Page 88 of Scourged

Lights that were on, glowing bright, not a hint of a flicker. Thelunestairglowed with familiar pale light, not a whisper of darkness marring its depths.

Mariah sagged in Feran’s arms. “I told you. It’s fixed.” She stared again at the pillar. “I fixed theallume. It won’t go out again.”

Feran’s exhale grazed her cheek. “Next time, give me a heads-up.”

She chuckled. “Let’s hope there won’tbea next time.”

Carefully, he released her, steadying her with a hand under her arm. Mariah rolled her shoulders, standing straight, and was about to step down the dais when a flash of movement caught her eye.

Timidly, hesitantly, a delicate shape emerged from the shadows. Short and wrapped in billowing, pale gold robes, but obviously female. Her hood was pushed back from her face, youthful features open, strawberry blonde hair twisted atop her head in a conservative coronet.

Mariah knew those robes.

Her back went rigid as she lifted her chin, forgetting her exhaustion as magic stirred back to life in her chest and illuminated the tips of her fingers. Mariah released Feran’s arm as she stared the young woman down, her throne at her back. No longer would she be fearful and intimidated here, in her own palace.

In her home.

The girl’s doe eyes were wide as her mouth gaped.

“That … was incredible, Your Majesty. I have … I have never felt so close to my goddess.” With a furious blush, the girl gathered her pale robes in her hand and sank to her knees, the material pooling around her. “I am so sorry for not announcing my presence sooner. I woke when theallumewent out and came to see if there was anything I could do. Please forgive my intrusion.”

Mariah glanced at Feran, fury fading slightly into confusion. He smiled at her before stepping back with a nod, retreating down the dais steps and into the shadows at the other end of the throne room.

What?

Mariah slowly turned back to the girl, still kneeling on the marble. “Who are you?”

The girl’s body dipped as if she was releasing a deeply held breath. “My name is Liliane, Your Majesty.” She still didn’t lift her face, voice quiet and subdued, shaking slightly. “I am—was—a priestess of Qhohena, one of the worshippers who used to call this place home.”

Mariah was quiet for a moment, still catching her breath and calming her racing heart. Her magic slowly receded back beneath her skin and came to rest in its familiar place within her soul. “You told my court where they took me. You gave them what they needed to find me.”

Liliane peeked up shyly from beneath her bangs. “Yes, Your Majesty. But it was no trouble. I would do it all over again if I could.”

“You would stand against your High Priestess again? Betray her to those she declared enemies of her faith?”

The girl pressed her lips into a firm line before nodding. “Yes. I would. Because even though Ksee is High Priestess, beloved of Qhohena … you are her Chosen. You wield her magic in your veins. I just saw as much myself, only a few moments ago. To me, to betray you is to betray my goddess.”

Mariah was silent for a moment, watching the girl. And to her surprise, the girl watched back.

“Stand up, Liliane.”

The girl tilted her chin up further, rising to her feet, hesitation slowing her movement. Mariah stepped slowly down from the dais, striding past Liliane to one of the benches lining the throne room. She sat, brushing a hand over the smooth marble.

“Sit,” Mariah commanded.

Liliane paused before a smile stretched across her youthful face. She gathered her skirts and settled beside Mariah, the smell of incense and candle wax moving with her.

Mariah turned to the still-dark morning, visible through the glass ceiling. And sighed.

“How old are you, Liliane?”

The girl twisted her hands in her lap. “Nineteen, Your Majesty.”

Mariah’s heart clenched. Sure, only two years younger than herself, but those two years felt like an eternity.

“And when did you … join the temple?”

A pause. “When I was twelve,” Liliane said, quietly. “My family is from here—Verith. I grew up in the market district. My father works for a merchant, always working down on the docks. My mother wove nets and baskets and sold them in our little stall near the Bay.” She took a breath. Mariah kept her gaze fixed on the fading stars.

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