Page 116 of Between Fear and Favor

“You’re lucky it was just me at the door. His Holiness has returned,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure I was following. “He needs our help.”

I said nothing, but my hands began to twitch. What would I do if he recognized me?

“With only the one arm, he cannot care for the children, so we are going to put them to bed.”

What had he done with the novice he’d kidnapped along with the children? Shouldn’t she have been tending to them? Or perhaps she’d fought, and he’d decided she was more hindrance than help.

Juliet didn’t seem to mind my silence, so I followed after her, wondering what to make of this situation. Could I sneak the children outside and rift away by myself? Would that be enough?

I stifled my sigh, knowing it wasn’t. To ask the god for favor, the Supreme needed my blood. He very likely still had it, considering Rhia’s warning. If I had the opportunity to destroy it, I had to take it. But what purpose was there in stealing Declan’s children from their mothers? Descendants of the forestborn god would serve as decent collateral, I supposed.

Down a series of stairs, I followed the mistress. The air grew denser with each passing moment, and I wondered how close we were to the font. When Rain and I had been here to bond our souls together by drinking from it, the steps had gone downward endlessly, bringing us into what seemed like a cavern. Lit by scattered candles across the floor, it had even been almost romantic.

But now, the scent of mildew grew stronger, and the humidity made breathing harder as the wet chill seeped into my bones. I tried not to shiver. Eventually, Juliet stopped at a landing and opened a door. Behind it, the corridor was well lit, with clean stone floors, and a large rug running down the center of the hall.

Despite that, it wasn’t living quarters we stepped into, but a prison. The rug and cleanliness were a farce of comfort when each wooden door locked from the outside. A ring of keys hung from a nail in the wall, and I did my best not to flinch over the wailing babes.

“You don’t still have milk, do you?” Juliet asked, eyes trailing down my body. Surprise, more than anything, caused me to shake my head. The mistress tutted before breezing into the room. Had Sabrina birthed a child recently? Was she another victim of Declan’s plot to rape and impregnate?

“Just as well. I’ve sent for a nursemaid already, since the smallest two aren’t weaned.”

She unlocked one of the doors and revealed two wailing infants swaddled on the ground. Rushing in, I picked one up, swaying back and forth to soothe the babe. Mistress Juliet followed and picked up the other child. Questions swirled upon my tongue, but I bit them all back. None of her answers would appease me, and using my voice would only lead to suspicion. When both infants had quieted, the one I held in my arms burrowing toward my breast in frustration, Juliet explained where the third child was.

“The toddler has been taken to the font to make her sacrifice.” My entire body stiffened. “She will likely fall right asleep when she gets back.”

My exhale was forceful, but the covering over my face seemed to hide it. I nodded, turning away from Juliet and beginning to pace as the baby in my arms thrashed about to get to a breast that wouldn’t provide her any sustenance. It was a good thing Juliet couldn’t see my face because my scowl threatened to shatter. The idea of these precious children being forcefully used by the Supreme made me feel ill. A sob threatened its way up my throat, but I swallowed it down.

“In fact, why don’t you go fetch her? His Holiness would certainly appreciate it, I’m sure. He has a long evening ahead of him.” Juliet pulled the baby from my arms, and nudged me toward the door. “Don’t fear, Sabrina. He doesn’t know how tardy you’ve been this week.” She winked at me, as if she’d done the novice a great favor.

With no small amount of dread, I slipped back out to the stairs. Though I had no idea where to go or what to do when I got there, I took the spiraling staircase downward, one step at a time.

Chapter 51

CYRAN

“What are you talking about?”Elora demanded, her voice gone shrill behind me as I stared up at the Highclere family portrait. “She died when I was little. How could she possibly?—”

“I don’t understand either,min viltasma. A child fetched me, and when I went to the shack she called a home, I foundher,” I said, pointing up at the Highclere matriarch. “She was certainly rather haggard compared to this likeness, but it was her.”

Her dark hair had gone silver, and the sun had not been kind to her skin. But the woman in the painting was the same woman who haunted my gods damned nightmares. Because everything I’d done to Elora was at this woman’s urging, her face was the one I laid blame to even if my hands had been the ones to harm her.

“You’re lying,” Elora said, her footsteps growing quieter as they carried her away from me. “She is dead. She’s been dead for a long time.”

I spun, trailing after her. “What do I have to gain from lying, Elora?” When she didn’t respond, I moved faster, using my long legs to catch up to her with haste. “Nothing! The answer is nothing! Despite having a brain in your head, you’ve chosen to forgive me already! Why bother lying about this?” I hissed, grabbing for her hand as she marched away from me.

She stopped, wrenching her arm out of my grasp. “I don’t know, Cy! Why would you do any of the daft things you do?”

“I hardly think that’s fair, Elora.”

She shoved me, and that was when I saw the tears in her eyes. Elora believed me, and that was the reason for her pained expression. Because if I spoke the truth, that meant something far worse.

“Nothing is fair!” she shouted, before stumbling back into the wall. Sliding down the wainscoting, she landed in a heap on the hallway floor. “Nothing is fair,” she whispered.

Carefully, as if approaching a wild boar, I sat down beside her. The butter-yellow of her dress matched the patterned rug beneath us, and I thought to distract her with a clever insult about her styling choices being better suited to carpeting. But the absolute despair emanating from her slim frame stayed my tongue. She didn’t need distraction; she needed comfort.

And despite knowing I needed to stay away—to protect her—I put my arm around her instead. This poor girl had been hurt by so many people, myself included. This was another name added to the long list of those who had betrayed her. Desperately, I wished I could cross my name off it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Thyra at the end of the hall. She hovered, but I was grateful she didn’t come marching towards us and force me to move away from Elora.

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