Page 73 of Golden Queen
"I always imagined it was bad eyesight or laziness on the old painter's part," Madia said.
The thought made me unreasonably angry then, and even that morning, standing beside Tatana, I felt some edge of that anger return. The only other paintings of them were from when they were children, so an artist's lazy brushstrokes had taken away my ability to ever truly see what my parents had looked like.
The gallery door creaked open, and I turned, my heart sinking to see Prelate Vijohn stepping through the door.
I looked at Tatana, who reached her hand out to clasp mine. She was likely afraid, but I was only irritated to see him striding down the hall. The idea that he, of all people, would believe it was appropriate to follow us into the gallery, was laughable.
In Minototia, just the sight of me, uncovered and outside my chambers, would have been enough to have me publicly whipped.
"Your Highness," the Prelate said, his mouth curling up into a menacing approximation of a smile. "I do hope I did not startle you when I approached you in the hall."
I gave him a tight-lipped smile. "You did not, Prelate."
"Please, address me as Brother Vijohn," he said. I believed he meant it as a boon to me, to allow me to address him less formally, but I couldn't help but rankle at just the suggestion of a command given by such a creature.
"I could not possibly," I said.
His smile faltered, but only slightly, as he nodded. "Very well, Princess. As you please...of course."
The words felt like an insult, a placation, as though he was only humoring the whims of a silly woman. I forced myself not to respond. I was aware it could be my own preconceptions about the man guiding my interpretation of his words.
I had already had enough of him, though. Minototia's thoughts about women were well-known across the continent. "If you'll excuse—"
"The truth is," he interrupted me, quite pointedly. "I had hoped to gain a moment of your time. Your uncle has made it rather difficult to arrange an introduction with you."
"That is—" I began.
He cut me off again, his voice rising to drown out the sound of my words. "I believe that what Windemere needs is an alliance with the Undenary. It is obvious that this kingdom has been set on a path of willful sacrilege, infected with magic, and by the rule of those who would turn a blind eye to the immoral failings of the common people and the justification of the willfully, rampageously blind among us in their pursuit of unholy virtues."
His voice had grown in pitch and fervor, but the words made very little sense. I had the sudden realization that he did not think I would know that. Curiosity and some inborn sense of humor made me close my mouth and let him continue.
"If an alliance is forged between us, then the Minotaur will sit the Godsgrass Throne! The penitent public would have no choice but to fall in line before a willful, right-fearing force of humble servitude. Evenyou,a member of the weak-sexed, must see the way the women in your kingdom, like that proud peacock out in your hall, flaunts her body for all the castle to see, ruffling her feathers to inflame the lusts of men and turn their eyes from the Minotaur to the fleshly mountains of sin and the moist caverns of unearned tribulations! The Minotaur teaches us that only through temptation by females does a god-fearing man's mind turn to the sodomy and vice that runs rampant across the godsgrass plains. We must align Windemere with the Undenary and—"
I couldn't stop myself. The laugh had bubbled up in my chest when he saidfleshly mountains of sin, and it burst out of me when he opened his big mouth and sucked in another lung full of air to continue his diatribe.
The prelate's attention snapped back to me from where his gaze had been fixed loftily overhead. He began to tremble as he comprehended my laughter.
Tatana squeezed my hand, trying to convey the terror she felt with only her eyes.
I gave her a reassuring look and moved in front of her protectively as the prelate took a threatening step in my direction.
My smile spread viciously. My anger had unfurled into something maniacal.
"You, Brother Vijohn, have a lot of nerve coming into my city, into my kingdom, spouting your Minotaur bullshit about women being the temptation that leads good men to rape and pillage across the world."
"It is only the truth, as the Minotaur—"
I cut him off. "The Minotaur teaches you that men are such weak-willed creatures that all it takes is a pair of tits—or gods forbid, long hair, for them to be so overcome by lust that they are no longer in control of their actions?"
"That is not...that is..." he stumbled angrily through the words. "The power of womanly vice is so great—"
"So, you admit that we are more powerful?" I demanded.
"You are a corruption!" he nearly shouted. "A festering sore of iniquity!"
"That’s really rich. The man who followed me into the long gallery to convince me to marry him, calling me a festering sore of iniquity."
Tatana tugged on my hand. "Let's go," she pleaded under her breath.
