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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

ALIE

All that happens in the night eventually faces the light of day.

—Eroccan proverb

S he knew when the change happened. When he turned from Bastian to Apollius, her brother drowned in the god who’d stolen him. His back straightened; His shoulders evened out. The line of His mouth went cruel. His eyes glimmered golden in the light of the Sanctuary candles.

“Well,” He said, looking around. “What an interesting place to find Myself in the dead of night.”

Alie clenched the ring in her dressing gown pocket, the prongs digging into the meat of her palm. Bastian had told her Apollius couldn’t look into what he was doing while he had control of the body—the god had cut that cord when He fully took over. But that didn’t mean He couldn’t figure it out.

“Thank You.” The woman with the sick son cared about nothing but the fact that he was healed, paying no mind to the Sainted King’s slight changes in demeanor.

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she hugged the child to her chest. “Thank You so much. We knew the world would become better, now that You’re here.

Everything will be made right, the earth a reflection of Your Shining Realm. ”

Something shuttered in Apollius’s eyes at that. The sight of a god taken aback was an odd one.

But He clearly enjoyed the praise. He straightened and smiled, banishing the momentary unease that had flickered over His expression. “That’s why I’m here,” He said, ruffling the little boy’s hair, the gesture stilted. “To make the world better.”

The boy, for his part, mostly just seemed confused. His eyes kept swinging from his mother to the King, his pale brows drawn low and his hand fluttering around his chest, as if something was different there but he couldn’t decide what.

“You got your miracle.” Sophie didn’t sound gruff, but she put on a stern expression as she stepped forward and waved toward the door. “The God of All Things is merciful.”

“Oh, He is, He is.” The woman bowed the whole way out the door, the endeavor taking much longer than it should as she kept turning around to do it. “I’ll tell everyone of Your love and grace, my God, of Your goodness…”

Alie’s grip on the ring tightened with every word.

When the woman and her son were finally gone, Sophie looked back at Apollius, questions that she wouldn’t dare ask written clear across her face. After a moment, she went back to her post at the front of the Sanctuary in silence.

Beyond the stained-glass windows, the first fingers of dawn stretched into the sky.

It strengthened Apollius, made Him shake off the last dregs of Bastian. He tipped up His chin, closed His golden eyes, breathed deep. Then He vised His hand around Alie’s wrist, and they marched out of the Church and onto the green.

“Now, Alienor,” He said conversationally. “Care to tell Me why you and I were in the South Sanctuary in the middle of the night?”

Once again, Alie was desperately thankful that she was able to lie to Him. “I was praying.”

Apollius scoffed. “You don’t expect Me to believe that .”

“It’s customary for brides to pray nightly for the month before they’re married.

” This part wasn’t even a lie, though the tradition wasn’t strictly upheld.

Embroidering your lies with truth made them more believable.

She’d learned that from Lore. “I might not be pious, nor feel that there is anything worth praying to, but it wasn’t like I could sleep, anyway. ”

He smirked at her.

They passed Apollius’s statue on the green, the empty plinths where the rest of the pantheon had stood now housing pots of roses. “He’s stronger than I thought,” the god mused softly.

“He wasn’t here for long.” Pointless to pretend that Bastian hadn’t taken over at all. “He was confused, like he didn’t know why he’d come to the Church. But he managed to heal the boy.”

“Surprising that he would do anything to raise Me in public estimation.”

“Bastian cares about people,” Alie said. “He’s not like You.”

“You think too highly of him, but I appreciate your candor.” Apollius grinned. “I see us having a fruitful partnership, if you finally come around to the fact that I’ve won.”

If. She didn’t want to think about what He’d do if she never came around. She doubted Jax could save her then.

Apollius headed back up the turret to the King’s apartments.

Alie lingered in the foyer, not wanting to obligate herself to walk with Him, nervously watching the sun creep over the horizon in the window.

Part of her wanted to pull out the ring and try to decipher whatever map was hidden within it right here, but the chances of someone seeing were too high, even this early.

So she dawdled long enough to give Apollius plenty of head start, then bolted up the stairs.

As soon as her door closed, Alie pulled out the ring and hurried over to her window, throwing back the curtain. The sun was over halfway in the sky now, and Alie held up the ring so the morning light blazed through the heart of the gold-tinged diamond.

And… nothing.

The inside of the diamond glowed beautifully.

She could see the facets where the stone had been cut and polished and nestled into its setting.

But there was no map of any kind, and when she twisted it back and forth, no helpful beams of light shot out.

There was nothing to suggest this was anything more than a normal, albeit very beautiful, piece of jewelry.

“Shit,” Alie murmured.

Studying the diamond, turning it over in her hands with increasing desperation, made her think of Brigitte. Her friend who dabbled in jewelry, who’d been the first to notice that Lore’s ring was Mount-mined.

And thinking of Brigitte made her remember that she was supposed to have breakfast with her this morning.

“Shit,” she murmured again, and ran for her closet.

She and Brigitte had tried to be very intentional about their friendship, after what happened with Dani.

Bri and Dani had always been closer than Alie and Dani were, so Bri took Dani’s sentencing much harder.

Alie knew that Brigitte still wasn’t sure how to feel about her best friend being sent to the Burnt Isles.

There was no way she could understand the necessity without knowing everything else.

So many times, Alie had come close to telling her, but when it came down to it, she just didn’t have the language to explain the nuances.

And Brigitte had been brought up in the Church, just like Alie.

Maybe she’d think that Lore should have died. Maybe she’d think Apollius was right.

Alie had so few people left. She couldn’t risk that.

Her eyes were gummy and her throat felt scoured, her bed calling out to her. Alie ignored it, dressing herself and starting down the hall.

The apartment Bri shared with her parents and brother was one floor down from Alie, much larger than the one she lived in on her own.

She’d always been equal parts jealous and confused by the close relationship Brigitte had with her family.

Parents who loved each other and their children unconditionally were a foreign concept.

She was ashamed of how it made her suspicious, but Alie had never experienced a familial love not fringed by enough strings to hang yourself with.

Bri opened the door when she knocked, her locs worn long down her back, a dressing gown closed over her chemise. She yawned, smiled. “Apologies for not being dressed. I didn’t want to.”

Alie laughed and hugged her friend. A small table was set up in the sitting room behind her, pastries and a pot of fragrant tea.

Bruneau, Brigitte’s brother, grabbed one of the cakes as he hurried across the room, throwing Alie a wave.

He was in a similar state of undress and similarly unbothered by it, wearing only his chest binder and a pair of loose trousers.

They settled at the table, Bri pouring Alie tea. “Maybe I should send for coffee instead. You look exhausted.”

“I’m not sleeping well.”

Bri pressed her lips together, nervously playing with the end of one of her locs. “Wedding preparations?”

They’d only spoken of this once. Right after Lore was sent to the Burnt Isles, right after Alie’s true parentage was revealed and she was betrothed to Jax.

Brigitte had encouraged her to fight against it if this wasn’t what she wanted.

It’d made Alie want to laugh and cry at the same time.

Her friend had no concept of being forced by family into things she didn’t want.

So Alie lied. Alie made it sound like she’d come around to the idea of marrying Jax. Because unless they managed to somehow repair the Fount and banish Apollius from Bastian’s body, she really had no choice, and she didn’t have the energy to perform defiance.

Alie nodded over the rim of her mug. “The date has moved up. I requested it.”

“From the King,” Brigitte added. A doorway into another conversation, one that hung around the Citadel like fog on the morning ocean. “From Apollius.”

As far as Alie knew, Brigitte’s family wasn’t any more religious than your average courtier, well-versed in the steps of piety without really believing.

But people had reacted to Apollius’s reveal in ways that weren’t commensurate with Alie’s knowledge of their devoutness.

Avery Marmont, who had told her when they were children that he didn’t think any of the gods actually existed, had been seen silently weeping in front of the statue on the green.

Yvonne Gilliard, another childhood friend, had asked her if she wanted to be part of a prayer circle she was starting every morning at dawn in the North Sanctuary.

She had to tread lightly here. “Yes,” she said quietly. “From Apollius.”

Brigitte frowned down into her tea. “You know,” she murmured, low as a secret, “I’m not sure if I believe it.”

Alie gnawed her bottom lip.