Page 86 of The Rebel's Prize

Regardless of the seeming calm, she could almost hear Lucien telling her to sit back from the window. But she couldn't resist drinking in the streets of Lumia. She'd been back half a year or so now and had spent a good portion of that time away from the city that she'd missed so desperately while in exile. She wasn't ready to take its sights for granted just yet.

The carriage swung around the corner, and she saw the temple complex with the silhouette of the palace behind it. The dome of the temple gleamed in the moonlight, and the rows of lanterns lining the path to the main temple flickered and glowed.

Acting on a whim, she tapped the wall behind her.

"Yes, my lady?"

"I'd like to stop here, please."

* * *

It wasn't until she'd crossed the threshold into the temple that she started to question the impulse. She had attended the rites every week in Anglion, but knowing she was under constant scrutiny and that the Anglion dominas would kill her for her water magic should she give them the excuse, had suppressed any sense of real devotion to the goddess. Getting to know Domina Francis a little on her return had begun to make her feel more comfortable, but it would be a lie to claim she felt any real urge to offer devotion to the goddess.

Perhaps, though, it would be enough to regain some of the comfort the rites had brought before her life had been upended. Any connection to let her pay respect to the power that expressed itself through her magic.

And, Goddess knew, a moment of comfort and calm would be welcome.

Oscar and Lieutenant Evanne, the guard, had looked at her strangely when she'd ordered them to wait outside, but they hadn't tried to stop her.

She passed several dominas and priors as she made her way to the main temple, but they did nothing more than smile and murmur greetings. Some of the smaller temples throughout the city would lock their doors at night—though there was always a domina available should they be needed—but the main temple was never locked.

The massive doors were ajar rather than wide open as they would have been in daylight hours. She picked up a bundle of oil-anointed salt grass from one of the baskets sitting on either side of the doors and slipped through them. She would make her offering and be on her way again. That should satisfy whatever urge had led her here.

Inside, the lamps burned low, and without the sunlight coming through the windows that circled the edges of the dome and broke the expanse of inlaid marble walls, the temple was darker than usual. But the central altar fire burned bright. So bright it was difficult to see if anyone else was inside at first. She moved slowly, trying to keep her footsteps quiet. It was impossible to entirely deaden the sound of her boot heels on the marble floor, and two women, sitting on the benches closest to the altar fire, turned as she approached.

It took her a moment to recognize them. Not just any two dominas tasked with keeping watch during the night. Rather the two women who she probably least needed to know she had come here.

Silya and Domina Francis.

Silya's eyebrows rose as Domina Francis's face broke into a smile. "Lady Castaigne. Welcome." She rose from the bench, touching the quartered circle pendant hanging from her neck briefly, a smile lighting her eyes, her red hair gleaming in the light of the flames.

"Domina Francis, my apologies. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"No one who comes seeking the goddess is a disturbance to me, my dear." The domina gestured at the bundle in her hand. "You wished to make an offering?"

"I...yes." There was no point explaining her conflicting feelings. Easier to make the offering, make her excuses, and leave.

The domina, perhaps sensing her confusion, merely gestured toward the altar fire. Chloe moved past her and picked up one of the knives waiting on the tiled edges of the hearth. The metal was warm from the flames, the light catching the edge of the steel. She pricked her finger, the movement long ingrained, and rubbed a dot of blood on the salt grass before tossing the bundle into the flames.

It caught with a quick flare of blue flame, a dancing lick of fire that looked almost joyful as the embers sparked up toward the dome above. The sweet salt smell of the smoke wafted over Chloe, carrying in its wake a sense of...welcome? Or perhaps that, too, was just the familiarity of it.

"There," Domina Francis said from behind her. "That's the formalities out of the way. Why don't you come and sit with Silya for a while? As much as I enjoy my hours in the temple, I have other duties to see to tonight."

It was couched in a friendly tone, but it was more request than suggestion. Domina Francis outranked Chloe by any measure of calculation, so it was impossible to refuse. Nor did the part of her still bound by her duty to the corps think it would be politic to leave a foreign seer unsupervised in the temple if asked to accompany her.

She turned away from the flames, bobbing a curtsy to Domina Francis, who merely smiled and brushed a hand along her cheek.

"Go well, child," Domina Francis said. "All is as it should be."

It would be nice to believe that. But that would require more faith than she could currently muster. She took her place beside Silya as Domina Francis glided away. No clicking boot heels for her.

The temple grew silent around them, the crackle of the altar flames the only real noise.

"I did not expect to find you here, Lady Castaigne," Silya said eventually.

"Nor I you," Chloe replied before she thought. She winced, hoping Silya wouldn't take it the wrong way. But the seer looked more amused than upset, her icy eyes almost reflecting the firelight to turn a warmer shade.

"You are surprised to find a seer in a temple?" Silya asked.

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