Their haunting, green glow seemed to watch me as I lingered at the room’s edge. I swallowed, intrigued by their eerie luminescence. What kind of stone produced such a mesmerizing effect?
Perhaps it was merely a play of light.
“Your Highness?”
Anderz’s calm voice jolted me from my reverie. I forced another smile, tilting my head, urging him to continue.
Onlookers lined the chamber’s walls, their presence obscuring the smaller statues and alcoves filled with shrines. Never had I seen so many gathered in one place.
Anderz guided me along an aisle covered in soft golden fabric, providing a stark contrast to the chilly marble beneath our feet. Sainte followed close behind, a welcome presence as I glanced up at Adastrus, positioned on a raised platform underneath Nothar’s imposing figure.
Clad in white and blue, he stood out against the room’s earthy tones. His hair, often unruly, was combed back, save for a rebellious strand that lay against his forehead. The freshly shaved sides of his head accentuated the dark hue, emphasizing his presence amidst the ceremonial setting. When I spotted his boots, my nose wrinkled at the pristine white leather. Such luxury was foreign to me. How many times would they require polishing to maintain their impeccable appearance? Surely he had servants on standby to attend to them at his every whim.
On determined strides, I approached, disregarding the smirk playing on his lips. Confidence radiated from him, but I countered with a vicious grin, reminding myself of my two victories, solidifying my position. This was merely a formality, a spectacle to affirm the gods’ favor toward me.
The note tucked close to my heart felt like a brand, a reminder of the Dire Wolf’s message. As I reached the stairs, the gaze of Nothar’s eyes, that eerie green, still bore into me.
What a trick!
A deep breath filled my lungs as Anderz stepped aside, granting me a solitary ascent to the dais. Sainte knelt at the top of the stairs, one palm resting on his dagger, the other on the cool marble, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.
Adastrus strode forward, offering his hand. The gesture of assistance twisted my stomach, but I accepted it for the sake of appearances. His grip was tight, unnervingly damp, and as soon as I reached the dais, I withdrew from his touch. With a sick grin and airy chuckle, he wiped his palms on his trousers as if he were actually nervous.
Several priests lined the back end, each representing different gods. Some donned colors and symbols hinting at their deity affiliations—light blue for Nellium, vibrant green and gold for Togamar. White and viridian marked the Priests of Nothar, their collars fashioned from polished antlers. One stood out among the rest, who held a dark cape with formidable metal pauldrons, each adorned with intricately carved sockets. A second priest took up the space behind him, holding a pillow with two stones resting on its cushion.
The first, pure white, the other black as onyx—the God Stones. They didn’t look like anything special.
“Ready, little sister?”
Something about his tone unnerved me. And as I took my place beside him, facing the crowd, a thrum of uncertainty chilled the blood in my veins.
I passed the other rites—I’d pass this one.
Faith in the gods, right?
I glanced at Sainte, seeking reassurance, but he was preoccupied, observing the line of priests.
Adastrus shifted his attention to the hushed, eager crowd, then raised his arms in cordial reception. “Citizens of Wynterborne! Friends from afar! I welcome you to the Rite of Favor!” He beamed at their applause.
Various emotions played across their faces, from nervous smiles to pure joy. Anderz, at the front, clapped, his observant stare taking in everything.
“Since Nothar’s seed first spread among men, this sacred tradition has upheld the natural order of succession and confronted those who seek to disrupt it.” Adastrus motioned toward me with a good-natured smile, even as his eyes demanded my death. “My sister, our long-lost princess, has returned to our great kingdom and presented me with the Gods’ Rites. With Nothar’s favor, I embraced this challenge! After all, it’s only fitting that the divine determine your leadership!”
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.
“We have seen, in the past two trials, indications of the Gods’ Chosen.”
I narrowed my eyes at the back of my brother’s head. Was he acknowledging they singled me out, that they granted their mark?
“However, those indications are just that—hazy and ambiguous. Distorted by the expectations of the people, and perhaps a few malcontent nobles. There is no definite victor from the previous trials. For that reason, the Rite of Favor is last! Finally, we will receive a clear answer, a solution to mine and my sister’s supplication. The God Stones have never failed, and they will not do so now!”
He turned to me again, a wicked smile on his face. “Today, we shall see who the gods truly want in power!”
My teeth ground together, a sinking feeling growing in my gut. Something was off.
“After much reflection, I won’t keep you waiting. You’ve heard the rumors and seen the signs. All of you wonder if Elspeth is their chosen. You shall have your answer!” He motioned to the Priests of Nothar, then to me. “Make your plea, sister.”
His voice dropped low, his next words only for me. “Begthe gods.”
