, so I must maintain some imperial decorum. I’m not afraid that she’ll drown me.

Stepping into the water, I have to restrain a wince. Its chill nips at my skin, first up to my knees, then up my thighs to my waist.

By the time I’ve reached the center of the channel, the river flows around my chest. The cold water steals my breath, but I drag more air into my lungs, turn so my back is to the current, and tip over.

The river catches me, nudging me to the surface so I float as I pictured in my vision. The breeze dancing across my front amplifies the cold, but it’s as much exhilarating as uncomfortable now.

I give myself over to the loss of control even as my heart thumps harder. Lead me where you want me to go, Prospira. Let me witness what you want me to see.

The current tugs me faster, and water sloshes across my chin. I press my lips tight against it, blinking the moisture away.

A shout I can’t make out carries from the bank, where I think my guards are jogging alongside me. I smile in an attempt to show I’m perfectly all right.

This supplication isn’t going to get me anywhere if my protectors jump in to “save” me before I’ve reached whatever revelation the godlen would lead me to.

With another spurt of water across my face, I close my eyes. The floating sensation consumes me even more fully when my surroundings have given over to darkness.

I drift to one side and then the other. My foot grazes the bank before I whirl away again. The cold seeps right through to my bones.

Sunlight wavers across my eyelids. I open them again to stare up at the vast blue of the sky.

As I gaze toward the heavens, the imagery shifts before my eyes. The smattering of white clouds seem tinged with green. The endless blue streams around and between the tufts, like rivulets between patches of grass…

My breath catches. At the rush of understanding, my body tenses, and I go partly under.

The water sweeps over my head, tossing my hair free from its pins and across my face. Letting it wander wherever it most naturally goes.

Like it should always be.

The recognition of that fact grips me. I tilt my legs down and plant them on the ground. The current gushes around my shoulders, but everything inside me has gone perfectly still.

Yes. I should have seen it without her even showing me. It was just—I encountered the problem so many months ago and haven’t returned since—the logistics of making the change…

No matter how complex it is, I have to make it happen. I knew even when I first saw the way Prospira’s generosity had been warped that the situation was wrong, and now I have the power to set it right.

I push to the bank, absorbed in the resolve that’s come over me. My guards cluster along the edge, Marc and Kassun bending down with arms extended to help me up.

As I reach for them, the wind whips faster across my face, flicking up a few stray hairs along my forehead despite their dampness. An inexplicable tug forms in my throat.

“Wait,” I murmur, and turn back toward the center of the river.

The water flows around me—on and on, all across the realms. The wind buffets my skin again, forcing my eyes closed. Streaks of light stream across my eyelids.

A river mouth splitting into five. Separate currents racing away… and rippling back again?

I shake my head, blinking, but the second vision doesn’t become any clearer in my head. Was that overture from Prospira at all? The hint of a divine presence that brought it didn’t feel like her expansive warmth but something brisker.

Nothing further comes to me. I take Marc’s and Kassun’s hands and scramble out of the water with a heft of their arms.

As soon as I’m out in the open air, the chill hits me sharper than before. At my shiver, Marc lets out a sound of distress and wrenches off his jacket.

By the time he’s wrapped the garment around my shoulders, one of my other guards has hustled over with a blanket she must have grabbed from the carriage. I tuck the folds of fabric close around me and run my fingers over my wild hair.

So much for imperial decorum.

“Did you see anything?” Marc asks, to chiding looks from his fellow guards who must feel he’s overstepping with the question .

I answer anyway. “A lot. I’m certain of one thing… I need to speak to the cleric.”

The other woman among today’s guards tsks her tongue. “Let me…”

She retrieves a few pins from one pocket and hastily arranges my hair away from my face in the simplest of styles. At the lift of my eyebrows, she offers a wry smile. “It never hurts to have a few extras around. They can serve all sorts of purposes.”

I can only imagine what sorts of uses a soldier would normally put them to.

A laugh tumbles out of me. “I’m glad for that.”

We tramp back to the temple. The cleric and a few of his devouts have come out to watch my progress—and perhaps to wonder at my apparent madness.

As we reach them, I lift my head high and gather myself. So much of this plan might depend on how many allies I can prepare in advance.

I clasp my hands in front of me. “I believe Prospira has called on me to do a great work in her name. Cleric Drusus, how easily can you pass on word to other temples of Prospira—even across the Darium border?”

The cleric betrays only a twitch of surprise before he answers as if nothing all that odd has occurred.

“We have temple messengers who can travel quickly enough, and subtle methods of magic that can convey broader signals between our temples, all across the continent. Any task you’d wish to put my fellow clerics to, I’m sure they’d be more than happy to support you and our godlen. ”

The threads of my conviction ground me like the roots of Prospira’s statue. “Good. Then I expect you’ll be getting word from me shortly.”