Page 2 of A Light So Blinding
Together, they rushed to make her look presentable. Astrid stripped out of her clothing and yanked another dress on. This one was stunning in white and gold. The gossamer fabric was nearly entirely transparent, although there were strips of golden fabric over her breasts that narrowed to a V between her legs. It hid enough, but would do its job as a distraction. Lord Tolly would be looking at her body more than her face. Beading covered the entire thing, tiny gold beads that dripped down her shoulders and hips.
A single bead pinged off as she moved awkwardly. It skittered across the floor, rolling underneath her desk, where she could see a portion of the letter hadn’t entirely burned.
The portion that still saidKing Egil.
Sucking in her breath when Marten moved to get the bead, she hissed out, “Leave it! We don’t have time.”
Harsh words, but the last thing she needed was the sisterhood assuming she was communicating with trolls. She’d learned long ago that it was better to be known as mean than someone who could be taken advantage of.
Marten hustled back to her, finishing brushing her hair with a harsh pull that made her scalp sting but got the job done fast enough. “Which veil? The partial face covering?”
No, she knew the veil she would use. Lord Tolly was a simple man, after all. Beauty was the only thing he cared about, and he certainly did not care if he saw the faces of the priestesses he housed.
She reached for the gold chain veil. It was little more than strategically placed links, ones that revealed her eyes and allowed glimpses of her red lips. It would bedazzle him with the tiny stones woven in between the gold. He wouldn’t look at the hollows beneath her eyes, or the way she could barely keep them open. He’d be too busy staring at her body and the wealth that dripped from her.
Astrid took one last look at herself in the mirror before nodding. “Where is he?”
“He was last in the parlor. He said he was entertaining a few other noblemen, and that’s why he needed you.”
“Shit,” she muttered before rushing out of the room.
As a priestess, her job was to keep all the secrets that Lord Tolly couldn’t remember. She stood beside him and told him all the things he needed to know, so he didn’t have to waste his time remembering anything about anyone. He was the figurehead, and she was the whispering snake wrapped around his neck.
If he were alone with any nobles, he likely had already made a mistake she’d have to fix later. Foolish man. He should have waited for her. Or at the very least, come for her himself.
The halls of this home were stunning, but she didn’t have time to marvel at their beauty. She often did, because Astrid reminded herself every day where she had come from. As orphans, Astrid and her sister had grown up in squalor. She knew what it was like to go hungry.
This house was everything she hadn’t had as a child. Thick rugs cushioned her feet, making her footsteps nearly silent as she walked. The portraits on the walls had all been hand-painted by the greatest artisans alive, and the frames were gold. Actual gold. The walls were plastered with wallpaper that had also been hand-painted. Everything in this building dripped with luxury and wealth that had no right to be spent the way it was.
She rounded a corner and headed toward the parlor, where she could already hear men’s voices. The murmuring tones didn’t seem overly upset, so that was a good sign as she headed in.
Astrid didn’t knock. She did not need to. She was Lord Tolly’s personal priestess, not just some acolyte who was trying to catch the attention of another nobleman. She was renowned throughout the kingdom for her work with her lord. No one questioned her.
The parlor was lit with oil lamps that filled the room with a peculiar smell. She’d never liked being inside a windowless room, but all of Lord Tolly’s rooms were like this. This one was decorated with the colors of her lord, greens and yellows, some of them rather sickly. The chairs were all in a circle, with a large table in the center. Already, maids were entering with food and drink for the visitors, and they would keep those options coming even though their own kitchen was a little bare at the moment.
Three men sat in the parlor. Two Astrid did not immediately recognize, although she would have to remember them soon enough. One man had silver hair that was slicked back against his skull, and the other... Ah, this was Lord Harwick and his son. Her mind raced to catch up with all the information she knew about the two of them.
Harwick was one of the king’s favored noblemen. He was not known to be a good man and had gone through three priestesses already. He did not favor the opinions of women, and he wasrumored to be teaching his son to take over for him. An illness was what some people assumed plagued him, although no one had confirmed it as of yet. Astrid would have to talk to the neighboring priestess, as she did not believe Harwick would reveal anything himself.
She strode toward Lord Tolly, where he sat in his usual plush chair. The man had been handsome when she’d first been given to him. She’d been a bright-eyed, new priestess who had sworn she would do whatever she could to serve him well. Now he was old. His skin was wrinkled. His hands shook when he reached for a cup of tea. He looked less like the man she knew and more like someone else she barely recognized.
He used to tell her everything. Now, it was a rare moment for her to be called into his parlor.
His voice did not waver as he murmured, “Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you would join us.”
She stood beside his chair and leaned down. Their conversations were expected. A lord always had a private conversation with his priestess when she entered the room. “I came as soon as I knew they were here.”
“Anything I should remember?”
“Lord Harwick is training his son to take his place; that’s why he’s bringing the young man everywhere. Rumors are of an illness that will take his life quickly, nothing confirmed.”
He patted her hip as if they were merely glad to see each other, before turning to the nobleman before him.
But Lord Harwick knew this game. All the noblemen did. He lifted a glass of brandy to his lips and salutedher, not her lord. “So, what does your priestess know of me?”
“I don’t know what you speak of,” Lord Tolly said. “I was merely about to ask after your health.”
Harwick’s brow lifted. “She’s only got that? Perhaps your priestess is losing her touch, Tolly. You should get another.”
