Page 66

The high-backed chair in front of me makes a grating noise when I pull it out for Bria to sit.

I place her across from Aamon and sit to her left, putting myself face to face with the creep of a priest. The large table could have fit a dozen more people and seems a bit grand for such a small breakfast. However, I suppose Aamon and Father Mallory want to impress Bria.

They will go to great lengths, as will the king, to ensure she is instantly hooked.

It will make their job easier, after all.

Luthais moves to take the seat to Bria’s right and my teeth clench. He’s complicating things by being so watchful and I’m becoming increasingly concerned that getting Nimai may prove more challenging with him around.

Aamon and Father Mallory discuss the upcoming day as servants shuffle about with several trays filled with savory and sweet arrays—another attempt to woo Bria into submission.

Anger courses through my veins at how they underestimate her.

Sitting across from them is the most powerful woman alive, the most powerful to have existed since Lilith and Kiara.

And these pricks think she can be swayed with flakey croissants and poached quail eggs.

My anger fizzles though when I see the overflowing tray and notice the scones.

I can’t help the smirk that tugs at the corner of my mouth.

Perhaps I was wrong. My girl does have a weakness for the sweet breakfast pastry, as silly as it is.

She’s listening to Father Mallory droll on about the temple and how he wants her to go there after we finish breakfast. So, I reach forward, selecting one that appears studded with chocolate and place it on the plate in front of her.

Bria’s eyes flick down, breaking her gaze with the priest, and a genuine smile graces her lips. She stretches her hand out toward me beneath the table and brushes her fingers along mine. The touch sends a jolt through my body, and I glance quickly over at Luthais, whose brows are furrowed.

He observed the touch from Bria. Good , I think.

Let him see all the authentic hidden touches and stolen kisses between us.

They will only serve to prove the lies of seduction.

And if I’m being honest with myself, I can’t keep from touching her.

No matter the dire circumstances. I crave her whenever she is out of reach and her touch soothes me, just as I know mine does the same for her.

“You shall meet the other priests today. I know they will be just as taken with you as I am,” he croons as he stabs his fork into the poached egg, the runny yolk overtaking his plate.

“It would be an honor to visit the temple of Vaohr and meet your fellow reverend fathers,” Bria replies.

That voice is different from her normal tone.

She’s forcing her voice to be quieter and meeker while she’s here.

She is softening herself, making it appear as though she is an easier target than she really is—twirling them around her fingers only to break them when she steals away in the middle of the night with her sister.

Oh, what I wouldn’t give to see their faces when both halves of the prophecy slip through their blood-soaked hands.

I scoop a heap of fried potatoes onto my own plate along with some sausage and fresh strawberries.

The quality of the food shocks my taste buds.

Only a year away from this place and I’ve forgotten how rich it is.

Everything is fried or slathered in butter and heavily spiced.

It’s a delicious change for my palate, having become so accustomed to the blander food in the camp.

And when my eyes slide to Bria, I note the small smile that lingers on her face as she bites into the chocolate scone.

Even now, she can find pleasure in the simple things.

But really, she’s always been that way deep down—a lady who befriended the children of servants and guards and refused to bend in her ways, never fully accepting her lot in life.

“You should come too, my boy,” Father Mallory is saying to me.

I had been lost in myself, consumed by my thoughts while I watched Bria.

Too consumed, I realize, that I stopped listening to the old man.

My fork is poised above my plate, waiting for him to continue, to give any clue as to what nonsense he’s spewing now.

“Your father tells me you are here to pledge yourself to the Crown and Vaohr once more. You will need to partake in the rite again, Evander.”

The rite. Fuck.

I forgot about the sacrament of Vaohr. It was not much of a ceremony, but I would be required to stand before the statue of the god and receive him.

This meant allowing the priests to use their power on you however they deemed fit.

The rite is not the same for everyone. The priests claim that Vaohr speaks to them and determines the punishment or blessing that will be bestowed depending on the purity of their soul.

“Yes, Father. I will join you and Lady Bria at the temple this afternoon to take the rite.” I give a slight bow of my head and continue eating, the rich food turning to ash in my mouth as the man’s thin lips spread into a smile.

“Good man,” the priest says. “Vaohr will be pleased with you for returning.”

I swallow the bite of food and lift my eyes to Father Mallory’s. The smile has widened, and his lips curl back from his gleaming teeth. I can’t shake the sinking feeling that my soul will be found tainted today.

Meaning I will be receiving one hell of a punishment.