Page 24 of The Blood of Gods and Monsters

Maeryn just shrugs and casts me an apologetic look as she moves across the bathing chamber to the clothes that had been left for us by Niall earlier. “I don’t know,” she admits. “But if he says that’s what they want, then that’s what they will demand. Caedmon has managed to hold them off. No one knows that you’ve been in the North Tower this whole time.”

“Where do they think I’ve been then?” I ask, curious.

“I assume they suspect Caedmon is keeping you hidden for now, but even his word can only last for so long. They want to see you, have demanded your presence, and each day, they grow angrier. Everyone in the Academy can feel it.” Her eyes turn to the window and even I note that the winter sky outside appears darker, as if a storm is hovering around the entire Academy. “Caedmon has sent many notes to update the Darkhavens, and they’ve thankfully given me some insight, but they’ll want to tell you themselves too.”

I remain near the tub as I watch her lift a new gown, just as long as the last one she’d worn—the one I’d dirtied in our fight. Pressing her biceps close to her sides to keep the drying sheet pinned, she holds it up slightly. It’s a sword gray color with black beading around the middle to form a faux belt. The neckline is square with a small trim of lace that matches the trim at the hem and on the ends of both sleeves.

“Another reason why I went with that concoction was because we assumed it would also wake you up and you needed to be awake by today because Caedmon cannot hold the Gods off any longer with whatever excuses he’s made. He’s been telling them that he’s keeping an eye on you and that you’re under his personal control. Last night, though, someone stole into his chambers here at the Academy and the Gods are angry that they found no sign of you.”

“They sent someone.” That’s not shocking. The Gods are rarely patient. What is a surprise is that they’ve managed to wait three days before making their demands.

“Yes,” Maeryn says, not realizing that my words hadn’t been meant as a question but as a confirmation to myself. She sighs and shakes her head at the dress before picking up the second one. Of course, Niall would bring both of us dresses. Like the first, this dress has a floor length skirt, but that’s where the similarities stop.

“The gray one won’t do if you’re meeting the God Council,” Maeryn comments with a nod before setting the second dress down and picking up the first. “I’ll wear it.”

Moving away from the tub, I trail behind her as she takes the first gown and ambles away to a partition that had been set up in the corner. Disappearing behind the three-sided wall, a moment later, Maeryn tosses her drying sheet over the top. I stop in front of the remaining gown and lift the fabric.

It’s soft to the touch, and a blue so rich and deep that it almost looks black. There are no embellishments save for the glittering gems that litter the lower half and string over the square neckline. The sleeves are two-inch strands of the same satin fabric as the dress and then a long translucent fabric that when I place my hand beneath, makes it clear that it’s just for fashion rather than for any sort of true usefulness.

“Can you lace me up?” Maeryn calls out as she steps from around the partition.

Blinking, I drop the dress and face her fully. I tuck the ends of my drying sheet between my breasts to keep it up and then motion for her to come closer. The gray is beautiful with her pale skin and the smattering of freckles, but I remember her in trousers and tunics, holding a sword. She might look beautiful and fragile like this, but I know more than most that looks can be deceiving. After all, that’s how I made it this far.

Maeryn strides towards me, and the skirts swish around her ankles but stop just above the floor so that I can see her bare feet peek out from beneath them. Flipping around to face away, she gathers the length of her wet curls and reveals the sewn-in corset style back that needs lacing. I grip the top string and start to work.

“I suppose the guys told you how Caedmon knew about me?” I ask casually, my fingers moving in increments as I weave the strands through their appropriate holes and then tighten the last section before moving on to the next.

“Yes,” she says, blowing out a breath. “It was a shock for me.”

“Did they tell you everything else?” I make it to the halfway point and tighten the upper sections all over again to be safe. The fabric grows tighter and tighter to her frame, molding around her as if it were tailored. Who knows, maybe it was.

Maeryn glances back at me once, her eyes unreadable, before she turns back around. “No.” That’s all she gives me. I want to ask if that means they told her nothing more than that Caedmon knew about me or if there’s more she knows. I don’t, though, because I’m done and our time is up.

Chapter 11

Kiera

Maeryn steals me into Kalix’s room to finish getting ready once we’re out of the bathing chamber. I can tell she hates it, her lips curled down into a perpetual frown even as I sit still and stare at the weapons on the walls. Daggers. Swords. Crossbows. His collection is extensive.

Slender, deft hands lift and twist the strands of my hair back, plaiting it into a long fishtail braid tied at the end with a thin leather band. Once she’s done with that, Maeryn calls for Niall to bring her a wooden box that flips open. There’s no mirror in here, so I can’t see what she’s doing, but once the box is in her possession, her attentions get worse.

Forced to close my eyes and sit perfectly still, I grind my jaw as Maeryn dusts makeup across my face. It feels pointless since now that my Divinity is fully unleashed, there’s nothing to keep my perfection from showing through. I tell her as much, but she merely snorts and continues her task.

“The Gods don’t just want perfection,” she tells me. “They want something interesting. Even if they are beautiful, the Gods themselves wear makeup simply because they grow tired of the way they look. Humans use makeup to look more like Gods, but Gods paint their eyelids and cheeks and lips to look different from themselves.”

At that, I snap my mouth shut and let her finish. Once she’s declared me complete, Niall brings her a small hand-held mirror and she holds it out to me. “There,” Maeryn says, shoving it into my hand. “You may thank me later.”

I hold up the gilded mirror, so stunning that it looks like it came from a God’s prized collection, and stare at the reflection that’s just big enough to show my face and nothing lower or higher. Somehow, Maeryn didn’t take her skills with makeup too far as I’d seen many a whore on a street corner do. My eyes aren’t some outrageous purple or blue that goes too far up or side to side. Instead, she merely dusted a light coating of pink over my upper cheeks and streaked my lashes with the same liquid she uses on her own to make them appear darker and longer. I don’t look much different at all, simply … more.

“Thank you,” I say and am surprised to mean the words. I set the mirror back in her hand before I look at Niall.

He takes the mirror from her and gives me a sad smile. “Thank you, too, Niall,” I say.

He tilts his head to the side, one lone lock of mousy brown hair falling over the side of his forehead with the movement. “For what?” he asks.

“For being my friend.” Might as well say as much now when I’m not entirely sure if I’ll live until tomorrow—no matter what Caedmon promises.

Big brown eyes glisten and his nostrils flare. After a beat, Niall manages to respond with a nod.

---