Page 50 of The Illuminated
“Oh, hello, um, Abraham Weathers and Serena Thorn have invited you to their home for tea. If you’re not otherwise engaged, of course,” he stammered, bowing his head and averting his gaze. I didn’t recognize him from the solstice gathering.
“You don’t have to act that way for me,” I said, tired of Lucius’s pretend game of aristocracy in the castle. “To bow or avert your eyes. I’m not any better than you are, and I’m sorry that you’ve been forced into servitude.”
His eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing like a frightened fish. “Oh, I—it’s my honor, ma’am. I’m just happy to be here, in this place.”
I sighed. Well, I sure as hell wasn’t. “Thanks for the invite.”
He nodded, frowning and slinking away like I’d beaten him.
“Oh, Áine!” Serena exclaimed, ushering me into her chambers. They were bigger than mine, with a lavish dining room and kitchen, and a living area that led into closed doors to what I assumed was their bedroom. Everything was decorated in a cozy, warm aesthetic that reminded me of a winter home on a lake.
She gestured for me to sit at their dining table, which was set up with finger foods and tea. No elixir, thank god. Abraham entered from the bedroom, adjusting his cufflinks. He smiled warmly, his teeth impressively white. Serena wore a casual, conservative green dress that complimented the green of Abraham’s suit, and her hair cascaded in loose, blond curls.
“How is everything? I heard you had to go away on a trip with the Commander.”
I raised my eyebrows, unable to hide my honest reaction to the question. Nor did I feel like I had to in front of them, with their harmless, serene auras. I recalled how they told me in the throne room that they were different than the rest, and I believed them.
“Oh,” Serena said with a frown. She poured me a glass of tea, the aroma of flowers and fresh berries floating up with the steam. “Not a fun trip?”
“No. Not fun at all,” I admitted shyly. “There’s just a lot going on.” I realized quickly there wasn’t a lot I could reveal to them, no matter how much I enjoyed their company.
“I’m convinced the full moon is making people act all sorts of crazy,” Abraham said, sitting across from me next to Serena. He hung his arm lazily around her chair. “But I refrain from sharing that theory to many people. It sounds a little too…”
“Heretical?” I finished, quirking a brow. The whirlwind of events from the past weeks had me unable to contain my sarcasm. What was the point? Lucius wanted me to be his Queen, and aside from the obvious, there wasn’t a whole lot I could do to provoke him to kill me instead.
“You don’t believe in the merit of such a label, do you?” Abraham asked, his eyes alight as if this was his first time flirting with treason. “We knew from the moment you arrived that you were going to shake things up. We also aren’t deaf to the whispers of the realm, you know.”
Serena sent him a look. “Careful, Abraham.” She searched my eyes.
“I’m safe,” I assured her. “You’re right. I don’t believe in the heretic label. And I don’t believe in…” I hesitated, unable to finish the sentence.
But to my surprise, their auras glowed blindingly white in reflection of my own. It seemed my power had found a home in members of the elite, for the first time save Taryn and possibly Clarice. For a moment I was shocked to silence.
“We’re safe too, Áine,” Serena said tenderly.
“I don’t believe in the sanctity of the King,” I finished, emboldened. I had to put my faith in this web of moving pieces—this path of people and messages paved to help me on my way—and I refused to be scared of Lucius any longer. I could feel all of these parts coming together, Serena and Abraham included.
As if on cue the castle began to shake under the weight of some kind of magickal earthquake, the tea kettle and cutlery rattling against the tablecloth.
Abraham and Serena shrugged. “It happens sometimes,” Abraham said. “Please continue. We’ve been doubting the ways of the castle for a long time now, but we have been alone in it. We stopped drinking elixir long ago. We realized it was making us numb and not ourselves—like a warm veil of illusion. It makes everyone so repetitive, so boring. Like they are all content to drink and fuck their lives away until their last breaths, leaving no room to think or feel a single thing of significance.”
“So boring,” Serena echoed. “Mind-rotting.”
“It’s meant to be,” I said. “The illusion keeps you from questioning Lucius’s reign. It keeps you from questioning anything, really. Just as you said. He doesn’t want you to think. He wants you to dance for him like puppets. Like pets. That’s what he thinks of you.”
Serena nodded. “He’s not ordained by the heavens, is he?”
“No.”
“But you are,” Abraham said.
I shifted under their intense gazes. “I don’t know about that. But I’m at least ordained by the witches killed by his father and his wars. By the witches in the dungeons and the witches living as slaves. Lucius created an imbalance when he seized his power, and that imbalance is driving away all the natural magick of the world. It’s driving away everything, really. Everything but him and his darkness.”
Serena looked away, her lip quivering. “I’m sorry, I—”
Abraham clutched her hand, whispering something into her ear. I could feel their love from across the table as it rippled through their auras, which were fused at the center as if they now shared an entire portion of their souls. It was the most beautiful love I’d ever seen since my mothers’.
“We can ask her. She’ll understand,” he whispered, and Serena wiped a tear from her cheek and looked away. She nodded slowly, looking back to me.
