Page 60 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire
Most surrounding Naria were from the Bamarian branch of Ka Elys, though a few from Elyria were there as well. Their jewelry all featured their sigil, the ashvan horse galloping over a golden sun. Most of their dresses were deep purple, the traditional color of Ka Elys. Those from Elyria wore orange. But Bamarian or Elyrian, all members of Ka Elys had the same golden-brown skin, silky black hair, and long faces.
Standing closest to Naria was Lady Pavi Elys, who would one day lead Ka Elys in Bamaria. Her aunt was Senator Janvi Elys, which made Pavi someone I should have paid much more attention to a long time ago. Naria hadn’t made my mistake.
“Lady Lyriana,” Naria said. Her voice was mockingly sweet. With a wave of her hand, the crowd parted before her. “I’m so glad to see you here.”
All eyes were on me. But they always were, I reminded myself. I stood tall, allowing my arms to fall neatly at my sides. “And I you, cousin.”
Naria showed off a wide grin, but her eyebrows narrowed. “After your imprisonment in the Shadow Stronghold and your expulsion….” She paused, letting the words hang in the air, tossing back her blonde hair. Her features were all Ka Kasmar, like those of her father Tarek Kasmar, the traitor. “Forgive me, but we’re all so curious how you pulled this off. No one without magic has ever been admitted to the Academy before. What did you promise the Ready?”
Hushed gasps sounded around me, followed by a few fits of giggles.
“I can’t decide,” I said slowly, forcing my voice to remain steady, “who should be more insulted by your false allegations. Tristan, for your insinuating I’d be untrue, the Ready, for your suggesting he could be so manipulated, or me.”
Naria glared in response. No one had objected to her insult; the crowd behind her had barely reacted. Rumors and gossip amongst lords and ladies were common, and I wasn’t surprised she’d attacked me and Tristan. But how strong was the unrest toward my father’s rule if the Ready could be openly insulted by soturi?
“You may leave.” I waved her off. Prolonging conversations only brought more life to rumors. The less of this conversation people witnessed, the less to discuss later.
“Of course,” she said. “I hope this new chapter in your life doesn’t interfere with your engagement. I’m sure Tristan and all of Ka Grey still support you.”
“Now,” I commanded.
Naria bit her lip, her eyes alight. I could almost see her mind turning. She knew exactly how to upset me—she’d known since we ran barefoot in the halls of Cresthaven. But in public, her actions had consequences. And she knew it. She bowed too deeply—a mockery of the gesture—and with a final death glare, she left the group. Several of the novice soturi followed her, including every purple-donning soturion from Ka Elys, dutifully following Pavi. Naria looked back one last time, and then to my shock, she greeted Viktor Kormac with a kiss on the cheek. She slipped her arm through his. Several silver-wolfed soturi followed them into the night.
I’d barely been home long enough to bathe and change before I had to return.
I stood outside the temple in my black robes with the rest of the novices. In the Oath Ceremony, we entered the temple one by one when it was time to swear into our lineage.
My palms were sweating when my name was called, and I stepped into the red ray once more, this time alone. Black shadows and incense permeated the air, thick and heavy. The Red Watcher of the light placed a black veil over my face, further blinding me. I stumbled forward, disoriented in the dark.
“Let the novice walk in shadows, let them walk through the darkness, not yet strong, not yet powerful, not yet a soturion,” intoned Kolaya. “La ha nuha vrata chayate lyla, la ha nuha vrata el ha lyla, aisha, ashukroya, asoturion.”
The eternal flame flickered purple, and I saw the shadow of my apprentice standing on the dais, waiting for me beside the Ready. Fear of who stood in the shadows pulsed through me.
Kolaya continued, “And when the novice meets their apprentice, their training brings them into the light of the Valalumir, and in that light they grow and find their strength.”
“There’s a step,” the Watcher whispered, squeezing my hand as I reached the Chamber.
My apprentice stepped forward to remove my veil. Black filled my vision as hands reached for my face and pulled the cloth above my eyes.
Rhyan.
No. Not him.The thought struck me without warning. But why not? He was an accomplished soturion, and he’d trained at one of the most brutal schools. We already had something like a friendship. Still, my stomach churned with something I didn’t have words for. Relationships between novices and their apprentices were forbidden. And I was with Tristan.
Take my hand.
The eternal flame scorched, illuminating Rhyan in gold. He was so bright, almost too bright to look at.
Rhyan betrayed no emotion—no joy at seeing my face but no horror either. There was only the slightest lift of his uninjured eyebrow. Someone had trimmed off his curls. He looked older without them, more severe.
His ruined uniform had been replaced with a newly pressed green cloak. He had elegantly skirted the pleats around his waist and draped the extra material across his shoulders in perfect folds. His belt shined with seven leather straps adorned with freshly sharpened Valalumir stars. And his newly forged armor was simple and elegant, black leather with a sigil I didn’t recognize—the face of a golden seraphim in profile opposite the face of a silver gryphon. The tips of their wings met above their heads, framing the sun, and beneath their faces was a full moon. The gryphon and the sun represented Ka Hart, and the seraphim and moon Ka Batavia. This new design showed his past and his future. The start of a fresh lineage here. A kashonim. His line in Glemaria had been broken when he’d been named forsworn. He headed a new kashonim now, could forge a new link. Ours. A lineage of just the two of us. We truly were partners now.
“You are no longer a child of Lumeria,” said the Ready. “You are reborn a soturion.”
A lump formed in my throat. I could barely breathe. I knew what was coming next.
Rhyan untied the belt at my waist, his hands brushing against my hips. His jaw tensed as he pushed my robes open, revealing a white shift barely concealing my breasts and short-pants.
In Lumeria Matavia, before the Drowning, the Oath Ceremony was completed with full nudity. A part of me was imagining it now—being naked before Rhyan. I was nearly there. And even with a temple full of people watching, even knowing Tristan sat out there, my heart felt like it would drum its way out of my chest as I watched Rhyan. I’d made sure my hair was full and loose to cover my back and hide my healing wounds and that my cuffs and bracelets were arranged just so. I’d expected my nerves to jump.
