Page 26 of The Cruel Dawn
The Mera and royal caravan return to Gasho, and the city-folk toss flowers and coins at my feet.
Alabaster statues ornamented with chamomile and sage now line the courtyard. There’s Zephar and Shari… Is that Sybel Fynal’s image? And is that…Elyn Fynal’simage? None of these figures are taller than my statue nor are they permanent fixtures—they’ve been mounted on horse-drawn carriages. Moveable. An eclipse of moths flutters around the alabaster Celestial, and a few break away to find and flutter around the living one.
Ancress Tisen leads me to a seated canopy and rests on a cushion behind me. Her eyes are still swollen from crying, but hope has replaced fear. “Is there anything I can get you, Celestial? Water? Dates?”
“No, thank you.” I cock my head. “You aren’t angry with me?”
“You saved my life, Divine,” she says.
“But you wouldn’t have been in danger if I’d been there.”
“I knew you’d come.”
I make a skeptical face. “Really?”
She shrugs. “Isn’t that what faith is? Trusting that all will be well?”
“You could’ve died.”
“But I didn’t.”
“Others did.”
“And they are now with the ancestors, and you’ll look after them just as you continue to look after me.”
I touch the young woman’s cheek, and her glow burns blue again.
An older man with long, sandalwood-scented braids bows before us.
I nod to him and say, “Intendant Wosre.”
“Mighty Celestial,” Intendant Wosre says. “Most revered among the gods. The one who protects and guides us through battle and thought. Merciful and cruel, the most exquisite of the goddesses. With your hand, Celestial, mortal-kind finds the path, a higher calling, yet never reaches your perfection.”
Zephar, coming to sit beside me, mutters something that I can’t decipher.
Eventually, Intendant Wosre reaches the request portion of his grandiose speech: some mortals would like to journey to the next town over to re-establish trade, but they need protection as they travel these dangerous roads—especially after today’s assault.
I nod. “Travel mercies for the prince and pilgrims,” I say, eyeing Zephar.
He nods, beckons a nearby Eserime, and gives the order.
If he’d done that earlier…
I gaze at the crowd of Gashoans wearing their finest silks, tan and white linens. They’re carrying bottles of wine and ale, platters of roasts and figs. The bannermen hold pennants with moth sigils that undulate in the slight breeze. This is no ordinary day.
“What’s happening now?” I ask Ancress Tisen.
“The Celebration of Renewal,” she says, “in honor of your return. As you know, Divine, it is your right to take as many as you desire.”
Take as many… Oh, yeah. Lovers. Sex.Thatkind of celebration.
“We’ve only had one festival since you left us,” Ancress Tisen says, “and today, with your victory against the Gorga, the time is finally right for another.”
Intendant Wosre cries out, “Prince Rewyn Idus, Sixth of His Name, Starbound and Shadowforged, Chosen of Celestial.”
The prince takes his position before me, and he’s still shaken from the attack on his caravan in the desert.
The last time he stood before me in this town square, his eyes had lit up with roguishness. A master of seduction, his expression told me.How lovely and awful for the future queen of Gasho.
