Page 195 of A Crown of Tears and Treason
I suddenly felt so decadently powerful, the strength of a thousand men at my fingertips. It was humbling to witness his force with no barrier. So strong. So controlled.
Look at me. Look. At. Me.
I kept my eyes glued to our intertwined hands, blood trickling from our fingers. Despite the pull. Despite how mybody begged to lean into him, as if he could save me from this ugly reality he’d kept from me. The priests coiled the golden rope around our hands, caging us. A shiver raced through me as the memory of my tied hands invaded my mind.
Zandyr drank first from the chalice, licking his crimson lips. I could swear there was a growl scratching the back of his throat.
My first gulp coated my tongue, the liquid burrowing deep inside me. A hunger, unlike any I’ve ever felt, bottomless and frightening, took hold. I drank and drank, not bothering to wipe the small dribble that escaped my lips. This liquid was intoxicating. Sweeter than honey and more potent than any drug.
Only when the chalice was fully empty did I lower it. I licked my lips. From the horrified faces of the priests, I must’ve looked like a beast.
Good. Let them know claws lurked underneath this small frame of mine.
The moment our palms disentangled, a quake burst through me. Like my very foundation had been shattered. In front of me, Zandyr’s body gave one tremble.
I still didn’t meet his eyes. I never wanted to look into that blue gaze again and be mesmerized. Or worse, have him know exactly how much it pained me to stand next to him. That truth needed to remain a secret, only for my thoughts and my suffering.
The choir sang louder, the crowd clapped harder, and my heart broke all over again.
I blinked and we were all out in the sun, standing on the temple stairs. I felt Adara’s stoic presence somewhere to my left.
Zandyr and Kaya threw their letters into the cauldron first. Both envelopes were crimson and gold, a perfect match. The embers sputtered and swallowed the paper, turning it into ash in a blink. A thin tendril of white smoke snaked upwards.
“It’s white, it’s pure,” Valuta trilled from behind. “And aimed up at the sky, so their love can soar.”
That was a very generous interpretation of the sputter we had all witnessed, but excited whispers echoed in the crowd all the same. Were they so easy to sway? Or had some of them been instructed to sound elated?
Then came my turn.
Zandyr took out my letter, the seal untouched, same as mine. But while he ran his fingers along its blue edges and placed it gingerly in the cauldron, I simply flung mine in.
The embers hissed and ate the envelopes, the seals melting on top of them.
Maybe it was the wax.
Maybe the gods truly had a grim sense of humor.
A great big billow of smoke, dark and menacing, erupted toward the sky, then crawled down the stairs, hovering over the shocked crowd.
Silence descended. I didn’t know if this was a bad omen or a sign of good luck.
I heard one lone clap.
Then another and another, until the mass of people began to cheer.
Zandyr’s eyes burned the side of my face.
Still, I didn’t look at him. My stinging, reddening eyes focused on the smoke choking the crowd, scattering my own hopes and dreams into nothing.
Chapter
Sixty-Three
EVIE
The walk back to my house was a funeral procession.
In the distance, the drums still beat into the night, revelers shouting in tune with the joyous rhythm.
