Page 98 of The Cerulean Sister
99's hands squeeze unnaturally against the armrests, his whole body stiffening now under the same restraining influence. Only then does Lord Hollis come out from behind my chair, leisurely walking to the door, testing the hinges, and then shutting it with a dramatic lock.
99's visor is on me, piercing through me, trying to link our tether so desperately, that my head begins pounding.
"Are you alright?" he whispers, ignoring everything else.
I nod while fighting a sob that threatens to overtake me, finally able to move my neck freely. Hearing him sends a wave of emotions. The tenderness in his voice is almost overshadowed by the rage that vibrates with such intensity that it looks like he is on the verge of snapping his own arms off to launch toward Lord Hollis.
"We were not expecting you, 99th Commander. High Priestess Ferren and I were just finishing a meal. Are we to assume you and your Viathan soldiers are to blame for all this?" He sits at the head of the table.
"You have been hiding in your room for far too long, my lord. There was a coup. I stopped it." 99 does not take his eyes off me while he speaks.
Lord Hollis absorbs the almost hidden insult. "A coup?" I see his stubby eyelashes flick with rapid blinks. "How unusual, unlikely even."
"They were organized and prepared. Half of the Estate does not suddenly switch sides. It was a planned insurrection."
"And you just, what? Showed up in one of your floating goblets to stop it?" Lord Hollis laughs into his wine glass.
"I am authorized to be here by three worlds’ law."
"From what we heard, it sounds like you made quite a mess of our Estate."
"We saw smoke," I speak up, and 99’s inhale comes in so quick, I can hear it across the table, like my voice reset him. "In the direction of the temple," I continue.
"The fires were a distraction. The Estate temple is secure." He pauses, tilting his head forward like he does when he wants me to really listen. "As is the Temple of Divine Mothers."
Leema is safe. He knew I needed to hear that.
"Curse First Son’s followers and their insistent need to destroy the stones. As if they do not live on the very world it would affect."
"It would affect every world," I snap.
Lord Hollis turns his attention to me, like he always does when I speak out against him. When his idiocy is too great to not say something.
"Oh, and the blessed priestess worked so hard to bring them together. You must be distraught," he says with so much sarcasm, it makes me sick.
His cowardice and small stints of bravery swing rapidly, his control hanging on by a single thread that can't hold us here forever.
99 is suspiciously calm.
He has not demanded to be let out of Lord Hollis's grasp or even attempted to use his strength to test the hold itself. The only part of him that is not utterly still is his left hand.
I watch as he moves his thumb back and forth, then his fist clenches, shifting slightly.
"Yes, well, if you do not mind waiting until my personal guard returns to be unbound. You may be authorized to stop a coup," Lord Hollis starts, looking around the room dramatically. "But I do not see a coup in here. I cannot imagine three worlds’ law allows you to partake in more . . . personal matters in the line of duty. There was a question of your involvement with Ferren. The highest priestess will find your special visit very interesting, I'm sure. In many ways." Lord Hollis looks at me with a cunning smile, the suspicion written all over his face.
"That's enough," 99 warns him, urging him to stop the strange intimidation that has become Lord Hollis's favorite game with me.
"Is it?"
They stare at each other for too long, like the strange silence right before we heard the battle break out in the corridor.
My gut twists at the tension building in the room, bottlenecking upward with no endpoint in sight.
"I would ask you to join our meal, but I am afraid I cannot release you. I am a very rude host." Lord Hollis mockingly pouts.
"Or a very smart one," 99 says flatly.
Lord Hollis's jaw twitches at another pointed insult he is not brave enough to correct. He picks up the perfectly stacked platter of sugar bread and presents it to me, an easier target to relieve his frustrations. "But that does not mean the priestess and I must suffer."
