Page 133 of Jeweler to the Blessed
Macen fell to the ground, his body collapsing atop the other Feared at the foot of the dais. The crowd cheered.
Exhaustion plagued me. I’d put so much of my anger into the ring. I hoped they wouldn’t look too closely at Macen.
“Very good,” the king said behind me. “Now, Selected, to me.”
The grin spreading across his face said this couldn’t begood. He’d already given us the Blessed stones, what more did he need us for?
“You have each proven your dedication to this city. Now, I need you to prove it to me. I will take from each of you, making you part of us, part of those keeping Order in Kavios.”
He raised his hands and gestured for us to join him at the throne. I was going to be ill. This was everything I feared. Every part of my life had been designed to prevent this. What good was the ploy with Macen if everything fell apart at this step.
The task now made sense. Each of the newly Blessed were irrevocably altered by what they’d done. King Rodric expected to take sadness from each of us.
He wouldn’t be able to take from me.
The thing I’d avoided since childhood. The event Mother gave her life to prevent. I was now walking into it with open arms, and not with just any Blessed. Not with someone who cared for me, who would kill to protect me, like Hart, but someone who sought only to control.
What would King Rodric do when he realized I was immune?
He’ll kill you.
Thankfully, the other Selected were all too eager. My panic went unnoticed by most. Of course, I felt Hart’s gaze on me. But what could he do?
Wil got to King Rodric first and took a knee. Rodric didn’t even wait for the rest of us to arrive. He reached for Wil like an addict reaching for his next hit. The blue flashes shot forth from the adamas around his neck before I blinked.
The king needed sadness. How much of the sadness Elias collected at the Presentation had been for himself versus his father? I wasn’t sure it mattered. Everything I’d done would be for nothing if I didn’t act soon.
Rodric took from the others. My steps slowed to ensure Iwas last in line. Then he reached for me, and I was out of time. The dagger at my hip was heavy against me. I could reach for it. I could stab the king. Would that accomplish anything? It would buy me precious seconds.
“Sebastien! You promised!” Alaric yelled.
I turned from the king—to where Alaric’s shout was directed. Hart’s hand flexed a final time. The ring he wore glowed purple, and then the nightmares unleashed.
40
He has the potential to be a good man. I almost wish I could tell him more. He promised to protect her, no questions asked. Whether he keeps the promise if he learns all I kept from him is another story.
— ALARIC SARE’S LETTERS TO ISABELLE ARKOVA
Iwasn’t sure I was breathing. Something heavy plummeted in my chest, descending rapidly, sinking deeply into a place with no room for this information. This couldn’t be right. Hart strode toward me, and steel screeched in my ears as he drew his sword. His face was still covered, but I knew him. The shape of him, the way he moved—they were permanently painted in my mind. I couldn’t convince myself it was someone else, but if it was him, it meant …
Without hesitation, he climbed the dais, purple glowing brightly from the familiar ring he wore.
Everything fell into place.
The way the Feared in the alley deferred to him.
His conversations with Soren.
How he knew so much about the firstborn’s curse.
The fact that I’d never seen him wear adamas to wield.
The purple glowing on the first adamas we worked together. It matched the purple of the stolen ring he wore now. He may use it, but Iknewhe didn’t need it.
The entire room fell to their nightmares.
Sebastien—that’s what Alaric had called him. That was the name of Rodric’s firstborn from the history books.
