Page 102 of The Curse of Ophelia

“What’s odd?” Cypherion asked. He knew. I knew he knew, but he needed me to say it.

And I needed to say it. “My father is gone, and this all falls to us now, but I don’t feel unsettled about it.”

With the death of my father came the assumption of a new Revered, and it would be Ophelia. I had no doubt that the Rapture and the Mystique Council would be uncertain about a twenty-year-old taking up the position, but there was no debate to it. The Spirits had named her the rightful heir.

It unfolded before my eyes, the life that would be built in these halls that my father had called his own—families and fights and festivities—and it felt okay. Better than that, it felt right. Like I could breathe freely for the first time in years, even though a shadow hung over me. One I would need to face soon, but not today.

“Yes,” Cyph responded, his voice a calming hand to the guilt I felt over my father’s death. “It is odd that it is all falling into our humble laps, but you’re right. It feels like something in the universe is being fulfilled.”

Tolek grasped my shoulder. “The fates and stars have always written a great destiny for you, my dear Malakai.” He paused. “For both of you.”

Both of us. Me and Ophelia.

I took a step back from the window and turned to my closest friends, grateful that they had been much more understanding of my deceit than Ophelia had. When I had explained, I saw the hurt in their eyes, felt the chasm between us, but I also felt the agreement. They would have done the same to protect those they loved.

“I owe you both the greatest debt. Ophelia told me how you protected her, both in Palerman and on the journey here. How you kept her from sinking into that dark place within herself.” The one I allowed to form by leaving. “That is an act I can never repay, but my life is yours.” I pressed my hand to my heart over the new linen shirt I wore, the material I used to don daily now strange against my scarred skin.

Cyph mimicked the gesture. “You don’t need to thank us, Mali,” he used my mother’s childhood nickname for me. “We love her as a sister.”

Tol removed a hand from behind his back and held it to his heart, as well. “Cyph is right. No thanks necessary, Mali. We love her.” There was an edge to his words, a stifled emotion I couldn’t place, and I did not wish to when I saw the way his shoulders tensed.

I lowered my hand and they did so, too. “I missed you, boys.”

They swept me into a crushing hug, and in it I felt all the sentiments we couldn’t bring ourselves to speak aloud. All the longing we wallowed in during those years apart, for losing their friendship was another sacrifice I made when I left.

“Let’s go see how poor your spearwork has become,” Tolek teased.

“He likely won’t last ten minutes,” Cyph added.

Tolek’s face lit up. “Shall we bet on it?”

I shook my head, smirking. “You’re on, but I think I’ll try a different weapon.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

Ophelia

Jezebel had assumed the chambers at the far end of the opposite corridor from me and Malakai, a wide stairway separating the hallways. “I do not wish to share a corridor with the two reunited lovers each night, thank you, sister,” she had said when I requested she move closer.

Malakai had smirked at her implication, and I felt the glow of his male ego from across the room. I had ducked my head, choosing not to voice the fact that we were arguing over his lies much more than we were in bed together—though the latter had become my favorite distraction. Not to mention the fact that the suites were so large, she’d never hear anything through the multiple rooms we each had.

It was a bit odd how we had all settled so smoothly into the Revered’s dwelling over the days following the Undertaking. The glamorous palace was lacking most staff due to the Revered’s actions, so for the time being, the six of us had it mostly to ourselves, warriors searching for work trickling in slowly.

For two weeks, we rose every morning, trained in the large arena on the palace grounds, and spent the afternoons wandering Damenal. We explored the city atop the peaks, seeing which shops had survived the war and which had closed, purchasing whatever we could from gracious owners. Each haggard face was another promise that I would restore what we’d lost.

In the evening, we’d settle around the long table in the dining room, draining bottles of wine over rich food. At first, Jezebel had prepared our meals. We’d offered to help, and often kept her company while she cooked, but it normally resulted in her yelling at Tolek for touching something he was not supposed to. For their sake, we’d hired kitchen staff quickly.

And after dinner, when the world was quiet and holding its breath, I’d stand on my balcony and look out over the city that was coming back to life. At the world that buried secrets tangled in threads of lies. At the mountains that remembered the heartbreak I was still enduring, and just breathed.

It was peaceful, but it would not last. This was the calm before the storm that I was beginning to fear would break over my head and drown me. The Chancellors of the minor clans would arrive for the Rapture within the week, and we’d begin restoring what Lucidius ruined.

I assumed no one would arrive from the Engrossians. That was another battle we would have to face in the coming weeks. For now, I let the solitude of the Mystique Mountains soak into my skin, rejuvenating my spirit.

I stood on a platform in Jezebel’s dressing room as the seamstress we had summoned fluttered about me, measuring and pinning and cutting. She wasn’t just any seamstress. She was Divina Delantin, and she was the esteemed worker of Mystique leathers in Damenal.

On the floor at my feet were the renderings Jezebel and I had recreated of our desired leathers. I remembered the nights we spent as young girls, sketching these awe-inspiring garments by candlelight when we were supposed to be sleeping, and the moment felt surreal.

Divina circled me, pinning scraps of material into place as I swiveled in the light streaming through Jezebel’s tall windows. Everything in the Mystique Mountains, including the sunlight itself, brought a new realm of beauty to the world. The seamstress’s expert hands folded a stretch of fabric around my hips, achieving the precise vision I had dreamed as a girl. My skin tingled in anticipation of three days’ time when she would return with my finished product.

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