Page 121 of The Oracle of Dusk

He burned the latest missive, informing him that Batea was being led by the nose by bandits and dualists alike, pulling her focus in all directions and leaving Altanus, the capital, undefended on more than one occasion. No doubt some of his more scheming courtiers were demanding she prove her worth by seeing to every skirmish personally, hoping that if the capital were attacked, they could unseat her. Clearly, a number of his courtiers didn’t believe he would return from Viridis—or hoped he would not.

Aurora vexed him almost as much. He’d finally had her in his arms, her lips hot and demanding on his, and she’d spurned him. They’d been a breath away from rutting like animals in the open, and then the greatest passion he’d ever felt had been snatched from him in an instant. How dare she show him her fire and then leave him cold. It was maddening. Now, he burned for her, yearning like a witless fool. Perhaps it had been her plan all along. If so, she was a more skilled seductress than he’d given her credit for. Because whenever he caught sight of her in the temple, his blood heated.

He wanted to run her down and tackle her to the floors of the temple and desecrate it with her cries of pleasure.

He despised the look of defeat and melancholy he sometimes caught on her face when she looked at him and didn’t think he noticed. It was impossible not to notice her eyes on him. Like a caress against senses he’d not known he possessed, she tormented him with her nearness. Near enough to be reminded of her body crushed to his, the feel of her silken heat, the taste of her tongue, her skin, and yet not near enough to reach out and pull her close to relive the experience, to know if his recollection had done her justice.

The pain in his hand, his divine mark, flared again as prayers rang out through the temple. Theron swore. He kept a curse for the goddess off his tongue, but only just. When his next piece of mail was delivered to his room, he braced himself for yet more pleading. But it was from the temple of Knowledge.

Theron’s mood darkened further.

A summons from the high priestess of Knowledge. One written in neat, precise letters telling him where and when to present himself to Her Holiness, the wizened bitch of Boreas. Maybe she meant to taunt him about his mark. No doubt she would use her ability to purify him as leverage to gain some concession for her mad dog of a queen. It’s what Theron would do in her place.

It seemed escaping irritation would be impossible today. Theron sighed and headed for the temple entrance where a paladin was already waiting. They crossed the plaza to the temple of Knowledge where the paladins of Knowledge led him and his escort into Orithyia’s private office.

“You may stand outside the door, paladin of Justice.” Orithyia gestured to the door.

“Your Holiness—”

“I understand your sacred duty, but the King of Aureum will come to no harm in this room, you have my word.”

The paladin hesitated for a moment, looking to Theron for consent. He had to give the young man credit where it was due. Being such a stickler for the rules that he was willing to stand up to a high priestess took more conviction than most would ever possess. Theron nodded, sparing the young man the conflict. After all, this confrontation had been a long time in coming. Perhaps, if he were doomed anyway, he might as well kill her and spare Aureum from her constant meddling.

“Welcome to the temple of Knowledge, Your Majesty.”

“It is your great honour to host me, I’m certain,” Theron replied.

“If that is what you’d like to believe.” Orithyia smiled.

How quickly could he break her? As the high priestess, she’d never been involved in combat. The rituals of initiation for Knowledge’s temple were meant to test the intellect, not the body, unless one wished to become Her paladin. As far as he knew, she’d lived a peaceful existence. If he wished to kill her, it would be best to rely on his physical strength and speed to do it. He was confident he could silence her before she managed to call for help.

“My, what dangerous thoughts swirl behind your eyes, Your Majesty. Aren’t you curious as to why I summoned you?”

“You have caused a great deal of harm to my kingdom, Your Holiness. For your sake, I hope it’s because you wish to make restitution.”

“Ah, yes, Dia has told me of the drought and plagues of Aureum. Troubling indeed. But is it not the monarch’s sacred duty to calm the angry spirits of the land?”

“Yes, just as it is the duty of the high priestesses not to interfere in matters of state.”

“And yet you seemed perfectly happy to involve me in your dispute with Queen Flora.”

“When a dog snarls and snaps, is it not the animal’s owner who is responsible for reining it in?”

“Is that what your cousin does, Your Majesty? Reins in her beasts?”

“When it is appropriate to do so.”

“Because I have heard troubling reports that when the research outpost collapsed and Batea raced to the rescue, her beasts devoured the bodies of many acolytes and initiates,” Orithyia replied, her tone darkening.

Then whoever was reporting to Orithyia had been part of the rescue. When next he met with his spies, he would inform them of the traitor.

“Did your reports also inform you that your spire contaminated the mountain streams and lakes?”

“I believe it was good fortune that we set up the spire when we did. My people were investigating a cure for Aureum’s ills. But with all my researchers dead, who knows what knowledge was lost?”

His magic swirled around him as he clenched his fists.

“Your spire poisoned my lands, and you dare call it good fortune?”