Indeed, Prince. Your mother for Kal.
My eyes pinch closed.
I will indulge your human weakness. Just this once. Kill the Nactue leader, and I will help you free your mother.
It’s decided then. I know what I’m willing to sacrifice.
? 18 ?
Kaliope
“OPEN THE DOOR.”
Empress Iana stands outside my cell, instructing—to no surprise—her Nactue to allow her into the cell with me. She doesn’t fear any harm. Not from me. I’m still bound to protect her. Though the bond weakens more every hour the more solidified my resolve becomes, I could never hurt her. Or betray her. That’s of my own accord, though. Nothing to do with the bond.
I’m not like them.
She pushes the sleeves of her white robe past her forearms as she enters. Then she takes a seat on the cot. Strange, that an empress would seat herself below anyone. On a foul piece of furniture. It says a lot about her.
I lean against the bars opposite her. My gaze flicks between her and the Nactue—Whip and Kai. The others, I assume, are making preparations for the Otherworlders’ return. Whatever plan has been put into effect to lure Caben.
Although that shouldn’t prove too difficult. Bale wants the goddess relic
. I wonder if Empress Iana trusts this strategy so implicitly that she’d put it within Bale’s reach just to bring Caben to me.
“I didn’t want you here,” the empress says, motioning to the holding room. “I wanted you to know that this is not to punish you. I’d never treat one of my most regarded Nactue, one of my sisters, in this manner.” She sighs. “But placing you in anything less structured… Well. A room simply cannot hold you. No number of guards can contain you.”
I smile. It feels flat on my face. But she returns the gesture with a full smile of her own. “Yes, because holding me against my will in beautiful accommodations would have made all the difference.”
Her smile falls. “Touché. But I fear you’ve been misled, my Nactue. You’ve fallen far from the path that was chosen for you. And Prince Caben, I believe, is the reason for this. Your feelings for the prince are clouding your judgment.”
To think, I once trusted this woman absolutely. Dreamed of the day when I could sacrifice everything just to protect her. To be near her. It wasn’t that long ago, mere months, that I’d have given my own life for her. That I nearly did.
I decide to reason with her logically. What’s been done to me can’t be legal. “On what grounds am I being held?”
Her gaze locks with mine. “Heresy.”
My stomach bottoms out, and I’m shocked that she didn’t even flinch while delivering this absurd accusation. I shake my head slowly. “That’s an utter falsification. Who made this inane allegation?”
With a steadying breath, she says, “Councilor Herna filed a statement, swearing her word as witness to your deviation into the worship of Bale.” Somehow, I shouldn’t be surprised. Herna never did earn back my full trust. “Others fear you’re one of Councilor Teagan’s conspirators.”
I glance at Teagan in the cell across from me. She’s wearing a wide, disturbing smile, like she’s thoroughly enjoying herself. She is completely mad.
“We’ve resurrected archaic laws to rule the people now, have we?” I say. Just months ago, I’d have been forcefully removed from my station with a mark against my reputation, like the way Carina was dealt with. Now, I could be sentenced to death. Bale is no longer a legend, her religion frowned upon. She’s a real, fear-inducing threat. Not only for the sheer danger she may destroy us, but our customs.
Scrubbing both hands down my face, I pause over my cheeks, releasing a clipped laugh. Lowering my hands to my side, I say, “This will never stand.” And it won’t. Not when it’s taken to Court, and my mother appeals, and so do my friends…if they choose to stand by me.
“Probably,” she replies simply. “But this matter will never be heard by the Court.”
She’s right. I won’t live long enough for that. The least she could do is have the courage to voice as much.
“And I’m sorry, Kaliope,” she continues. “I had hoped you would have accepted your cause back when we first spoke in the palace chapel. I truly believed you would. I told you then how I wished you would embrace your gift, remember?” She stands and steps forward, as if she’s going to reach out for me, but stops just inches shy. “But now is your chance to do just that. Can you not see this?”
I remember our conversation well. It’s one that shapes people. The empress I adored embraced me instead of rejecting me. I felt special then, and I’ve since relied on that acceptance, depended on her belief in me to further my own approval of myself. But just like so many other changes in my life, whether from my eyes being opened, experience gained, or the fact that I’m not done being molded into the woman I’m to be just yet—I am no longer that ashamed girl seeking approval.
“Empress, I have taken vows. Have sworn my very life to my true cause. However”—I uncross my arms to stand before her—“those promises were not made to the goddesses. I swore my life to you, and only on a slightly lesser scale, my family and friends. And that includes Prince Caben. I refuse to take any action in this war where my oath to protect those I love is broken. I will fight whoever attempts to end Caben’s life.” I take in a quick breath, feel the mercury rising. “I am a person, who breathes and feels…I may have been designed by the goddesses, but I am first me. I’m not a weapon forged for their glory. Damn the goddesses and their petty wars.”
The shock on her face happens subtly. Her widening amethyst eyes. The parting of her pink lips. I’ve seen the empress at her worst—near death—and yet she never lost her composure. It fills me with remorse that I’m the reason she falters now.