Page 111 of The Oracle of Dusk

“You see? I knew you were a good man.”

And as long as the avatar believed it, he was a fool.

Chapter 19

InthetempleofJustice, everything was blinding white. Pure white limestone columns held aloft a ceiling of the same, while white tapestries with the barest hints of silver threading flapped in the breeze. The floors were immaculate and sparkling, washed every few hours by acolytes whose initiation was a series of brutal menial tasks designed to weed out any whose convictions were lacking. All Her clerics hurried about their tasks, never stopping to engage in chitchat or distraction, and all dressed in varying shades of white and grey. The lowliest had robes more like a storm cloud, and the higher they rose in the temple’s hierarchy, the brighter their robes shone. The alabaster statue of Justice herself dominated the main hall, her diamond eyes catching the sun and throwing rainbows across the hall, the only hint of colour allowed within her temple. Her robe was the brightest white of all, accentuated by an almost opalescent sparkle, the same sparkle that had been applied throughout the temple for maximum blinding effect.

Theron felt ill at ease. It was little wonder that he did. Good kings rarely had clean consciences, and the mark of Her displeasure burned on his hand. In Her temple, it was an ever-present distraction. He tried to put it from his mind as he sat in the temple’s courtyard under the shade of a fruit tree on one of the few benches in the temple. Idleness was not to be borne in Her clerics, and so places of rest and relaxation were few and far between. It was here that he held court in miniature, healing any of Her people who came before him with an injury or illness. It ingratiated him to the people here, but only just. The mark tainted him, no matter that the avatar had vouched for him.

He would be glad to be purified and rid of this place. The only real upside was that he was no longer directly under Flora’s thumb in her twisted little display case of a palace. He might have counted Aurora’s presence here as another, especially since she’d been smiling and laughing more, but she’d almost exclusively reserved that joviality for Hyllus.

Worse still, in the few days they’d been guests of the temple, he’d not been alone with her for even a moment. Every time he tried, she managed to slip his grasp.

Even now, she was walking the halls in the company of the avatar, smiling and talking, her laugh carrying across the courtyard. He caught a glimpse of her in her deep grey robe, her ears and curves exposed. Unlike him, she was treated with all due respect. Priestesses and paladins alike allowed her to question them about their lives and routines, sneaking in objects of one kind or another to show her how they worked or were constructed. What valuable knowledge was she giving away for free? No doubt she was undoing all his plans to keep her insights entirely to himself.

Indulged like a child but respected as an adult, she was a beacon of light and life in this staid, serious place. It chaffed that he was not able to hoard it for his own, or even afforded the luxury of standing near that light.

As he finished his healing duties for the day, a messenger in royal green approached him, flanked by priestesses in white who eyed the messenger with even more suspicion than they did Theron.

“Your Majesty, Her Majesty Queen Flora has invited you to the palace to discuss restitution,” the guard said as he bowed and handed the sealed scroll to Theron.

It seemed the royal personnel were on their best behaviour today. The paladins’ investigation must really be irritating Flora. All of the witnesses to her malicious behavior were being protected, away from her influence. He’d noticed a fair few of the vivarium’s other political prisoners taking up residence in Justice’s temple, likely with years of horrors and gripes to unload on the shoulders of the paladins. Perhaps Flora would manage to worm her way out of the consequences, but this scandal could also spell the end of her reign.

A man could dream.

Then again, given her magic, she was just as likely to find a scapegoat to blame it all on. The head maid or the highest ranked guard, most like.

Theron tore open the Viridian royal seal and scanned the paper. It was exactly as the guard described. Had Flora mustered her wits? Or would Orithyia and Epicasta be holding her reins today? He tapped the letter to his lips in thought. There was no good reason to refuse.

“Very well. I’ll accept Her Majesty’s invitation. Provided, of course, the priestesses and paladins here can spare one of their number to accompany me. Given their investigation is ongoing, I wouldn’t want to taint it by fraternising.”

“A paladin is waiting for you by the door, Your Majesty,” one of the priestesses tipped her head in the direction of the entrance.

So bloody punctual, these servants of Justice. The idea of fashionable lateness was entirely foreign. Theron stifled a sigh as he stood and adjusted his dark grey acolyte’s robes. At least the quality was superior to the rags provided by the palace. It even had silver embroidery on it. Unfortunately, grey was most definitely not his colour. Yet again, he wondered when his own entourage would arrive. He should have received a letter from a runner the day Boreas opened its gates, and an entourage of servants, soldiers and more by now.

Theron tried to put his worries from his mind. He had bigger problems to deal with. Though he was confident he could corner Flora into making some gaffe or other in front of the paladin escort, his divine madness at the border was just as likely to be thrown in his face multiple times. On the other hand, if Orithyia planned to attend, he could reasonably demand she purify him. It would be nigh impossible for her to refuse in front of witnesses like the paladin.

Alas, by the time he was brought before Flora, the high priestess was nowhere in sight. Not even the princess was present. A boon. That sharp-tongued harpy was quickly becoming one of his least favourite people in Boreas, and given the company, that was saying something.

Instead, the obnoxiously green and silver hall was filled with scum as the sun retreated behind the clouds. He could smell the promise of rain. A feat, given the stench of those present. Viridian nobles of every standing jostled for space with wealthy merchants and other influential allies. Her most loyal and sycophantic toadies stood closest to her emerald throne. Her eyes sparkled with wicked glee. He almost smiled. It seemed he would be dealing with the mad dog today.

Theron made a decision then to grate on her every nerve while remaining perfectly compliant with every bit of noble courtesy. Let all her people see her for the maniac she was.

He tipped his head, refusing to bow and scrape and make himself lesser in her court.

“King Theron, the sun of Aureum greets the bounty of Viridis, Queen Flora.”

“The bounty of Viridis acknowledges your arrival. Though it looks like, yet again, your wardrobe is lacking for a royal audience. Have none of your countrymen come to serve you?” she asked in mock pity.

Goddesses, how had this woman managed a stranglehold on Viridis for so long?

“I’m honoured to wear the robes given me by the temple of Justice, where I’m residing while Her paladins investigate your guest palace,” he said, emphasizing her scandal.

Her face darkened with rage, her jaw clenching before she took a calming breath.

“It is a wonder they tolerate you, given you wear the mark of Justice’s displeasure. Tell me, blasphemer, does it trouble you while in Her temple?”

“It only troubles me that High Priestess Orithyia might purify me, as the avatar wishes, and yet Her Holiness remains busy elsewhere.”

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