Page 57 of Godsbane
“Did you know?” If he did and didn’t prepare me…
“Of course I didn’t fucking know.” White-knuckled fists hang at his sides, his voice elevated and tense.
I approach him cautiously, careful not to corner him. His eyes bounce around the room, clearly not trusting his initial assessment.
“What does this mean, Cal?”
“It means that I have to play the dutiful, submissive captain while Marks tries to sell you off to Rollins. He’s going to publiclytaunt you, degrade you, and treat you like something to be bargained with. And I have to stand there and pretend like I don’t fucking care. Like we’re not connected and like it’s not ripping me apart.”
Anger that rivals my own stares back at me, but it’s the barest hint of liquid in the inner corner that stops me. The single tear threatening to break free from his steel-colored eyes communicating everything I need to know.
One word from me, and Cal would risk everything. He would take my hand and bolt from Gathe faster than the gods themselves could move. He would throw our mission to save Corinth out the window and I can’t let that happen.
“I have a plan,” I admit with a confidence I don’t wholly have yet.
“Of course you do.” Cal smiles softly, his hand sweeping across his face as he turns towards the door. “Keep that blade on you at all times, princess. And whatever happens tonight, know that?—”
“No,” I stop him. I will not allow myself to consider any scenario in which I put my own interests above my people’s. I cannot take anyone else’s feelings into consideration or else I might talk myself out of my plan. “Tell me later.”
He may be a royal asshole, but Governor Rollins does have one of the most exquisite manors in all of Corinth, second only tothe king’s palace in Amale. And despite his feelings towards me, the guest room I am assigned is no exception to that opulence.
A massive oak bed sits in the middle of the room with heavy, red velvet curtains hanging from the four-posters encasing the thick feather mattress. I don’t evenbother to remove my boots before collapsing onto the luxurious silk bedding.
The late afternoon sun is barely visible over the horizon when a knock at the door wakes me from my nap. A servant girl enters with a tray of food and lays it on the massive desk that sprawls in front of the floor to ceiling windows. She says nothing, only smiles and nods before leaving again.
My grumbling stomach pulls me towards the desk. A plate with roasted pork and a large heap of vegetables steams in the pale orange light. I eat quickly, watching the last rays of the sun dip below the Facet Mountains.
We’re still a few days’ ride from the base of the range and the river we’ll have to cross to enter the Diamond Region, but from the towering height of the manor, the outline of them is unmistakable. Until now, I’ve thought of reaching the Alloy River as an inevitable, a small landmark on our cross-country journey. But now … now I wonder if we’ll even make it that far.
The plate is long empty when another knock sounds. A different woman enters, the candlelight making her tan skin glimmer against the scant uniform her employer demands. Thick braids trail down her back in gorgeous plaits and I know the fingers that created those will be perfect for the hairstyle I have in mind.
She sweeps into a low bow as she approaches me. “My lady,” she says softly.
“Call me Ivy.” I try to not sound how I feel—exasperated, nervous, unsure.
“I’m Anna,” she motions to herself, standing upright again. “It will be my honor to dress you.”
Anna directs me to the open wardrobe, proudly displaying the selection of dresses sent by Kieran.
As promised, a red ball gown awaits in the front of the wardrobe. A taunt, but not a threat. Behind it, gowns made of exquisite silk, tulle, and organza fill the small space. Silhouettes in sapphire blue, silvery-white, golden yellow, and emerald green. Every color of Corinth’s jeweled regions.
What are you playing at, Kieran?
I flip through them carefully, bypassing the colors of the other regions until my fingers snag on something wholly unexpected: a simple, silk gown in midnight black. The color of the Dark God of Death—and the color of Captain Callan Murphy.
Magic squeezes my heart, not at the thought of publicly declaring myself a harbinger of Death, but at the look that would overtake Cal when he saw me. I shake my head, clearing away the momentary lapse in judgement.
Behind the black dress, hidden in the very back of the wardrobe is the only color I prayed to find. I pull it out, handing it to Anna before I can talk myself out of it.
“You’re sure, my lady?” she asks skeptically.
“Very.”
Amethyst is a color reserved only for the monarch. If I was a governor, this dress would signal my intent to ascend the throne. But given that I’m not even eligible to be on the ballot, wearing the king’s color is more of a formal ‘fuck you’ to his apparent successor.
I’m coming for the Lord General, and everyone here will know it after tonight.
Anna slides the gown over my head, my breath hitching as I realize how little silk fabric there is. Two swathes of cloth run over my shoulders, gathering just above the navel and clinging to my curves perfectly. I turn towards the mirror, admiring the low cowl that exposes my entire back.
