Page 58 of Godsbane
“One second.”
Anna’s sweet voice trails off as she rushes back to the dressing table and removes a small box from the drawer. She swiftly pins a brooch at the seam on my stomach—an intricate silver serpent with sparkling diamond eyes.
“This was sent for you.”
The image of the leviathan is uncanny, a near-identical replica of the beast that adorns Cal’s chest but with a much smaller tail. I still don’t fully understand why or how the sea beast connects us, but there’s no mistaking its role in our fused fate.
Anna directs me to sit at the dressing table and I let her cover my face with creams and serums and cosmetics until my skin glows and pinks in all the right places. She adds purple and gold to my eyelids before darkening the lashes, accentuating my green eyes until they sparkle.
I reach towards the vase of godsbane blooms on the desk that I grew after dinner, extracting a few and explaining the vision for my hair.
Her nimble fingers move quickly, placing a silver circlet on my head before effortlessly braiding and twisting the hair into something even grander than I imagined. Anna pins the deep purple blooms and green leaves into the plaits until the style takes shape.
She steps back to admire her work and I’m breathless again. She has transformed my tresses into an ethereal crown fit for a poisonous earth goddess.
She secures strappy heels on my feet while I add long, thin silver earrings. Standing in front of the mirror, I nervously run my hands down my thighs, exposed on both sides by twin slits that start just below my hip bones.
Everyone will be talking about this dress and the woman wearing it.
“If there’s nothing else, my lady…” she moves to clean up the brushes and pins that litter the dressing table but I stop her.
“Actually, Anna, there is one more thing.” I pull Cal’s ivory-handled dagger from my bag along with a simple sheath. “Can you help me with this?”
Her eyes linger on the strange letters and markings as she examines the blade. With a single nod, Anna drops to her knees and begins to wrap the black leather straps around my upper thigh. Her lips move silently as her fingers work to secure the buckles.
Curiosity overtakes me and I have to ask. “What are you doing?”
“Praying, my lady. To the goddess whose blessings cover you twofold.”
“And whose blessings are they?”
“Arcasia,” she says, standing to grip me by the shoulders. “May the Goddess of Protection guard you from the enemies who wait below.”
CHAPTER 22
What exactly does one think about in the moments before they overtly declare themselves the utmost threat to a nation’s peaceful transition of power? Apparently, they think about the absurd amount of stairs they have to descend in poorly constructed heels.
My hands are slick with sweat and my stomach is full of anxious butterflies by the time I reach the hallway leading to the ballroom. The thick ruby runner that lines the center of the corridor threatens to swallow my feet as I walk across it. Each step feels more like trudging through swampy earth than strolling casually across a rug in an opulent manner.
Music swells loudly from the orchestra that plays on the other side of the large oak doors, but I can barely hear it over the sound of my pounding heart and the magic roaring within me. I take a deep breath and will the power in my veins into submission. Head up, shoulders back, I steady myself and nod to the guards to open the doors.
The music reaches its coda just as the doors clang open. Revelers cease their chatter and turn to look at the source ofthe unexpected noise. Shock ripples across their faces at the poisonous woman who stands at the top of the stairs dressed in the color of their beloved monarch. A phantom wind flares the amethyst silk behind me with each step down the red-veined marble staircase. The dagger is cool against my skin, drawing a gasp somewhere in the crowd as it catches the light from the hanging chandelier.
With each downward tread, more heads turn, more whispers spread, and more sneers are thrown my way. A deep voice booms through the room, drawing the attention from me to the small dais. Governor Rollins stands at the conductor’s lectern, his rotund face the same color as the ruby dress coat he wears, rage written plainly across it.
“I am honored to host several esteemed guests this evening,” he begins.
Something tells me that he doesn’t count me among that number.
“Our most revered Lord General and the famed Captain of Corinth have honored the nobility of the Ruby Region with their presence tonight.”
Claps and cheers erupt through the ballroom as an impossibly tall, silver-haired man dressed in Corinthian gray steps onto the dais. Lord General Marks clasps Governor Rollins on the shoulder in a show of respect that looks almost comical with the extreme difference in their statures, before replacing him at the podium.
“It is always an honor to be among my devoted supporters in Gathe. You truly are the ruby in the crown of Corinth. Let us drink and dance and celebrate the great future that awaits us together.”
Golden eyes find mine in the crowd at the word meant for me:together.
Magic pulses frantically in my veins under his stare but I don’t dare break it. I let my hand drift down, my fingertips resting gingerly on the blade across my thigh. Time itself stills, stretching thin. My vision tunnels until it’s only me and Marks in the ballroom; everyone else is lost to the encroaching shadows.
