Page 135 of The Oracle of Dusk

“No. You.” She couldn’t form the words. Couldn’t speak her thoughts without gasping. Tears slid from her eyes.

“It’s alright. You’re safe. Everything is alright.”

But it wasn’t alright. He was supposed to marry Epicasta. He was supposed to abduct the princess. What was he doing with her in his arms?

“What’s wrong?”

Epicasta? That was her voice. Were they already at the temple, making a spectacle of themselves in front of all?

“Is she hurt?”

Hyllus? But what was he doing at the ceremony? He’d said he had no wish to be there.

Aurora shivered from her attack of nerves. As the princess and avatar came to her side, they looked on her with concern. Except one of them wasn’t Hyllus. The man sounded exactly like the avatar, but looked nothing like him. With his bright blue eyes and wheat-coloured hair, he looked more like Silvanus than the avatar of the first calamity. What in the Loom was going on?

“She’s just catching her breath,” Theron said, more assuring her than answering them.

“I knew we should have told her,” Hyllus grouched.

“The woman is incapable of keeping a straight face. It would have been suicide,” Epicasta snorted. “And on that note, we need to hurry. We’ll meet you in Aureum. You’ll catch her up to speed, Your Majesty?”

“I will. Congratulations, Epicasta, Hyllus.”

“Don’t congratulate us until the deed is done. There’s still time for this to go tits up,” Epicasta hissed.

Aurora took stock of her surroundings as her breaths slowed. Red. Everywhere was red. Not white. Not the temple of Justice, but the temple of Passion? Why?

“You’re doing well, Aurora. Not long now,” he cooed, carrying her deeper into the temple, the sounds of the crowds growing dimmer.

“What’s h-happening?” she asked, gasping.

“Just breathe. I’ll explain,” he said, his voice gentle.

Aurora pressed her cheek into his chest, savouring the feel of his skin on hers, of the steady thump of his heartbeat. She let herself believe, even if only in that moment, that she was safe, that all was right with the world, that he would continue to hold her like this every day forever.

“We’re changing fate, Aurora. Your vision has come to pass, but we’re not bound by the expected conclusion of that event.”

Breaths finally steady, she gazed up at him, his smile a brilliant beacon of hope.

“What do you mean?”

“I made a sacred vow to wed before I left Boreas, fearing that Queen Flora would use any vow more specific to kill my intended and blame me. But there’s still time to thwart her, to take the fate we want and make it ours.” He nodded at the statue of Passion.

Theron set her down, her legs shaky. He steadied her. At Passion’s feet, Epicasta knelt with the blonde man, and a woman who could only be High Priestess Myrina stood over them, reciting a prayer. The high priestess’ ruby-red chiton dress hugged her ample curves, the pink and gold embroidery decorating the hem, her veil secured atop her head by her ruby-encrusted gold diadem. But as beautiful as her attire was, it was the young man who aroused her curiosity.

“Who is…?”

“Hyllus. That’s his true face, one he hid with an ancient artefact. He’s the man Epicasta loves, and so to escape Flora, they’re choosing to be wed in the temple of Passion. Their plan is to escape the city before Flora discovers the ruse.”

A marriage that could only be dissolved by his death or hers, one unassailable by the courts. Not even Flora could undo it. Epicasta would have her freedom after all.

“But then you…?” Aurora looked up at Theron.

If Epicasta married Hyllus, then Theron would be forced to wed another of Flora’s daughters, per his vow. Just as the histories stated.

But where she expected resignation in his eyes, instead they sparkled with mischief. He knelt before her, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles with reverent care.

“Aurora, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

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