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More like a man to his god.
“To do this,” Apollius continued, acknowledging Jax’s bow with a nod, “we must unite our families. We cannot ask of the continent what we cannot do ourselves.”
No mention of Alie’s power. No mention of the god in her mind. It should reassure Lore, maybe, make her think that Apollius wouldn’t chase Gabe and Malcolm, maybe He didn’t know Alie had Lereal’s share from the Fount.
But it didn’t. It just made her wonder how much worse His plan for all of them must be.
“Bastian.” Alie’s voice was thin. A tremble started in her still-bound hands. “Bastian, please.”
Apollius looked at her through Bastian’s eyes. He didn’t say anything, but He gave her a tiny smile, a tiny shake of His head. There was no Bastian, not anymore.
Nausea clawed at Lore’s throat.
Moving slowly, like Alie was an animal he didn’t want to startle, Jax stepped off the dais. “I will do my best to be a good husband to you, Alienor.” Gingerly, he took her trembling hand, closed it in his own. “Our union will bring about the union of the Enean continent, and then the world.”
Alie didn’t say anything. Her cheeks were blanched beneath her freckles.
“Now that one betrothal is made,” Apollius said, finally standing, “another ends.”
Lore closed her eyes again, not wanting to see Him walk forward, not wanting to watch Him use Bastian’s body like a puppet. Murmurs rose around her, sickly pleased. Here was the justice they were after. Finally, an end to the hemlock Queen, this pretender who should never have been allowed among them.
She didn’t open her eyes even as she felt Him take her hand, felt Him adjust the engagement ring on her finger. “Showtime, beloved,” He murmured, so close she could feel His lips brush the shell of her ear.
“I’m not your beloved,” Lore murmured back, her nails clawing into His hand. It reminded her of last night, and her heart lurched even as her eyes opened, glaring at one of the golden frescoes on the wall instead of looking at Him. “She’s not, either. And She’s not here.”
“She’s always here.” His hand came to her cheek, forced her to turn toward His face. Bastian’s face, but changed, the angles sharper, all traces of joy gone. No one who didn’t love him would notice. Just her and Gabe.
“She’s always in your head,” Apollius continued, still whispering. “And now that She’s had Her first death, Her hold on you will be even stronger.” His grip tightened. “Did you like that, Lore? Seeing us fuck in Her memories? Seemed only fair that I look in on yours, too.”
She snarled wordlessly, but Apollius was leaning back, gesturing toward the throne again. “Alexis, if you please? Just the bare-bones vows will do.” He grinned, pitching His voice to carry. “I know you all expected a sentencing. For my betrothed to be sent to the Burnt Isles for the murder of Amelia Demonde. But I’ve received word from Farramark, where pieces of the ship that exploded those weeks past have been tested. Amelia Demonde was responsible.”
Shocked gasps from the crowd. One from Lore, too. What game was He playing now?
Apollius held her eyes, smiled. “Lore discovered Amelia’s guilt before the rest of us, using her power,” He said, “and meted out justice. We should thank her, not punish her. And that is why I’m making her my Queen. Today.”
Lore didn’t buckle. Her knees stayed locked and firm, her hands didn’t tremble in her shackles. But she did hiss in a breath, sharp, and the silence of the room made it echo.
The god seemed almost disappointed that He hadn’t gotten more of a reaction. He gave her one long look, His eyes glittering, then waved Alexis forward.
Alexis, for their part, looked completely out of their element. They wore white robes, hiding their Presque Mort black—Lore almost expected to see the Bleeding God’s Heart pendant hanging from their neck, a hastily made appointment now that one Priest Exalted was gone, but it wasn’t there. Gabe must still have it. Gabe must still officially hold the office, though surely that couldn’t last long.
The Compendium was open in Alexis’s hands. They met Lore’s eyes, then glanced at the blood on the front of her gown, looking confused and almost guilty. Their hands moved like they might shut the holy book, might refuse.
But Lore gave them a sharp shake of her head. She couldn’t have anyone falling on a sword for her, not now.
A shaky sigh, then Alexis began, reading from the Book of Mortal Law. “And should any two people wish to be joined in the sight of Apollius, they should seek to cleave together like the night and the day…”
Lore didn’t really listen. Lore stared at the solarium window above the throne as she was wed to the Sainted King in irons and a bloody dress, stared at the sun shining down on them, too hot and too bright. When she became the Queen of Auverraine, she didn’t even hear the applause.
When Apollius kissed her, she just closed her eyes.
Apollius took her to the North Sanctuary.
Lore was still drifting in her mind, still hanging on to only the barest tether of her thoughts. It kept her from panicking, kept her distant enough to try to look at her situation objectively. She only clocked the direction they were going as a small relief, since she’d assumed Apollius would lead her to Bastian’s bedchamber, the same place she’d slept with him the night before.
No. Don’t think of that. Don’t think of him.
No courtiers followed them, no merry band of celebrants to ring in their new marriage. Her shackles had been taken off at some point, at least.
