Page 65 of Amidst the Insidious Courts
There’s a steely determination in his eyes that I’ve not seen before, and I can’t help but wonder what’s happened to put it there.
“Wait until she’s dressed and fed,” Drystan says, and they share a look.
Sighing, I take a small piece of bread from the tray. More things to deal with, no doubt, but I’m starving and in no condition to tackle them right now.
Unfortunately, the food doesn’t last long. I demolish everything Bree brought with him, and within an hour, I’m dressed and ready, sitting in the courtyard with my Guard as we await the arrival of the others.
Kitarni is first, and I rise to my feet when I realise she’s limping and there are brown leaves scattered in her flower-strewn hair.
“What happened?” I ask.
She waves her hand, as if to brush me off, then stops herself mid-motion. “I suppose it is right to tell you. There are those who protest my appointment as high priestess. Each of the main temples has candidates lined up to challenge me.”
“Challenge you?” My eyebrows rise. “But… Danu chose you.”
“She did.” Kitarni hobbles to the bench beside mine. “But my position isn’t immune from criticism. I can be challenged if the other priests believe I’m not serving Danu’s will or the best interests of the Temple. If I am defeated, then I am forced to comply with the will of the grand clerics until such time that I can reclaim my position. It was a system put into place during the reign of the third Nicnevin when she tried to strip the Temple of the immense powers they’d acquired under her mother’s leadership. Her high priest agreed with the move, as do I—in theory, at least. Only Danu is perfect, after all. Accountability is important for all leaders.”
The dryad sighs, pushing the branches of her hair behind her ear, before continuing. “Currently, their issues with my leadership are as numerous as they are ridiculous. But none of those are your concern. I have yet to lose a challenge, and even if I did, you would still be Nicnevin, so it would make little difference to the pilgrimage. The temple can be dealt with after we have solved the war.”
“But Aiyana has no intention of pledging herself to me.”
“Worse, she now has Caed,” Bree whispers, guiltily. “And it was mostly my fault.”
My head snaps around to pin him with an astonished look. “What?!”
“I goaded him into fighting me. When I won, his glamour was broken, and he was arrested.”
A stone drops in my stomach as the ramifications hit me.
“What Bricriu is forgetting to mention is the immense impact your fever likely had on him at the time.” Drystan sounds oddly sympathetic, not an emotion I associate with him. “It messed with all of our self control. As much as he clearly wishes to shoulder all the blame, it’s likely that any of us might’ve done the same in his position.”
“Bram and Madoc are currently trying to sneak into the dungeons to work out how much the Spring Court has discovered.” Kitarni massages her upper leg with a wince. “There’s a small chance he was unaffected—being half Fomorian—and thus, his link to you remains undiscovered. Even if that’s not the case, I still recommend we work to free him. If not for his sake, then for yours. He’s your Guard.”
Drystan scoffs, but I ignore him.
“Aiyana wouldn’t dare use him as blackmail.” Jaro’s wolf flashes in his eyes, and he drags me closer against him.
“She’s already using the trial of restitution to try to get out of pledging her allegiance,” Bree corrects. “It would be wise not to put anything past her at this point.”
The high priestess doesn’t look surprised by any of these revelations. Someone must’ve already filled her in, and I try my hardest to draw strength from her imperturbable serenity.
“Do you intend to accept the trial?” Kitarni asks Jaro.
“He shouldn’t have to,” I protest.
Jaro is already nodding, though, and it’s him they all pay attention to. “It’s the easiest way for us to get her vow of allegiance and get out of here, without civil war.”
“Unless Rose uses her sparkly eyes on Aiyana,” Lore suggests.
“Even if that was possible, Aiyana’s magic is strong, and Rose isn’t experienced enough to counter it without drawing heavily—and obviously—from Danu.” Kitarni dismisses the idea.
Biting my lip, I have to admit she’s correct. “Still, it doesn’t seem fair.”
Jaro isn’t responsible for whatever his father did, and his father’s crime was simply falling in love.
“It shouldn’t be happening,” Jaro agrees, running a hand through his long chestnut hair in exasperation. “But everyone knows that Aiyana isn’t exactly enamoured with the idea of mates. We should’ve seen this coming.”
The appearance of a familiar shaggy white hound stops me from asking what Aiyana’s issue with mates is. Wraith bounds across the tiny private courtyard, licking my face in happy abandon, leaving Bram, a high fae male, and a child to follow in his wake. Behind them is one of the knights of Elfhame, and I make a mental note to ask her for news of Florian.
