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A harmonious cackle came from behind Naia, and she turned her head.
“Ambitious as ever, Lady Mira.”
The High Goddess of Fate stood with her arms crossed, hip jutted out, and a curve to her lips implying amusement.
“Ambition is the root of all power.” Naia’s mother released her and angled her body towards the goddess. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lady Ruelle?”
“I would have to disagree. After all, look where ambition has gotten an esteemed High Goddess as yourself.”
The air stiffened.
Her deadly stare held on Ruelle for what felt like an eternity.
“We shall see.” It left her mother’s mouth as everything did, emotionless. Though, a slight tension coiled in her voice as she whirled around and stalked away.
Naia felt inexplicably small, the size of an ant left behind in her mother’s footsteps. Disappointment for herself and the way she was made sank deep into her bones.
A title would be the thing to win Mother’s love, and while Naia might’ve been young, she saw the errors in her mother’s request. Title or not, it was not a prerequisite to her father’s love.
“Do not fret, Lady Naia. There is a divine fate that awaits you.” The High Goddess of Fate gave Naia a wink in parting before disappearing into a pearly white cloud.
Naia had little time to process Ruelle’s words before Cassian approached her. It appeared he looked right at her, but she glanced over her shoulder, convinced his attention had to be set on another. The contact of his powerful gaze made her skin itch.
When she saw nobody acknowledging him from behind her, she swallowed. Cassian’s presence was what Naia imagined stepping inside a vortex to be.
Recalling the protocol taught to her by her father, she bowed her head. “Hello, Lord Cassian.”
“Lady Naia, you seem afraid of me.” His voice was like a rumble of low thunder.
She kept her eyes downcast on the floor, the hair on the back of her neck rising from her name exiting his lips.
“You are the High God of Death and Curses,” she said, as if that alone was enough reason.
Her first memory of the High God was in her fourth year. He had appeared in her mother’s great hall in the middle of a feast unannounced. Before anyone could spot him, he planted his palm on her Uncle Xerxes’s chest.
Her uncle’s blood-curdling cry shook the hall, silencing the voices like the cut of a string.
Cassian left her uncle writhing on the floor. Within months, Mother was forced to confine him to the prison below the palace. The curse had burrowed deep within his mind, causing hallucinations and chaos in the palace, driving him into madness.
It was called the Kiss of Delirium.
Naia never asked what her uncle did to deserve such punishment, but after the encounter, Naia avoided any topic of Cassian.
The god’s mouth curved slightly, as if he found something about Naia’s straightforwardness entertaining. “Which frightens you more, if you don’t mind me asking? Curses or death?”
When Naia thought about it, she believed she could beat any curse with her mental fortitude. Death, however, would separate her from her father.
“Death,” she murmured, clasping her fingers anxiously in front of her stomach.
“I’ll let you in on a secret.” Cassian leaned in closer to her. Curiosity persuaded Naia to, as well. “Death is not as scary as it seems.”
“I imagine it must be thrilling to meet your new sibling, Lady Naia,” said Gianna, Naia’s assigned servant, as she led Naia to Mother’s bedchamber.
Naia’s feet sped up in giddy anticipation. “Of course, I am. I will no longer be lonely when my father is busy.”
It had been a year since Koen challenged her mother.
A year of tedious lessons on the training grounds, and Naia still had nothing to show for it. She tried not to think too hard about it, as her father consistently assured her it could take certain deities time for their powers to manifest.
