Page 67 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

Damn Aleissande for getting into her head. Damn Aleissande to the seventh layer of the hells.

Josie’s teeth dug into the skin next to her thumbnail as she paced across the godsawful rug in her dormitory. She could hear her father’s gentle chiding in her ear.

You’ll wear a hole through the floor.

He’d cock his brow, his amused smile only half-visible over whatever parchment he was reading.

She’d never noticed how much a fixture that was in her memories of her father until…

No. Enzo and Zuri were alive. The Bellare would have used their deaths for their cause by now.

Then why haven’t they come for you?

“Because wherever they are, they can’t,” Josie mumbled aloud, her index finger digging into the skin of her jagged cuticle.

Irritation flared at her own grumbling. She wasn’t a child. She didn’t need to mewl for her parents to come save her, no matter how desperately she wanted their comfort. She needed to stay focused.

Josie pivoted sharply, the heel of her boot twisting the rug.

This was foolish. A naive, useless waste of time—

The door clicked open, and she froze, the iron sharp on her tongue from the skin still caught between her teeth. She snapped her hand away from her mouth, her thumb tucking into her fist as she stared at Viviane.

“Still haven’t kicked the habit, I see,” Vi remarked softly as she pushed the door closed. Her eyes, clear and blue and full of that light that Josie had longed to see just months before, were soft and knowing.

Josie hated her for it.

“Don’t,” Josie muttered. “You don’t get to do that.”

Viviane angled her head. “Don’t get to do what? Act like I know you?”

“You don’t. Not anymore.”

Viviane’s gaze raked down her, taking in her fighting leathers. She glanced around the room, taking in the various weapons strewn about. “I suppose you’re right,” she allowed, sadness dragging her voice below its usual tenor timbre.

Josie wondered what Vi saw when she looked at her now. She wasn’t entirely sure she cared.

Viviane’s spine straightened, her sharp chin lifting as she faced Josie head on. “Is that why you summoned me? Is that what you wished to say to me?”

Josie swallowed against the ache in her throat as she tried to gather her thoughts.

She was typically level in the face of conflict, having honed her patience in the faces of preening merchants and power-hungry diplomats.

Even when she and Aidon would argue, she had found the upper hand in waiting him out.

If she could remain steady, remain calm, it was only a matter of time before her unaffectedness got beneath her brother’s skin and sent his anger rising.

Now she knew exactly how it felt. Not only had Viviane’s betrayal whittled the wick of her temper into something short and easily ignited, but she was holding the match to it with her indifference.

“I want to know why,” Josie demanded.

Viviane’s lips rolled inward. “Would knowing make any difference?”

Josie loathed the hurt that radiated through her chest. Anger was better. Easier. “You would deny me—”

“I’m not denying you, Josie,” Vi interrupted gently, stepping further into the room. Her hand twitched, as if she wanted to reach for her but thought better of it. “I just don’t want to add to your hurt. If knowing will truly help you, then I’ll tell you everything.”

“Add to my hurt?” Josie huffed a humorless laugh. “You’ve already betrayed my family not once, but twice. You may not have lifted a sword in this coup, but you are just as responsible for it.”

Viviane’s chest rose as she inhaled. “Can we sit?” she asked, motioning toward the small table. Her continued composure in the face of Josie’s ire sent heat crawling up Josie’s cheeks. But she managed a sharp nod, the tension in her body easing slightly as she settled in the stiff chair.

Viviane sat across from her, her hands splaying flat on the wood as she stared at the surface of the table for a long moment.

Josie had always loved her hands—the way they looked holding a paintbrush, the soft, smooth feel of them on her skin, the wicked touch of her fingers between her thighs.

She tore her gaze away from them.

“I was introduced to the Bellare through Ryker Drycari,” Viviane finally began. “He’s—”

“The man who blackmailed Aidon because you told him of his power,” Josie filled in. Viviane’s lips pursed.

“I was going to say like a brother to me.”

Josie arched a brow. “Really? How interesting. You’ve never once mentioned him to me. How many lies did you tell during our relationship?”

Did she even know Viviane?

“I never mentioned him because I knew his affiliation would bother you.”

“Yes,” Josie bit out, her arms bracing on the table, “it would. And yet you had no qualms about joining the Bellare yourself.”

“It’s not that simple,” Viviane argued. “Ryker’s parents were killed by Visya pirates. Avis Lavigne nearly lost half his fortune to a Persi who manipulated him into a fraudulent investment. And look at what your own uncle did to his daughter in the name of—”

“Dominic was a bloody heretic,” Josie snapped. “And a human at that. He wasn’t a champion of the Visya, he was a champion of Kakos and destruction!”

“Several would argue the Visya and Kakos are one and the same,” Vi answered calmly.

“And that would be an affront to the Visya who have fought and bled and died for the protection of those humans!” Josie’s voice trembled with the force of her rage.

Her brother had risked his throne, his life , in a battle for the fate of this realm.

And what of Aleissande and the Visya force?

They’d put themselves on the front lines for the sake of the humans in Eteryium.

And then there was Vera, the Visya child who had been killed when the Bellare tried to assassinate Aidon because he’d sentenced Avis to banishment. Her only crime had been her existence.

“I didn’t say I agree,” Viviane said softly. Her gaze dipped to the table, her hands sliding into her lap. “I’ve realized the Bellare’s motives were far too extreme.”

“And when did that dawn on you?” Josie asked. “When a child lay dead in the street? When the Bellare stormed the castle? When my parents vanished? When I was pinned to the street with a knife at my fucking throat?”

Viviane’s eyes lined with tears. “You have to understand,” she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek, “I was…so angry about what Dominic had done to me. When he ordered Aya to turn me, it merely reinforced every horrible thing the Bellare think about the Visya. Even now, I’m still…

learning how to come to terms with what I am. ”

Josie’s eyes burned, traitorous tears creeping toward her lash line. She knew all of this already. She’d tried to be patient, to be calm, to be understanding. How many excuses had she made for Vi?

“She gave you the choice,” Josie breathed, wiping furiously at a tear that tried to escape. “I saw her give you the choice. You told her you weren’t done.”

Vi’s throat bobbed. “Me choosing not to die is not the same as me choosing to be given power against my will.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Josie exclaimed. “I hear your screams in my nightmares! If you think I hold you responsible for what was done to you…” She bit off her words, swallowing against the lump building in her throat.

“I cannot—will not—make your trauma about me,” Josie finally said.

“But your betrayal started long before Dominic reinforced your beliefs from the Bellare. I trusted you. I loved you. And you used that trust and love for your own gain. You chose the Bellare over our future the moment you decided to use the information about my brother to bring about his demise.”

Viviane sat up straight, her eyes flashing with some of that old fire.

It made Josie’s heart twist in her chest, a bone-deep ache drawing her shoulders forward, as if she could protect herself from the hurt.

“For someone who claims their uncle was a treasonous heretic, you’re awfully intent on taking him at his word. ”

Josie blinked. “What do you mean?”

“He told you that I planned to spread the knowledge about Aidon. But you’ve never once asked me if it was true.”

Dread was the damndest thing. It could eviscerate the heat of anger in a single swoop down one’s spine, washing away the flush of rage and leaving the skin pricking in its wake.

“That’s…” Josie rubbed at the bare skin of her arms, desperate to stave off the chill that dread had left behind.

“No,” she asserted. That couldn’t be; she surely must have had some evidence that Dominic spoke true.

She tried to rack her brain for it, but all she found was a tangle of hazy memories that had carved scars so deep, her mind refused to conjure specifics.

Tears pricked her eyes again, and this time, Josie was helpless against them. She hated the way her voice cracked into something small as she asked, “Was he lying?”

Viviane’s throat bobbed, but her chin remained jutted forward, that subtle defiance etched into her posture. “Ryker and I hadn’t yet decided our way forward.” Vi pressed her lips together tightly, but it did not prevent tears from spilling down her cheeks. “But I suppose that is betrayal enough.”

Josie wasn’t sure if Viviane meant the words as truth or sarcasm, but she found she didn’t disagree.

It was betrayal enough for her. Perhaps they would have never used the information.

Perhaps Dominic had exaggerated how dire a threat it was.

But it did not change the fact that Josie had trusted her partner, and Viviane had taken that trust and crushed it beneath the sole of her shoe.

The outcome was the same: Josie was heartbroken, the Bellare was in power, and Viviane…

Viviane was tangled in it all, so deeply snarled that Josie would never be able to separate her from the pain again.

“So what now?” Josie breathed as she wiped the tears from her face.

Viviane’s eyes dipped to the table again, and she scratched a finger against a groove in the worn wood. “I’ve been training with Natali. It’s helped. Using the power…clears my head.” She dragged her gaze back to Josie, her eyes flitting across her features. “That’s…all I have in me for now.”

Viviane had always been intentional with her words. Josie had learned to read beneath them, to search the places where Vi kept her meanings cloaked beneath subtext that sometimes only Josie could parse through.

Her admission was vulnerable, and honest, and also…a line drawn.

I will not help you.

Wouldn’t, couldn’t—perhaps both. It didn’t really matter, in the end. Either way…Viviane may have created the mess, but she would not be helping to clean it up.

Josie was, as ever, alone.

A knock sounded on the door. Aleissande ducked her head in, pausing as she saw Viviane at the table. Her gaze cut to Josie’s face, lingering on the tear tracks there. The corner of her mouth pinched.

“I need you,” Aleissande said, stilling Josie’s thoughts of loneliness in their tracks.

On the surface, it sounded like an order, a general speaking to their soldier. But there was surety to the words, a weight that did not hold a command, but something else.

A fact, perhaps.

It was reflected in the light in Aleissande’s eyes, a cool, soothing anchor that tugged Josie in . Josie let it.

She pushed herself up from the table, sparing Viviane one last look. “Thank you for meeting with me,” she said. She knew Vi could read her own subtext beneath the words. The dismissal.

There’s nothing left for us to say.

It hurt. The ache followed her with every step toward the door, and it did not disappear as she closed it behind her, even as Aleissande peered down at her, her face close enough that Josie could feel the tips of her boots touching her own.

“Are you okay?” Aleissande asked.

Josie touched a hand to her chest, where that ache still throbbed. It was different from the searing pain it had once been.

“I will be,” Josie answered. She rolled her neck, as if she could shake off the lingering hurt. “What did you need?”

Aleissande hesitated for a moment, her gaze shrewd. But she must have found whatever confirmation she was looking for in Josie’s face, because suddenly she was straightening, her eyes narrowing into that look she always got when she was strategizing.

“There were more protests today—this time outside the palace.” Aleissande grinned.

“It seems the Bellare fell directly into the trap you laid. They claimed Trahir should be independent of trade with Tala, that Visya within the kingdom should take up the weapons-making in service to their kingdom. Servants, just as the Conoscenza prescribed.”

Despite her pain, Josie smiled. It was working .

“And the troops?” she pressed.

That pinch returned to Aleissande’s mouth. “Most of the City Guard has been bought by the Bellare.”

“What of the Royal Army?” Josie asked.

Aleissande took another long pause. “The humans are…not unsympathetic to our plight, but…”

“But they’re angry about the division in the force,” Josie filled in. A division created when Aidon formed the elite Visya unit.

Aleissande gave a grim nod.

“But,” the general hedged, “I think you can help with that.”

“Oh?”

Josie tried to keep the smugness from her tone, but she couldn’t help herself. She was only human, after all, and rankling Aidon’s Second was becoming one of her favorite pastimes.

Aleissande barely refrained from rolling her eyes. But there was fondness in her voice as she asked, “How do you feel about addressing your people, Princess?”